I spent all day at my desk with my eyes glued to my monitors, watching my girl and her friend. They overslept, inarguably due to the high levels of alcohol running through their systems, and the hours I spent waiting for them to wake were excruciating.
I place my fourth to-go cup of coffee from Rustic Roast down on my coaster and pull the panties I found in her room out of my pocket. Bringing them to my face I run my nose along them, inhaling her intoxicating scent as I watch her on my screens.
This is what she wanted, why she left them for me to find.
My girl knows what she’s doing to me. I tuck them back safely in my pocket before stretching my sore, stiff body out in my chair. I barely slept. As expected, thoughts of my little nightmare plagued my head all night, which made getting any sleep next to impossible. My phone buzzes on my desk for the sixth time today. The leading agent on the case I’m working is persistent, I’ll give him that. Truth is I’m behind on my work. The surveillance I should’ve been doing on Jose Demarko, the leader of the Don Leon Cartel, has been spent instead watching my girl.
Jose killed my father, murdered him in cold blood twelve years ago, and since joining the CIA I’ve spent every minute I could working the case. I have spent any chance I can to get a lead, to get something I can use to bring him down, or to kill him myself. For the first time in my life, someone means more to me than revenge for my father’s death. That brief connection we shared at the café turned my entire world upside down, and now the only one I care about watching, the only lead I care about, is her. My little nightmare.
I’m like an addict craving his next fix, and tonight’s Halloween party is my dealer, serving me the only thing that’s going to silence the burning need that has overpowered every fiber of my being.
The girls are moving around the house, getting themselves ready for the party tonight. Sloan is off somewhere that my cameras don’t reach, and my girl is sitting at the vanity in her room, getting herself all dolled up for me.
After watching them all day, I know their entire itinerary for tonight. They plan to be at a cornfield just outside of town within the next hour, which will give me the opportunity to make a quick stop at her house and set up my gift.
Leaning forward in my chair, I rest my elbows on the desk, getting an up-close and personal view of my girl as she prepares herself for tonight. Simply knowing tonight is the night, the night she becomes mine, has my cock twitching, and I’m forced to reach down and readjust myself in my pants. My tongue darts out across my lower lip, wetting it as I grip my thickened girth tightly in my hand, my eyes fluttering closed at my own touch as I envision my plans for tonight and how good it’s going to feel to finally sink myself deep inside my girl.
Opening my eyes, I turn my attention back to the cameras as a guttural growl slips from my lips. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s getting herself all dressed up for me in her sexy princess costume, and I can’t wait to claim her.
Shoving my chair back, I stand, bouncing between feet with excitement for tonight as I watch her add the final touches to her costume.
“Tonight, we play,” I say aloud, smirking as she tweaks the silver tiara resting on her perfect head. “And I can’t wait to show you what I have planned, baby.” I watch as she slides her feet into a set of heels, and find myself unable to control the grin that forms on my face with the thought of how much she’s going to regret wearing those later. My voice is barely above a whisper as I speak to the images of her on my screens, “I’m going to fucking ruin you, and watching you break for me is going to be the most beautiful fucking show, little nightmare.”
When the sun sets, I observe the girls as they make their way through the house, turning off the lights as they head outside and off to the party in a cab they arranged earlier in the day. I grab my leather jacket off the back of my chair, and race toward the door, eager to get over to my girl’s house and set up her surprise. I pick up the duffel bag carrying that bastard’s carved head that I left by the door last night, and I swing it over my shoulder in a similar fashion to taking out the trash. My chest tightens with anticipation as I tuck the pumpkin mask into the pocket of my jacket.
“Don’t worry, Jonah. I’ll sport this mask better than you did, and I’ll fuck my girl better than you ever did while wearing it.” I smirk, staring down at the duffle bag.
I slip out into the dark hallway, locking the door behind me before walking down to where my bike is parked outside. I climb on and start up the engine. My baby purrs under me, sending vibrations coursing through my body as I hit my heel on the kickstand, slide my visor down, and merge into traffic, speeding to my girl’s house.
When I pull up to the dark Victorian house I notice the streets are already filled with trick-or-treaters. They’re going door to door collecting candy with their parents close behind them. I’m going to have to be careful while I set up my girl’s surprise. Turning off my bike, I slide off my helmet, resting it on the seat as I head up the path toward the house. Ghosts float around the bare trees on her lawn, and the bushes are draped with thick layers of cotton spider webs, tiny black spiders carefully placed around them. As I climb the stairs, I find each step is perfectly decorated, and I can’t help but feel like my girl did it all just for me.
It’s obvious Cara went all out with decorations. I know she does every year; I’ve seen the pictures on her social media of past Halloweens, and she always goes all out, but this year she really outdid herself. As I continue up the stairs, I find them littered with masterfully carved pumpkins of all different shapes and sizes, with bright-colored faux leaves and tiny sparkling lights wrapped around them. I stop at each step, taking it all in and admiring my girl’s work until I reach the top step.
The porch is dark; the only light coming from the tiny lights and the glowing flames inside each perfectly crafted jack-o’-lantern. I find a chair leaning up against the wall on the left side of the porch and drag it over, placing it right beside the large door to her house.
The perfect place to set up my gift.
If it’s right by her door, it will be impossible for her to miss. Carefully sliding the duffle bag off my shoulder, I open it up and pull Jonah’s head out, placing it on the chair. It stinks, and the bag is definitely garbage now, but as I look over my craftsmanship, I couldn’t be more proud. It may not be as good as my girl’s jack-o’-lanterns, but I have no doubt she’s going to appreciate the hard work and time I put into it.
Just for her. My little nightmare.
Sliding my hand back inside the blood-soaked duffle bag, I pull out the small candle I threw in there earlier and place it inside Jonah’s carved mouth. Pulling out my Zippo, I strike it, light the small cotton wick with the flame, and watch as Jonah’s pale head lights up, the holes where his eyes and nose once were illuminated by the tiny flicker of fire resting on his stiff tongue. I thought I did a good job carving before it was all lit up, but seeing it like this, seeing the light shine through his carved-out smile, has blood pumping to my cock.
Cara is going to love it, and I can’t wait to see her face when she finally sees what I’ve set up for her. Killing for her is quickly becoming my new favorite hobby; no one fucks with my girl and lives. Jonah is proof of that, and I don’t feel guilty for ridding the world of one less scumbag. Besides, she made me do it. She didn’t have to let Jonah touch her, not after the moment we shared; she knew she was mine, or I thought she did. Now she’ll never be able to forget who she belongs to, and if she does, I don’t mind reminding her; it will give me another chance to work on my carving skills.
Pulling out a cigarette from my pocket, I place it between my lips and light it as thoughts of how tonight is going to go flood through my head. I can’t remember the last time I felt this anxious about anything, let alone a woman, but my girl is different. She’s not like the others, no. Cara saw the dark side of me when she looked into my eyes; I felt it. In that split second, she learned that I am the predator, and she is my prey, but she didn’t back down. She wants it. My little nightmare craves the chase just as badly as I do, and well, who am I to deny my girl what she wants?
I inhale deeply on the cigarette, the embers blazing bright orange as I fill my lungs with the intoxicating fumes. I fill the air around me with smoke as I exhale.
“You wanted to play baby, so let’s play,” I smirk as I toss the butt into Jonah’s mouth and head back down the stairs. I pull my helmet down over my head and climb onto my bike, my cock still hard and ready to sink deep into my girl.
Revving up the engine, I flip up the kickstand, taking one last look at my little setup before pulling out of the driveway and zipping off towards the pumpkin patch, towards my little nightmare.
