Page 188 of Trick or Stalk

Fear isn't the only thing I feel. Not even close.

And he knows it.

I see it in the way his body changes. The slight shift closer. The tension rolling through him.

His hand slowly settles on my waist, giving me every opportunity to stop him.

I don't.

Instead, my fingers curl against the side of his mask.

His other hand finds the window seat beside my hip, caging me in.

His masked face lowers toward mine.

My heart nearly stops.

Is he going to kiss me?

How the hell would that even work?

More importantly, why am I not stopping him?

The realization hits me so hard my stomach drops.

I want him to.

Oh my God.

I want my stalker to kiss me.

His face stops inches from mine.

I can feel his breath escaping beneath the mask.

My lips part.

His thumb presses lightly into my waist.

Then he steps away.

Cold air rushes into the space between us.

I blink.

What?

He takes another step backward.

My body immediately protests.

And apparently my mouth has severed all communication with my brain.

“That's it?”

He freezes.

Oh. Fuck.