Read Online First Night of Summer by Landon Parham - Free Book Online Page B

the electronics at the foot of the bed and along the side. Each had its purpose. It was imperative that Bailey experience the moment as acutely as he was. The more animated her reactions, the better the thrill.
    He jotted down a few words in his journal. The page was titled “Bailey Davis” and scrawled with numerous notes from the reconnaissance phase. He finished scribbling, checked the camera equipment once more, and shifted gears. Finally, after more than a month of failed plans, letdown, searching, and making new plans, he was going to have his pound of flesh.

Chapter Fourteen
    B ailey’s eyes were closed. She tried to block everything out, but nothing traumatic enough had happened yet to receive any disassociation from her brain. She was completely in the present.
    The sound of a zipper caught her attention, and she opened her eyes. The man was hunched over with his pants undone. She kept a close watch. Something bad was about to happen, but she didn’t know what. To want someone else’s body for pleasure was foreign, impossible to comprehend.
    “Ah, now you decide to look?” Ricky gazed down, his piercing eyes unblinking. “Just lay still, and I’ll do all the work.” He said each word with a creepy smile.
    His shirt fell to the ground. Someone might have called him scrawny, but there was too much muscle definition for that. His physique resembled a person on the edge of anorexia with a protein shake addiction.
    “What do you think? Hmmm? You like it, don’t you?”
    She looked away. It was her last defense. There was no way to run and hide, but she could deprive him the pleasure of flattery. Too scared to shut her eyes, the ceiling became the object of her focus. It was covered in the kind of foam her mom put under the sheets to make the bed soft. It felt like being inside an egg carton.
    He didn’t like that she looked away. Someone watching was someone interested. Interest was approval, attention, and validation. Look at me , his heart cried. Look at me .
    He was completely naked. Every inch of him was slick. A cleanly cut, if not slightly longer than normal, head of sandy brown hair was the only place not shaved or waxed. He climbed on the bed and stuffed a pillow under her head, propping it as high as possible. It was to keep her faced forward. She cringed at the contact, an invasion of her personal space.
    “There now.”
    He raised himself up to where his pelvis was only a foot from her watery eyes. The dream that things would ever be consensual was given up long ago. People who managed to pull that amount of trust from their victims had to work at it over a period of time. A next-door neighbor, a teacher, or a friend’s brother were good examples. They were also the same people who got caught. Sooner or later, someone found out. That lifestyle did not appeal to him. He didn’t care for lasting relationships, and he didn’t care to go easy. He wanted to do what he wanted when he wanted and not worry about some little shit tattling.
    The van was warm inside. He had the air on, but anticipation heated his body. It was glossy, slick to the touch. The moment was huge, built in his mind for days. He could not rush it. A fine wine is supposed to be savored, relished, and consumed in small, conscientious sips.
    Both his hands settled on top of her clothes and slowly massaged. His skin constricted into goose bumps at the first touch. The euphoria was always greatest at commencement, slowly leaking endorphins into his system of sins.
    Bailey couldn’t speak, so she pled with her eyes. The orbs beckoned for mercy. The softest most innocent eyes there ever were, pure virtue muddied by scum. She couldn’t understand why she deserved it.
    He lifted the bottom of her shirt and rested his clammy hand on her warm tummy. It palpated rapidly, up and down with each breath. The skin-to-skin contact sent another rush of thrills through him. It was what he felt, loved, and craved enough to steal a child. One was