Chapter 12 #2
Eyes still down, Holly pulls the long part of the thread, creating an overhand knot, then moves on to the next step.
The entire time I keep looking at her face, trying to count her freckles in an attempt to distract myself.
There are seven sprawled across her nose and cheeks.
They’re hardly visible from a distance, but up close they look like a constellation yet to be discovered.
She drops her head and starts inspecting my ribs, tracing each one with her gloved fingers, her breathing warming my skin as she does.
A tingle gathers at the base of my spine, radiating outward until it blankets every inch of my skin.
I tilt my head as I watch her, smiling softly at the delightful impossibility of such perfection existing at the same time as me.
The ends of her hair brush past my torso and a current fires through my trembling flesh.
I’ve turned into a mad man desperate for her touch. Jesus, fuck. This girl.
Five overhand knots later, she’s finally done fixing me up.
I try to sit up. The pain is still there, but it’s more of a throbbing ache now.
Bearable. Numb. Without looking up, Holly cuts the extra thread with her teeth.
It’s embarrassing how much the sight turns me on.
I want her to do it again. I want to slowly run my fingers through her hair and watch her do it again.
She tears the bottom half of the white shirt and uses it as a bandage, wrapping it around my torso to hold the stitches in place.
“Well, I can’t wait to…return that favour…”
Her fingers graze past my waist, her touch like a hot brand on my skin.
She tightens the makeshift bandage and leans back up, not a shroud of amusement on her face. “Enough with the fucking games, Theo,” she snarls and grabs her scalpel from the dashboard, pointing its blood-stained tip at my face. “Why were you following me?”
This time I don’t dare offer another sarcastic quip. Holly has clearly reached her limit for tonight and I’m not keen on getting stabbed a second time. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Her face scrunches. “What do you mean?”
A soft buzzing sound interrupts our precious moment.
Holly’s suspicious glare pins me to my seat, and she deliberates for a long moment before pulling out her phone from her pocket.
Her face softens as she types out a reply to the message on her screen, but then two seconds later I feel my own phone vibrate in the back pocket of my trousers, and I know it’s all about to go to shit.
She gets another message. Another buzz.
Another message. Another buzz.
Another message. Another buzz.
The process repeats itself for about four seconds before Holly’s eyes flick toward me. Skeptical and narrowed. “What is that?” she demands.
I play it cool. “What is what?”
“That sound.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.”
A crease deepens between her brows. “Where’s your phone?”
“At home,” I say flatly and way too fast. Fuck.
She peels off one nitrile glove and sticks her palm out. “Give it to me.”
“Why?...I mean, I-I don’t have it —”
“I won’t ask again,” she says. The longer she stares at me, the more my resolve crumbles.
I sigh. “Back pocket. Try not to cop a feel in the process.”
Holly’s responding smile is downright feral — one that significantly lessens my chances of not getting stabbed again.
My pulse pounds. My gaze rests on her throat, tracing a line to the center of her body.
She bends over on all fours and grabs my shoulder, urging me to lift my ass, giving her access to my pocket.
She shifts forward, practically shoving her tits in my face, and my jaw clenches.
“Jesus…” I whisper.
“Stop fidgeting.” She reaches into my pocket and grabs my phone. A sleek black iPhone, a full three models newer than hers. Not that it matters.
“What’s the passcode?” she demands.
There’s a beat of silence before I respond. “1-1-1-5-9-3.”
Her eyes meet mine, refusing to let go. “That’s my birthday.”
I try to smile. “Happy almost birthday.”
Her lips press together in a white slash as she types in the digits, unlocking my phone. “Fucking weirdo,” she mutters mostly to herself but it’s so quiet inside my car that I hear it anyway.
She starts rummaging through my texts, a shadow falling over her face as she does. “What…what is all this?”
“I know, I have a selfie problem.”
“Why the fuck do you have all my texts on your phone?”
Silence.
Eyes still glued to my phone screen, she asks, “How…how long has this been going on for?”
There’s no denying it now. “Two and a half years.”
At first there is nothing. She is blank. She seems calm, even though I know she isn’t. Grip tightening around my phone, her gaze lifts, lingering on my chin, then my chest, and finally my wrists, probably looking for a sweet spot to drive her scalpel in.
“Asphyxiation or blunt-force trauma?” she says.
“I beg your pardon?”
She leans forward to scruff my hair like I’m a well-trained dog.
My heart races but the rest of my body freezes.
“How would you like to die, Carter?” With her other hand she brings forth her scalpel and presses it against my chin.
“I could cut out your tongue and watch you choke on your own blood. Asphyxiation. Or I could bash your skull against the steering wheel over and over again till it fucking cracks and then burn this sad excuse of a car. Blunt-force trauma. Your pick.”
Her warm breath falls against my cheek, and I swallow. “You want to kill me?”
Holly stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
I can’t bear to look away. “I just…I don’t think we need to take such extreme measures yet.”
