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Most people in my small town of Hallow Grove, Iowa, are superstitious and fearful of the devil, but after reading one too many dark romance novels, I’m reasonably certain he’d fuck like a god.
I never want her to smile at anyone else like that again, unless it’s me.
To some, she may be the girl of their dreams, the perfect girl next door, but to me, she is the monster under my bed, the thing that keeps me up at night. My little nightmare.
His voice comes smooth and firm, perhaps even sexy in the most wrong of ways. “Run, little nightmare.”
I tuck the cob of freshly creamed corn into my pocket and head out after her.
I’m terrified of the man hovering over me, but I’m not afraid for my life.
With each thrust, her walls break; one by one they’re crumbling, and by the time we’re done, the only thing left standing among the ruins of her mind will be me.
