Scary in Love

by Holly June Smith

A carpeted staircase winds around one wall to the upper levels, and I crane my neck to see where it leads. At the top, a man in a shirt and waistcoat paces back and forth, whistling to himself as he swings an axe up onto his shoulder. When our gazes snag, he does a double-take, and his axe falls to his side.

Yet, when he tilts his head and casts his eyes down my body, I feel like I’m blushing all over.

and he’s still staring. I give him a demure little wave, and he laughs to himself, pressing his tongue into the side of his cheek. Then he lifts one hand, points straight down at me, and draws slow circles with his finger.

And her gorgeous thighs. I want to spread them apart, tear those fishnets wide open, and sink my teeth into her skin. Thought about that more than is healthy, to be honest.

“That’s not a question.” “I guess I’m asking, are you a nice guy or a sick fuck?” He traces his finger down the column of my throat. “Heaven forbid a man wants to be both.”

“I want to scare the fuck out of you, Jenna. And then I want to fuck the scared out of you.”