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"No," I rush out. "This is perfect." I smile.

He nods, hope filling his eyes, and crawls over to the small coffee table, grabbing a remote. He flicks through the various apps on the screen.

I shake myself out of my rapidly spiralling thoughts.

“What film do you want to watch?” Xander asks.

I’m not even listening to a word this man is saying. My eyes are fixated on how the muscles of his back contract with each movement. How his arms flex.

Films are quickly becoming the last thing on my mind.

My centre burns with the need to have him inside me again, but Xander doesn’t look one bit interested in the same thing that I’m thinking.

I’m not used to normal Xander. It’s scary if anything.

But there go my less than normal thoughts about sex. Always at the most inappropriate time and always to forget the horrors.

“Scream?” he suggests.

“Sure.” I shrug.

Keep your eyes on his face.

Eyes on his face.

I smile up at him as he settles in beside me.

“What?” he asks, his eyebrow cocking in suspicion.

Nothing, just thinking about how good you would look inside me right now.

“Nothing.”

At some point during the film, our positions change. I lie near the edge of the sofa, while Xander lies behind me.

“Do you like horror films?” he asks.

“They’re my favourite,” I admit. “I was born in October. It’s only fitting.”

His deep chuckle reverberates over my back.

The feel of him pressing into me does nothing to sate the thoughts running wild in my head about him.

I shuffle myself closer into him, subtly grinding my ass into his hips. His arm slips under my oversized t-shirt, and his palm comes to rest on my boob. I’m already so on edge that the gesture sends a shock to the apex of my thighs.

Xander seems none the wiser.

A scene of a woman being chased by Ghostface starts playing on the screen, and my heart rate increases.

“Are you scared?” Xander whispers in my ear. The sudden sound of his voice makes me jerk, and he chuckles. The low timbre of his voice sends more heat rushing to my core.

“No.” I shake my head.

His hand presses firmly into my breast. “Then why is your heart racing?”

His mouth skims over the shell of my ear, his breath fanning over my cheek.

For some reason, watching the woman being chased by a masked man with a knife in his hand excites me.