The Serial Killers Guide to Love (Deadly Darling #1)

Chapter 12

12

Lily

Each time Sam looked at me, I had the feeling that he could see everything. That I poisoned and killed people, that I lied to my husband and stole f his money and faked my death and that I would do it again and again as often as it was necessary.

I found myself walking the house up and down and trying to analyze each sentence, each word that crossed his lips.

And fuck those were gorgeous lips. After our outing, I was more confused than ever when it came to the question if he likes me.

Maybe he is just lonely and wants a friend.

Yeah sure!

I called out as I slammed the door to the fridge, right after taking a Coca-Cola Zero out and sipping it.

How many guys actually want female friends if they aren’t gay?

Is he gay?

My mind came up with the question, but he had been married.

Well, many married men turn gay. Or have always been gay and come out later in life, but Sam doesn’t look closeted to me. How fucking presumptuous am I to imagine that if a man doesn’t act interested in me, he is gay?

He called me beautiful.

Butterflies explode in my chest as I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

Beautiful.

Mike used to make sure that I didn’t weigh one ounce over 120 pounds. He would strike me if I would gain weight or if he would catch me eating anything that I wasn’t allowed, the beating would be horrible.

He used to call me a fat cow then, when I was under 120 pounds and tell me that he is not a Savage to fuck farm animals.

And as soon as I was free, fuck I ate.

I had a time when I would binge on anything and everything, even if I didn’t like it.

In a way, as I gained weight I proclaimed my independence towards Mike, my freedom to exist to take space and to eat.

Now at almost 170 pounds, my body is curvy like a mountain road and I have my period again. The period part was the only one that I didn’t miss, but hell, one had to deal with the things life handed out to them.

Even now it was a battle between trying to eat kinda healthy and be rebellious and call out Fuck you Mike, you won’t starve me ever again.

I opened my eyes before my head cinema decided to play a best of my fucked up marriage.

I am free now.

I don’t have to be scared.

Mike is all the way in New York, thinking that I was rotting slowly underground and I can live my best life.

“Only if you would allow yourself to live.”

There it was, the same voice that nagged at me again and again.

I live in hiding.

I don’t date.

I only work, read monster porn, and try to sleep. That’s it.

Maybe I should give this dating game a chance.

The night crawled in, but I knew that there was no sleep for me to be had. I downloaded Tinder and started to write a cute profile.

“Earthy florist looking for her green thumb.”

Nooo, oh god that sounds bad and kind pervy at a second look.

“Nature woman looking for a man to share the beauty of life.”

I clicked through all the things and decided that I was looking for casual but was open for more.

This lingo was new to me.

Maybe I needed to call Anna to help me, but on the other hand I was too embarrassed and she would want to set me up with all her cousins.

Come on Lilly, you can do it.

I found a selfie of me I took in the greenhouse when the Dracula orchids bloomed and uploaded that.

Leaning my phone on the table, I did my best to take a few more shots that show my full body.

I didn’t have hope that I would have a line forming at my profile, but hey, why not.

After making sure that my profile was active, I started to peel my clothes off and walked into the shower.

Today was a long day and I had to wash Sam off my mind. He wants us to be friends and I could use a friend. My heart made a weird jump thinking about it, but it was not as if I could tie him to my bed and force him to like me.

Even though the idea of having Sam naked and erect tied to my bed filled me with all types of needs and desires and made me wetter than rain.

Fuck.

Why do I have to have a hot neighbor that is also smart and nice and considerate and funny?

Noo.

Why can’t I have an ugly, rude, fat drunk ass neighbor?

Thinking of Sam, as the water ran down my body, my fingers slipped between my legs.

What if he would have put his hand on my thigh when he drove?

What if he would have pushed his hand under my skirt? Would he have liked the feeling of my skin under his fingers? Would he have moved his hand up, to reach the apex of my thighs and slide under my panties to find me hot and needy?

“Good girl.”

I can imagine his low warm voice saying it as he strokes my clit through my panties, making the wet spot grow larger and larger with each touch.

He looks so in control.

Would he have liked me to put my hand on his hard bulging... I can’t think.

A hard orgasm hits me and takes my breath away.

The water rains down on me, but my body is hungry.

“Girl, you need a good dicking, "I say as I grab my favorite soap, one that I make myself and start to rub it against my body as hard as I can.

Sam doesn’t look as if he is interested in touching you any time soon. I add and exhale.

Fuck.