3. Casper #3
I cut her off, the image from a few minutes ago appearing in my mind, clouding my thoughts. We’re addressing that before anything else, or I won’t be able to think straight. “Who was the guy?”
“Bryce?” She scoffs. “He’s covering the rest of my shift for me so I can run an errand. If you’re always watching, then shouldn’t you already know that, Mr. Know-It-All?”
I have a feeling we will always go tit for tat. I love it.
“What errand? You could’ve asked, left a note, and I’d have had it taken care of,” I protest, annoyed that she didn’t try to reach out before. “You didn’t need to ask Bryce for help.”
A sharpness finds her tone. “Oh, when I need something, should I just whisper wherever I’m at and you’ll appear?
Like a magical genie? Is that it? Because I doubt that.
” A twinge of anger hits her voice, and I know it’s not caused by me, but I’m giving her an outlet for it.
And I’d do it all day. “I’ve gone this long by myself.
I don’t need you to do anything for me.”
“Mona.” I exhale her name like a whip. “I’m well aware of your crippling independence. But you have me now. Which means you name it and I’ll handle it. Now, tell me what you need.”
She opens and closes her mouth a thousand times while she fights her own defiance before finally giving in. I know it took her more strength than she’ll ever admit to open up and not snap at me. “I found a jumping spider in my room, and she’s starving. So, I need to get some mealworms for her.”
“I’m on it,” I butt in before she even finishes the last word. “Don’t worry about it. Everything will be here within an hour or so. Next.”
“I …” Her words fall by the wayside, and her body stiffens. “Are you bluffing?”
I grin, knowing that slowly, I’ll earn her real trust and her real affection.
Right now, she likes the things I do for her, and that’s enough.
But by the time we’re done, she’s going to like me for me, the stability and comfort I give her, and love that she doesn’t have to earn or plead for.
It’s unconditional and true. The least she deserves.
“I don’t bluff when it comes to you, Mona. But I might beg.”
“Hmm. What are you begging for?” She pushes me further, leaning into our little banter.
“For you to walk into the house, go up to the third floor and into your room. Don’t turn on the lights.” I pause as a shudder runs down my spine at the possibility of her saying yes. “And wait for me.”
“Like a pet? Just ordering me around?” Stepping toward the house, she bites down on her bottom lip. “And if I say no?”
“Then nothing happens,” I assure her. “Your boundaries.”
“A respectful creep.” She mulls the words over.
“I’ll be respectful … until you beg me not to be,” I add, my voice almost quivering with anticipation. “But only then.”
Her head nods ever so slightly, that big smile still on her beautiful face. “And if I want that? For you to follow me to my room. To touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me. Enact all of your dirtiest desires and keep me. Then what?”
“Then I’ll tattoo your name on my fucking chest and keep you forever,” I growl, blood pooling to my core.
“Hmm,” she hums sweetly, but the look on her face is anything but. “And what if I want to make you wait? Edge you out until you can’t take it anymore?” She pauses.
I’m suddenly incredibly thankful for the wall keeping me upright.
“Until you’re so hard that the mere thought of me parting my legs and letting you in makes you come in your pants?”
Jesus Christ.
My cock throbs at her words, and I’m starting to think that the hypothetical isn’t too far off. “Then I think I might propose to you.”
This earns me a cackle as she spins around, still surveying the crowd. “All right then. I might have to make you wait.”
A beat passes as I rerun her words in my mind, wondering if I heard her correctly.
“You’re crazy enough to stalk me. And I’m crazy enough to like it.”
“Sounds like we’re soulmates.” I wet my bottom lip. “Now go to your room and relax. Everything you need will be here soon. Until then, I want Bryce’s greedy eyes off of your body.”
She glances to her left, where Bryce is at the face-painting booth, his gaze glued on her. Her movement shifted her enough that I’m out of her direct view.
With a little chuckle, as if I’m joking in any sense, she asks, “A bit possessive, huh?”
My foot breaches the light, and I step out of the shadows.
“You’ll see. You’re mine, Mona, and I don’t fucking share.”
I end the call and tuck the phone into my pants before strolling across the yard, back to Bates and Kol, who might as well have a bucket of popcorn in their hands.
“That looked like it went well?” Kol asks, a brightness in his light blue, almost-gray eyes.
Throwing my leg over the bench of the picnic table, I can’t contain my smile as I dig my phone back out of my pants. “Better than well. Time to move to stage two, boys.”
Bates humors me. “And what’s stage two?”
Unlocking my phone, I wink at him. “Thanks for asking, Finny.” A dramatic, theatrical voice overtakes me as I announce, “Stage two: I’m going to fire that twit named Bryce from my haunted house. Break my mask back out. And meet my girl for real this time, without a hundred feet between us.”