He still sat back on the couch, relaxing, but his eyes were trained on my body, and I could only imagine what he was thinking.
And then, as if realizing I’d just spoken, he finally raised his eyes, meeting mine, and then shot his gaze back to the screen, ignoring me.
I slowly turned back, too, and even though I wondered if he was still looking at me, I made no move to sit up or grab a blanket.
Over the next hour I continued to hug my pillow as the Predators hunted the Aliens and slowly all of the archeologists became collateral damage. I felt Michael’s eyes on me from time to time, but I didn’t know if it was real or just my imagination.
But every time a Predator lurked in the dark or an alien crept out of a corner I could feel the heat of his stare, and I gripped the pillow tighter and tighter until, by the end of the movie, my fingers ached.
“You like to be scared, don’t you?” I heard his voice behind me. “That’s your kink.”
I twisted my head to the side, narrowing my eyes as the credits started to roll.
Like to be scared? I enjoyed scary movies, but it wasn’t kink.
He placed his palms on his thighs, leaning his head back an
d watching me. “Your toes curled every time the Aliens and Predators came on the screen.”
I dropped my eyes, lowering my legs and slowly sitting up.
All the movies that I enjoyed the most came to mind—the slasher flicks, like Halloween and Friday the 13th—and I noticed how tight my stomach muscles were. I took a deep breath, forcing them to relax.
Yeah, okay. I liked the way my heart pounded harder, and I loved the way my senses were sharper when I was scared. The way every simple tick-tock in the house became mysterious footsteps, or the way I was hyper-aware of empty space behind me as I sat on the couch, feeling like someone was lurking back there.
I enjoyed the fright of not knowing what was coming and from where.
“When we used to wear the masks,” Michael said, dropping his voice to a near whisper, “you liked it, didn’t you? It scared you, but it turned you on.”
I raised my hesitant eyes and tried not to let out a laugh. What was I supposed to say? That the fact that they’d looked like monsters got me hot?
I shook my head clear and stood up, saying in a quiet voice. “I’m going to bed.”
I grabbed my phone and took a step, but Michael’s voice stopped me.
“Come here,” he said softly.
I turned my head, narrowing my eyes. Come here?
He sat up, resting his forearms on his knees and waiting, while I shifted on my feet.
He was always playing games. I didn’t trust him.
But the temptation to engage was too great. He was right. I was getting good at it, and I kind of liked it, too.
I took slow steps, holding up my chin to steel myself.
When I reached him, he placed a hand on my hip and pulled me in between his legs. I gasped as he fell back against the sofa again, pulling me in with him. I shot my hands out, planting them on both sides of his head on the back of the couch, keeping myself upright as I leaned into him.
“Say it,” he breathed out, holding my hips with both hands now. “It turned you on.”
I closed my mouth and shook my head, looking down at him with a challenge.
“I know it did,” he maintained, a fire in his eyes. “Did you think I couldn’t see how tense your body would get or how your nipples got hard through your shirt when you saw me wearing it? You’re a little twisted. Admit it.”
I folded my lips between my teeth, turning my head away.
But then he tipped his chin up and caught my nipple between his teeth through my tank top, and I closed my eyes, letting out a small cry.