“You just admitted to stalking me for the past three fucking years —”
“Two and a half,” I correct.
“— what else do you expect me to do exactly? Bake you cookies?”
“Well, for starters, I’d like you to untie me and massage my wrists because, in case you haven’t noticed, love, I’m a surgeon too. These hands are my livelihood.”
Holly scoffs.
“And then once you’re done, I’d like you to bend over the hood of my car so that I can spank you raw for stabbing me in the stomach.”
Holly’s eyes widen and my cock begs for relief as I take in her blood-smeared pink cheeks.
Flustered Holly is by far my favourite. Flustered Holly makes me so fucking hard.
Flustered Holly makes me want to spend all my free time provoking a reaction out of her just to see her cheeks burn and then bottle up that colour and paint it across my walls.
There’s a long pause.
Holly leans forward to untie my wrists, her crystalline touch lighting up each nerve ending like ecstasy.
“Don’t get too excited,” she warns. “I’m stronger than you —”
“Don’t bait me to pin you down.”
“I’m also faster than you,” she goes on. “If you run, I will chase you. If you try anything else, I will hurt you.” Her eyes flick to mine. “And this time I won’t stitch you up.”
Heat simmers in my gut. I look down at my free hands and the red welts around my skin. “Are you going to grant me my second wish too?”
“No.”
“What if I get on my knees and beg?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad.” Gently, I take her hair in one hand and sweep it to the side. “Because you should know…” I place my chin on her shoulder, my mouth descending on a spot near her collarbone. “I am very, very good at begging.” I lightly kiss the side of Holly’s neck, then bite it.
My insolence is immediately met with a tight slap across my face. Not very hard, but hard enough for the smack to echo through the tiny space.
“Did you just fucking bite me?!” She touches the nape of her neck.
My cheek burns with the sting of her palm.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” she shouts. “I stab you and try to bite me?”
“Would you rather I stabbed you back?”
“You are insane!”
I shrug. “Possibly.”
Her eyes grow lethal and dark. Livid. “Stop. Testing. My. Patience.”
“Will you punish me if I don’t?”
“Theo, I’m trying very hard not to give in to my urges right now.”
My grin quickly takes on a wicked edge. “Carnal?”
Holly crosses her arms across her chest and pins me with a death glare, and the answer is crystal clear: Murderous.
My smile disappears.
“Take out your car keys,” she orders.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to eat them. Why do you think? I need you to drive us somewhere.”
My heart hammers in my chest. My blood heats.
I need you.
I. Need. You.
She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then glances at me. “The fuck are you staring at? Take out your keys! It’s getting late and I have an early shift tomorrow!”
“I just got stabbed, Holly. I can’t drive.”
“Well, neither can I. So unless you want to add ‘died in a fiery car crash’ to the list of things you’ve experienced tonight, I suggest you suck it up and do as I tell you to.”
I frown. “You don’t know how to drive?” I didn’t know that.
“No.” Her voice comes out a small squeak. It’s almost as if she’s embarrassed. It’s so adorable. She’s adorable.
“What kind of a murderer doesn’t know how to drive?”
She glares at me. “The same kind that’s about to stab you again if you don’t stop yapping. Now drive.”
The stale air inside the car presses against my skin like a moist towel. I start the ignition and place my clammy palms over the steering wheel. “All right, love. Where are we going?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Love?” I ask and she nods. I grin. “Why? Does it irritate you?”
“Yes,” she grumbles.
“Then not likely.”
“Just start the fucking car and take the first exit on the freeway,” she says, sounding quite vexed indeed.
“I’ll give you directions on the way.” She pulls out a half-eaten chocolate protein bar from her pocket and bites into it.
Several crumbs of chocolate and granola stick to her lower lip, a few falling onto the seat.
I wince. “Can you not do that, please?”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “Why? Does it irritate you?” She tilts her head to a side and juts out her lower lip in a pout, and even though I know it’s all fake, I’m a fucking goner. A fucking goner.
“Yes, Holly. It irritates me. I have a no-eating rule in my car…What? Wh-why are you…what’s wrong?”
She’s laughing — and god, I’ve never made Holly laugh before.
At least not in a way that was genuine. An actual, real, breath of a laugh.
One that lights up her face and crinkles the corners of her eyes.
I could get off to the sound of her laugh alone.
It’s so pure and angelic. It sets something loose in my chest. Something warm and fluttery.
Tingly. I want to make her laugh again. And again.
And again. For the rest of my life if I’m allowed.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, without looking at me. I really wish she would. I want to capture the nuances of her expression and study them, right down to every microscopic detail. “I just didn’t know you were such a clean freak.”
“So what if I am? Why is that funny?”
She uses the back of her hand to clean her mouth, wiping the crumbs onto the sleeve of my bloody shirt. “Because if you have a problem with me eating a protein bar in your car, then you’re definitely not going to like what’s stashed inside the trunk.”