Kill Switch (Devil's Night, #3)

by Penelope Douglas

His hand was a bit bigger than mine, and his fingers were long and sculpted but so chilled. So cold. He took both of my hands and led me to him. To his face. “What do you see?” he asked, placing my hands on him and releasing me. My fingers splayed across both sides of his face, and I stood still for a moment, afraid to move my fingers, because he would feel how much I was shaking. Every inch of my skin that touched his buzzed underneath the surface, and I almost pulled away because it tickled so bad. “You’re tall,” I said, clearing my throat. “When you’re standing, I mean. Aren’t you?” I remembered the feel of his body pressed into mine last time, and even sitting now, the top of his head reached just above my breasts. Moving my hands over his face, I took in the smooth skin, gently brushing his forehead, temples, cheekbones and brow with my fingertips. “Young,” I continued, painting a picture in my head. “Oval face but a hard jaw. Sharp nose.” I lightly pinched where the bone met the cartilage, smoothing my fingers down the length. “How did you break it?” It was just a faint curve the naked eye probably wouldn’t catch, but I could feel how it bent just slightly in that centimeter. “I fell,” he answered. I cocked my head, reading between the lines. I’d gotten pretty good at figuring out what people didn’t say. “Yeah, my mom falls a lot, too,” I told him. He was clearly punched and didn’t want to elaborate. Which meant he was either still pissed about it or…embarrassed and ...