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She's innocent.
So fucking different than me. I've been living in the darkness for as long as I can fucking remember. But not her, not Monroe. She's a creature that thrives in the light.
I told myself before I got here that I'd lose interest in her. But the opposite is happening now. I'm becoming more and more intrigued by Monroe, and it fucking pisses me off. I bury my nails into the skin of my palm, gritting my teeth. I don't have time for this shit.
And there's something else. Something that's calling me forward, telling me to leave my car and break into her shabby apartment. I want to watch her. I want to examine her.
Monroe is like a kill. I prepare for that the same way. By studying my victim's habits. Except I have no intention of hurting Monroe. Not unless she fucking begs for it.
Even though I know it's a bad idea, I get out of my car. I can't stay the fuck away. Something's pulling me to her, like an invisible string drawing me closer, nearer.
I take the stairs leading down to the basement entrance. There's still a light on inside even though there hasn't been any movement in a while. I grin at the thought. Seems like sugar's afraid of the dark because she leaves a light on at nighttime. Poor naïve little girl. If only she knew real monsters don't need the darkness to ruin her life...
I watch the window to make sure there's no movement, no sound. Once I'm sure she's asleep, I try the front door.
Locked.
But it's not as if that's going to keep me out.
Examining the small entrance, I take notice of a few empty flowerpots. It takes me less than a minute to find the spare key under one of them, and my lips press together into a painful line. Monroe doesn't know the first thing about taking care of herself, and it pisses me the fuck off.
Unlocking the front door, I place the key back where I found it and enter her apartment.
It's small. She's done her best to make the place look better, but there are things even Monroe can't fix, no matter how determined she is. Why the fuck does she live in this cramped and dingy place? Why the fuck doesn't she rent a nicer apartment?
Determined to get to the bottom of this, I start going through her things. Her bedroom door is closed at the end of the hallway. The temptation to go in there is strong, but I'm still resisting it. I'm saving the best for last.
The rest of the tiny apartment is even worse. A shitty, small bathroom with a rusty bathtub. A larger space for a minuscule kitchen with a single barstool at the counter. There's a laptop on the counter. No couch, no TV.
I approach the bedroom door. It's closed, but when I try the handle, I find it unlocked. I'm really fucking pushing it right now. If she wakes up, I'm going to have to hurt her. Yet I can't resist. I can't walk away. I need to see her again.
My fingers wrap around the cold doorknob. I twist it. Push it open.
Her bedroom's taken up by a small bed and a dresser. Light from the streetlight illuminates the small room through the window. Monroe's lying on the bed, covered with a thin, threadbare blanket. She's wearing that oversized shirt she put on earlier and no fucking panties. I can tell because her ass is peeking out. Firm, pale globes of skin draw my gaze and make me grit my fucking teeth.
Monroe's more complicated than I first gave her credit for. This apartment speaks of a story, something she's hiding, something she's doing. And I'm going to figure out what the fuck it is.
I stand frozen to the spot as she stirs in her sleep, but she doesn't wake up. She just lies on her back, her legs spread to give me a view of her perfect, shaved little pussy.
My mouth waters just as my phone goes off.
"Fuck," I hiss, checking to make sure she's still sleeping. She doesn't move. Her eyes flutter, but her breathing remains slow. She's asleep.
I'm resisting every urge in my body to touch her. My fingers itch to push up her shirt and touch her bare skin, but I fight the instinct. Instead, I palm the bulge in my pants, rubbing my hardened cock through the fabric of my black slacks.
Her lips are slightly parted. She looks so innocent like this. Ripe for the taking. But Monroe is hiding things. I know that already, and I'm determined to uncover what it is.
The inescapable lust forces me to pull down the zipper of my pants. I massage the bulge through the silky fabric of my boxers. I want so much more.
