Page 31 of Haunt the Mall
“I like to think so,” he purred.
I laughed and shook my head. Was he being cheeky? Either way, it worked for me. I grabbed the rail and propelled myself up the stairs. Hopefully, he enjoyed the view from behind. “Don’t touch the backs of my legs again,” I warned, in reference to the first time we’d met.
He smirked and climbed after me. “Are you ticklish?”
“No.” I twisted around to guard myself. Bad idea to call attention to it. “But there are better places to touch that won’t get you kicked in the face.”
“Thank you for telling me.” He eyed my legs like he wanted to break every fishnet down the center of my tights with his teeth.
Rubbing my thighs together, I considered foregoing the film to fuck him in a supply closet or something. But then we’d miss the surprise. One he made just for me.
He braced himself on the railings and rocked between two steps. Flexing his forearms, he assessed me, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.
Part of me wanted to push him with my foot, dare him to hike my leg around his shoulder—or hip. But a stronger part wanted to crawl into the rafters with him, past the widow’s domain, to the puzzle pieces of his identity. Who was Victor Sterling? And what movie had he picked out for me?
If he went to all the trouble of setting up a mystery, I had to see it through. I flashed him a smile, then dutifully marched to the upper level.
The title card for theater thirteen was blank.
“Taking this mystery thing to the next level, huh?” I asked.
He held open the door and wagged his brows. “Enter at your own risk.”
More ominous charm.
“I can handle it. Plus, my sister knows where I am—and who I’m with, so should anything happen to me…” I walked backwards and wiggled my finger at him. Shadows enveloped us as the door creaked shut behind him.
A dim glow lingered in his eyes. “I have a feeling you’d haunt me.”
Something about the resigned, quiet admiration in his voice indicated I already had. I was an emotional imprint, lingering around him. Did he dream of me? Or did my style emanate some kind of nightmare ex-lover territory?
My heart pounded.
What if he had dreams like I’d had of him…dining in on me?
“We have our choice of seats,” he said, dragging his fingers along the divider.
Besides us, the theater was empty. I smiled in bewilderment and he bit down on his smirk. Maybe we had a chance of turning one fantasy into a reality.
16
Appetizer
I chose seats in the first raised row, only a few steps up.
“Front and center. Very respectable,” Victor said.
“I like to think so.” I crossed my leg towards him, inviting him to admire my freshly exposed thighs. “Do you have a preference?”
His lip twitched as he dragged his gaze from my legs. “That depends if I plan on watching the movie.”
“Oh.” I played with the stitched edge of the armrest between us. Was it presumptuous to lift it? “Does this go up?”
“Uh, yes. Allow me, Miss Silver.” He leaned closer.
The smell of alpine sage washed over me, just the faintest hint of popcorn sneaking in underneath. My eyes fluttered closed as he lifted the barrier between us. I was back in that sexy camping movie, the one where the lovers did anything for each other. Savage, passionate, and…
“Comfortable?” Victor settled in beside me on the red leather seat. He sat with an easy lightness like he wouldn’t even leave an ass-print. He was regal. Vampiric, almost. A singular slanted finger rested under his chin as he studied me through slit eyes.