“Noah, we should hang up now.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

Like she hadn’t even spoken.

“Oh, God. No, I will not do that. We’re done here.” But she clutched the phone like it was keeping her alive and listened to him breathe in her ear. Jesus. Her own, private obscene phone caller. Christmas come late.

“Okay then, don’t touch yourself. Just listen.”

She clenched her jaws together, so utterly torn between what she knew she should do and what she wanted. She could feel her nails digging into her palm right through the wool blanket. When he groaned again, her heart tripped double-time and a steady pulse took up residence in the lower portions of her body. Specifically, the portions she wasn’t going to touch.

“You’re so hot and sweet and soft,” he said, his voice dropping into a gritty register that made her toes curl. “I know you might not want to hear that—the soft part—but it’s true. Every time I touch you, that’s what makes me lose control. Never had such trouble with control before you, not even when I was fifteen and me and Katie were…” His voice faded. She heard him shift again. Heard the movement of bedsprings, old and squeaky. Heard something that sounded an awful lot like a sob, rough and painful.

“Shh, Noah, it’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think so. I think I’m screwed, Erin. Think I’m losing it.”

“No. I’ve got you. I’m right here.” The same thing she’d said earlier, but he’d been way too far gone in his own head to hear it then. “Forget that stuff. Tell me more—tell me why you like to…uh…”

“Fuck you?”

She tried to say, “Yeah.” It left her mouth as a moan.

“Touch yourself first. Tell me what you’d ask me to do, if I was there right now.”

She shuddered so hard the bed shook. “Noah, I can’t. I—”

“Please. I know it’s wrong to ask, but I’m lying here and all I can do is think about you, but I can’t…I can’t…”

She couldn’t deny him. Couldn’t even lie to him—pretend she was doing what he asked and then not…do it. Mostly because she wanted to, and that was a new little kink she didn’t even know she had.

She slid her hand under the covers and then inside the ratty pair of boxers she’d worn to bed. “Yes. Okay. I’m…doing it.”

He sighed. She could practically hear him relaxing. Closed her eyes and saw him sinking into his bed. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s—I’m a little sore. From before. But it’s good.”

He cursed. Something she didn’t quite catch, muffled and terse, but it had to be profane, whatever it was. And then, “You’re incredible, Erin. I want you so much.”

She moved her fingers against her clit, swirling in circles, and listened to him breathe. “More than Suzie?”

He grunted. “Never wanted Suzie. Not like that. Only had to be near her so I could get close to—”

“Don’t.” Talk about a buzz kill.

“Now I just wanna be near you. All the time. God—wanna lock you in my room, tie you to the bed so you can’t get away from me.”

And that should’ve been way too creepy—way too psycho-stalker-with-a-collection-of-random-body-parts-in-his-basement, but instead it turned her on. Because, yeah, she knew he was on the edge of something bad. But she also knew what was inside him, in addition to all that rage and lust for revenge. Good stuff, like loyalty and tenderness and humor.