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“You could be. Are you here to murder me, Enzo? Is it because I don’t return your affections?”
“Baby, if anyone were to become obsessed with you, it would only be for what’s between your thighs, not because you have anything else to offer.”
She doesn’t respond.
She always has something to say until she’s faced with the truth of her character and actions.
“Why are you here, Enzo? This is my safe space, and you’re… making it unsafe.”
Instead of answering, I finally take in hersafe space. It would be pitch black in here if it weren’t for the luminous ceiling and glowing pool in the middle.
È davvero bellissima. I can appreciate anything that is not of the human or man-made variety.
Tourists pay hundreds of dollars to visit caves like this. The chances of having one on this tiny, abandoned island are incredible.
“Do you know what’s hanging above your head?” I ask.
She turns her head, giving me her side profile. It's enough to tell me she’s interested, and still, I’m not sure why the fuck I’m here, either.
“Glowworms.”
Her mouth drops a moment before her gaze shoots up, head now tilted back as she stares at the deceitful little creatures.
I expected her to squeal, be grossed out, but Sawyer always does the opposite of what I expect. Without looking away, she stands as if trying to get closer to them.
“Might want to close that before one drops in.”
Her mouth snaps shut, the click of her teeth audible from several feet away.
“Why do they glow like that?” she asks with wonder.
“It’s a secretion to attract prey.”
She gasps, and I continue, “These caves are in New Zealand, too. They’re actually silk strings that come from egg larvae. They regurgitate mucus onto them and turn them into strings of watery, reflective droplets. Then, they light them up with their tails and attract mayflies. Thinner than a strand of hair, and they can break, so watch your mouth.”
Once more, it closes. I don’t think she even realized her mouth had fallen open again. Can’t help but admit that seeing one land in the cavernous space that produces all her lies would feel like a form of justice.
On cue, her lips slowly begin to part again.
Casting a glance in my direction, she asks, “How do you know all of this? Are you a walking encyclopedia?”
I shrug. “I studied a lot of things when I was getting my degree.”
She hums distractedly. “Who knew worm secretion could be so pretty?”
I approach her, enjoying the way her body senses mine. The cords of muscle swelling with tension along her dainty shoulders and the way her bones seem to stiffen.
I like that she feels me. Fears me.
Stealing from me is the worst she’ll ever do to me, but I will do so much worse to her.
She backs away from the pool as I near, dropping her head to watch me.
I like that, too. Making her so nervous, that she can’t take her eyes off me whenever I come close to her.
Only makes me want to get closer so I can hear her breath quicken and see those baby blues darken.
I’ll admit—I was wrong earlier. Her sweet pussy isn’t the only thing that is addicting. Not when her fear is just as appetizing.
