Obsession

by Harleigh Beck

“But is it so obvious I’m new?” His lips twitch, and he shrugs. “Reporters usually come prepared.” “I am prepared,” I argue.

I hated Mommy, but I still wanted her to love me. Other mommies loved their kids. So why didn’t my mommy love me?

Thats sad.

“Brown eyes, long and wavy dark hair. Early twenties. Women who resemble your mother.” “My mother,” he replies, watching me like a hawk.

“You think the women I sexually assaulted, tortured, and murdered resembled my mother?” “Do you dispute my observation?”

“Do you suggest you resemble my mother?” “You tell me, Hammond?”

“The moment I set foot in here, you shivered like a leaf in the wind. You’re barely able to hold eye contact without a blush creeping up your neck, and your thumb is bleeding where you’ve picked at the nail bed.”

Awwww he's paying attention to her

Does a man who’s committed horrific acts deserve the death penalty?”

“Who said anything about the death penalty? I was talking about the sun.” Those sinful lips slowly spread into a full smile,

“You like to outsmart.” I skate my eyes up to his. “So do you.” He’s amused by me. “Tell me more, ma’am.”

The more I read, the more obsessed I become. I can’t stop. The killings should scare me, but I’m strangely intrigued—a morbid fascination that spells trouble.

His eyes burn into me. I glance down at his white knuckles, imagining my throat clasped in that brutal death grip. “Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” My voice shakes.

“Then why are you drowning?”

Jesus this man is deep

he holds my attention never wavers. Not a single emotion flickers across his face. “Did he touch you at all?”

“Not really. He pulled my hair.” Robbie remains silent as a muscle works his jaw. Then he looks away and drags his tattooed fingers through his beard, the scratchy rasp settling between my thighs like the sparks of a dying bonfire.

gaze. “I beg to differ. You may not be aware of your actions. But you take back the power and control you lacked back then when you kill. You do the things that ten-year-old boy wished he could.”

“Do you enjoy psychoanalyzing me, Savannah?”

Thats hot

“I could ask the same of you. What have you noticed about me since we sat down?” “Are you brave enough to find out the answer, Savannah?”

I want his tattooed hands on me. I want to feel the pleasure he can bring with those calloused fingers. I even want the pain he could inflict if he let his monster out to play. I want to taste death at his fingertips.

Those sinful lips reveal a hint of a smile, but there’s nothing sweet about it. “I know a lot of things about you.”

Hes been looking into her...thats why he requested her

It’s also wrong to suck my lip between my teeth and close my eyes. But I do. The pressure on my clit feels fucking divine and, combined with the deep drawl of Robbie’s voice when he asks me if I like to psychoanalyze him, it does wicked things to my body that would cause a nun to do the sign of the cross.

“Such a dirty little girl,” he whispers, dragging the sharp blade in his hand down my chest, over the valley of my heaving tits. The knife slips beneath the torn fabric, and he slides it away from my breast, exposing my lace bra. “Dirty girls like you deserve to be punished.”

“It would be nice if a woman could trust me before I die.” My brow furrows before a disbelieving laugh slips from my lips. “Excuse me?” More laughter follows until my shoulders shake. The guard glances my way. “That was cheesy!” I tease, wiping tears from my eyes. “Maybe it’s true.” “Yeah, right.” I’m still sniggering.

My heart broke long ago. Maybe for once, I want to lose myself in a nightmare of my own making, no matter how crazy it seems.”

Savannah Campbell has been on my mind a lot lately.

The way she traps her plump bottom lip between her teeth to stop herself from smiling. When I close my eyes, I see her sitting across from me, the pulse skittering in her neck. Just the thought of her alluring scent—apples and vanilla—stirs my dick.

late. I won’t rest until I’ve sunk my teeth deep into the sensitive area where her neck meets her shoulder and stuffed her every hole full of cum. I want it dripping from her, want to swipe it up with my fingers and mark her face, spreading my semen over her kiss-swollen lips. I want her dirtied up and used, fucked to within an inch of her life.

My eyes scan the harsh lines of what is most definitely masculine handwriting. Rule number three, Savannah: Never turn your back on a killer.

“My story belongs to you, Savannah. My confession is yours and yours alone.”

Awwwww

know only he can ease throbs between my thighs—a need I won’t ever be able to satisfy, no matter how many men I fuck. None of them can hurt me like he can with those beautiful tattooed hands and sharp incisor teeth. His blue eyes alone have the power to bring me to my knees.

I realize, when he rubs his finger and thumb together, eye-fucking me like I’m his last meal. He’s not a boy like the ones I hooked up with in college. He’s not arrogant like Elliot or too big-headed like James. He’s not an opportunist like my father. No, he’s something so much better. So much more.

“You’re a clever woman, Savannah. You’ll figure it out.” “You have a lot of faith in me.” His smirk makes a reappearance. “Rule number four: Trust your gut.”

“Trust my gut? Because it has such a good track record,”

“I would have ended up as a notch on your bedpost if I trusted my instincts. Another photograph of a dead girl in the newspaper. Unless you’ve noticed, I’m not a good judge of character.”

Me too sis

My girl…

She drove here to deliver it, even though we’re not scheduled for another interview until the day after tomorrow. She was here. More importantly, she thought of me. No one has ever thought of me before. And just like that, I want to see her. I need to see her.

“So don’t close your eyes.” Her whiskey voice turns my throat dry, and I chuckle huskily. “You don’t think I’ve tried? I lie awake at night, torturing myself. So to answer your question, Savannah, I would take my time.”

“You’re curious about me.” “You like it.” “Of course I like it.” “Why?”

“I think about you, Savannah. I like that I’m not alone with my thoughts late at night.”

“You’re avoiding the question, Hammond.”

“If he had you to himself, he’d want to put his lips on you and bring you to climax with his hands.” She stops breathing. “He’d want to feel you fall apart around his dick.”

“I won’t allow that.” I tighten my grip on her hand in warning. “No one gets to touch you, Savannah. No one gets to so much as imagine you naked and needy.” “You can’t slaughter everyone who fantasizes about me.” “Watch me.”

“Let me rephrase that. Did you show such mercy?”

Tf did she do

Don’t think you’re safe because you know the person in front of you. Familiarity doesn’t equal security.

Robbie has become more generous with his smiles lately. Every time he aims one of those weapons at me, I willingly surrender to the sweet death he promises with the sparkle in his blue eyes.

“Only occasionally in the beginning, but when my dad finally left for good, I replaced that void in her life.” I feel sick. Digging my nails into my palms beneath the

“Your father was always absent, so how did he fill the void when he was never home?” His blue eyes clash with mine and hold. “He returned to the trailer to fuck, and then he was gone again. Let’s just say, he couldn’t stand being around my mom outside the bedroom.”

“I hated when my mother touched me. I felt sick to my core. But do you know what happens to a dog that’s been neglected and beaten its entire life? It still crawls back to its master, hoping and praying for acceptance. It just wants to be loved, no matter what. It just wants that one single, gentle stroke to its scruff.”

“I came to crave her calling my name at night. Because at least then, she’d hold me and praise me.”

“No matter what you have done, Robbie, you’re still a human. You grew up knowing nothing but cruelty. Of course, I cry.”