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“It doesn’t matter. What do you need? Tell me?”
I turn my head to the side, his nose brushing across my jaw. Tingles shoot up my body, making me arch into him. I feel so fucking obvious in this moment, and yet I can’t stop myself from responding.
“I need to destroy something. I need to light something on fire, need to saw something in half,” I admit, and Skylar’s grip on my neck loosens.
“Do you? Is that what you need?”
“Yes.”
He takes a step back from me and then grabs on to my hand, linking his fingers with mine. It feels so foreign and yet so familiar. I crave it, this connection to him.
Tugging me out the door and down the hallway, we move past Casey and to a back bedroom.
“Here,” he says as he pushes the door open. The door bangs against the wall, and I peer inside, seeing nothing through the darkness.
“Go on,” he says, and I move into the space, nearly tripping over something in the process.
“What the fuck?” I mutter as I kick my foot out, connecting with something hard.
“Don’t kick it or you’ll hurt yourself,” he says as he flips the light on. I blink at the sudden brightness and glance down. Near my feet, peeking out of a duffle bag are my saws.
I nearly keel over, my heart racing at what this means.
“You didn’t,” I mutter as I bend down and pull one out, cradling it to my chest like a baby.
“I did. I asked Casey to bring them.”
My eyes twitch, the burning behind them intensifying. Oh fuck. Oh fuckity fuck.
“Cut shit up in here and then come back to my room. You aren’t leaving in the middle of the night. I won’t risk you.”
I have this incredible urge to throw my arms around him and hug him, to pull his large body into mine and press kisses to his cheeks. Instead, I ask, “Are they charged?”
“Yeah.”
And then he closes the door and disappears. I’m left all alone with my saws and a room to destroy.
I turn one on, the whirling of the blade making me smile with glee.
Oh yes.
Oh fucking yes.
* * *
I stumble into his room hours later, my skin covered in sawdust, my body completely relaxed. I feel like I’ve just come out from a long massage—not that I’ve ever really enjoyed those, but I can imagine that’s what people feel like.
Euphoria.
“You done?” Skylar asks as he sits up in bed, the sheet falling down his bare abdomen. I see the way those muscles flex and become more defined as he moves. Mouthwatering, really.
I nod wordlessly and move toward him, crawling onto the bed and straddling his thighs. Without thinking twice about it, my hands slide through his hair and my lips descend onto his.
I don’t kiss. I’ve never kissed anyone before in my life, and yet I can’t stop myself this time.
He got me my fucking saws. He knows me, he fuckingcares.
“What are you doing?” he asks breathlessly, ripping his lips away from mine, his brow furrowed in confusion.
