Ben doesnโt look particularly concerned about me killing him.
Or surprised, actually.
He cocks his head, his face betraying nothing. โYouโre thinking about killing me.โ Itโs not so much a question as a calm repeat of what Iโve just said.
โI do it all the time.โ I donโt know why Iโve decided to tell all my secrets to the absolute worst person to confess them to, but here we are. He did say that he wanted the truth from me. This is one I can actually give him. โWith everyone. I think about killing them.โ
โLikeโฆโ He shifts, and then pauses, and I see his gaze flick briefly to the bag by the door, which has the microphone. He wants to ask whether he can record this.
He doesnโt. Heโs good enough at this to know when the answer will be
no.
โLike intrusive thoughts,โ I say. โI canโt stop them. I pick a weapon, and
I imagine killing people.โ
โYou pick a weapon.โ He speaks slowly. โWhateverโs around. I get creative.โ
His lips twitch. Maybe in amusement, maybe in fear. I donโt know which one Iโm rooting for.
โWhich weapon did you choose in here?โ
โThe glass first.โ I point to it. โThat wouldnโt kill you, though. So, the knife.โ I touch my own throat. โThen the lamp.โ
โTheย lamp?โ
โIโd bash it against your head.โ
โI think itโs too heavy for you to get enough momentum to do that.โ
โIโm not always realistic.โ โSure.โ
โAnd suffocating you with a pillow. Later. When youโre asleep.โ
His neutral expression cracks with that one. He takes in a slow breath. โThat oneโs realistic,โ he says, his voice strained.
โMaybe not. You could wake up and fight me off.โ He lifts an eyebrow. โMaybe.โ
โDepends on how long it takes you to wake up,โ I say.
โAnd how strong you are.โ Heโs staring at me with a look I canโt identify, until he shifts slightly in his chair, and I see it. Heโs turned on.
I stand and walk to him. I hike up my dress as I lower onto his lap, straddling him.
I put both my hands around his neck. โOr I could just strangle you right now.โ
He meets my gaze. His breathing is ragged.
I take one hand off his neck to unzip his pants. I move my underwear to one side. He sucks in a breath as I raise my hips, and then lower them so he slides inside me.
I put both hands around his neck again, squeezing tighter this time.
I lean closer, my lips against his ear. โYou took Paigeโs key back. How long do you think it would be until they discovered your body?โ
He makes a strangled noise. I grip harder, grinding my hips against his. โIt would be a good ending, donโt you think? Podcaster gets murdered
by the woman everyone thought he was going to exonerate? People would remember you forever. The guy who solved the case, but he got killed while fucking the murderer.โ
I lean back to look at him. His chin is tilted back, his face red. โTighter, tighter!โ Savvy cheers.
Benโs body jerks, another strangled noise escaping from his throat. He goes still.
I slowly let go of his neck.
He lets out a whoosh of air. His gaze doesnโt leave the ceiling for several seconds as he breathes heavily.
He finally meets my gaze, his face still flushed.
I lean forward. When I speak, my lips brush against his. โMaybe Iโll kill you later tonight.โ
He smiles.