Fear: 13 Stories of Suspense and Horror Read Online Free Page B

be a little on the cocky side, too.
    She looked up at me. “Air,” she said simply.
    â€œYeah, it’s getting stuffy in here,” I said with a shrug. “Shall we slip away?” I was my most seductive self. I’d never quite imagined it like this. That I’d be more than playing, teasing. But I wasn’t jarred or thrown off. I was simply enjoying.
    She stared at me for a moment. I almost smiled. She looked the part, but she wasn’t quite there. She was like a deer caught in headlights. She seemed to tremble. Then she nodded. Just as if she’d been hypnotized.
    â€œUm, you did come alone?” I asked.
    â€œYeah.” Such a sweet, throaty note in her voice. “And . . . you? You came alone?” she asked.
    Okay, so I usually had a blonde with size quadruple-D bazoongas on my arm.
    I smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you all night. I’ve watched you, you know.”
    â€œOh,” she breathed, staring at me. “Really?”
    â€œReally,” I assured her.
    She flushed with pleasure and looked away for a moment. “You know,” she admitted, “I’ve been watching you, too.”
    â€œReally?” I countered.
    â€œReally,” she said. “I guess . . . well, I guess you didn’t notice. People are watching you all the time.”
    I shrugged, but smiled, and placed my hand at the small of her back.
    We slipped out the back door. I was careful. No one saw us.
    â€œHey, my car is right over there. And I have a six-pack in a cooler in the back,” I told her. I had noticed that she was carrying a draft beer.
    She looked up at me. Those eyes of hers were wicked tonight. “I’m sure you do,” she said.
    â€œBe prepared,” I said. “That’s my motto.”
    She laughed again. The sound was throaty. Sexy. Wow. It was going to be a good night. Oh, yes. Halloween. A full moon. This little wishy-washy girl suddenly looking like a Cosmo girl. It was all right. And she just had no idea.
    I felt my blood heating up. This was going to be an easy conquest. Easier than I had imagined.
    I slipped an arm around her shoulders as we walked to the car. There was a full moon out. Cool. Too cool. You didn’t get a full moon on Halloween all that often.
    We reached the car.
    â€œWant to drive?” I asked her.
    â€œSure.” She sounded a little breathless.
    It was such a great pickup. Everyone wanted to drive my car. It was a jazzed-up sports car, an Audi with a few custom alterations. Friends drooled to have my car. And she was getting to drive it.
    I opened the driver-side door for her, and she slid in. I bounded around to the passenger’s seat and hopped in beside her. She was running her fingers over the leather seat. “Nice,” she told me.
    â€œThanks. Ivanna Romanoff,” I said, rolling her name pleasantly on my tongue. “Pretty name.”
    â€œI’m glad you like it,” she told me. I was a little surprised. After the first sign of shock she’d shown, she’d begun gaining some confidence. Maybe she knew that she was nerdy, but—now that she was in the proper attire—dynamite-looking and totally alluring without her hunch-over-her-books and down-on-the-nose glasses.
    â€œRussian?” I asked her.
    She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, well, I guess my ancestors were from Eastern Europe, somewhere. Vince Romero. Spanish? Italian?”
    I smiled. “Eastern European, too,” I said. “But, hey, maybe that means we’re meant for each other, huh? Romero—Romanoff. Not that far off.”
    â€œNot that far off at all,” she said, nodding.
    â€œThere you have it—two unique, mysterious pasts!” I said.
    â€œOh, quite.” She laughed. “And we both have New England accents,” she said.
    â€œHey, ain’t that America? Land of opportunity,” I said.
    The moon was rising. It was getting later.
    Surely, she must