His

“And I’ll have nobody but you to thank for it.”

 

 

The elevator jerked to a halt at the second floor and the doors opened. The man standing in front of the elevator doors took a step forward. He was dressed in a crisp white button down shirt and black pants, with dark brown hair and a sharp jawline that hinted at a five o’clock shadow without admitting of stubble.

 

When he looked up at me, his eyes were like the ocean before a storm. Gray-green slate, calm and confident. I dropped my eyes and saw that the top button of his shirt was opened, his smooth chest peeking out from the fabric. He looked like a model from the cover of the romance novel Jules had just tossed onto the book cart.

 

He looked like someone who could tie me up, hold me down, fuck me hard and crazy. I blew a low breath through my teeth.

 

“Welp, this is my stop,” Jules said, hopping out of the elevator before I could think about anything other than those eyes. “See you on the third floor!”

 

Wait. Oh, shit. No, I couldn’t!

 

I tried to push the cart out but Jules shoved it back at me. A half dozen books spilled out of the bottom shelf.

 

“One more floor, Kat!” Jules said, her voice forced and bright. As the man turned and stood next to me, Jules coughed in his direction, her eyes wide as saucers. My mouth dropped open. No. I couldn’t. I couldn’t. Oh god, I couldn’t.

 

Jules raised her fist as the doors closed.

 

Oh god, I had to.

 

 

 

Gav

 

The days before a kill are delicious. I savor them. Every minute I spend tracking and following gets me more and more aroused. More hungry.

 

The thing I crave is a thrill I can only get from another’s death. The look on their face when they realize I’m about to end their life. Like a shot of heroin straight to the heart. Not that I do drugs, mind you. I used to, but you grow bored with drugs after a while.

 

And I’ve never grown bored of killing.

 

The shadow drives me out to look for prey, but that’s not the real reason I was there. I don’t just kill because I need to. I kill because I want to.

 

I’d prepared almost everything this time for my spring kill. I’d cleaned out the kitchen, gotten everything set up. I had to pick up some new batteries for my alarm system, but that could wait until tomorrow. I still had another week before the man would return to this same library.

 

I stepped into the elevator and picked up the books the library worker had dropped, setting them back on the cart for her. There was something in the way she looked at me that gave me pause. Did she recognize me? Had she seen me following the steps of the man I was about to kill?

 

I glanced again out of the corner of my eyes. She was staring at me like she knew I was a killer. Fear beaded on her forehead. I turned to her, and she swallowed.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said politely, consciously relaxing my jaw. “Do I know you?”

 

“I’m sorry,” she replied. “I...I have to do this.”

 

 

 

Kat

 

I threw myself forward, my eyes closed. God will forgive me, I thought, but Jules never will if I don’t kiss this guy.

 

The man didn’t even flinch as I pressed my lips to his. I smelled the subtle touch of his aftershave on his cheeks, and his skin was soft against mine. I expected him to shove me away, to yell at me, to get me fired—oh, Lord, I hadn’t even thought about that!

 

I expected, that is, just about any reaction other than the one that actually occurred.

 

He kissed me back.

 

As soon as I felt my lips touch his, a spark flashed through my nerves, drawing me close to him. One of his hands gripped my wrist and the other gripped my waist. He wasn’t pushing me away, he was simply holding me as though there was nothing strange at all about a girl throwing herself into his arms. His lips pressed back on mine, seizing me, and dizziness seized me, making the walls of the elevator spin as he kissed harder, harder, sucking the breath out of me.

 

Yes, I’ve kissed guys before. No, I’m not a virgin. I’ve dated around, and even had a couple of one-night stands. This, though—this was different. There was a ferocity in his kiss that swept me up completely, a brutal hunger that spoke of a desire no other man had ever revealed. Maybe no other man had ever felt it. Whatever it was, it shocked my entire body so much that I couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but keep kissing him back.

 

This was what I wanted – the way he held me so completely in control. The way he pushed harder against me, brutally. In that instant, I imagined him taking me wholly, violently, making all of my dark fantasies come true...