A/N: I know some of you have been waiting a LONG time for me to update this story. Last October I had baby #4 (Abigail Michelle), and life has become very hectic as I am now raising a 7 y.o., a 3.5 y.o., a 2.5 y.o., and a 9 m.o. Plus, we recently added a 2 y.o. dog (Millie) to the family.

But, alas, the wait is now over, my faithful readers. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.


What's going on? Why do I need protecting?

Those two questions persistently plagued Megan's mind during the remainder of her work day. It wasn't until she was sitting in the Cutlass next to Michael that she was finally able to voice them out loud. Unfortunately, the only response she received was a blank stare out the windshield, which she found quite unnerving. "Michael, please say something—anything," she pleaded at last.

He parked his car in front of her apartment. His silence continued as they exited the vehicle and walked up the front steps. Although the killer was notorious for his lack of verbal communication, his refusal to speak set Megan her on edge.

She dug in her coin pocket for her key and opened the door. Once she entered her apartment, Michael strode passed her and went directly into the kitchen. He promptly tuned on the sink faucet, waiting for a minute before swiping a hand through the steady stream of clear liquid. "You have hot water now," he announced, breaking his silence.

"Great," Megan said. "I'm going to take a shower then."

Michael simply nodded as though he had made the discovery solely for that purpose. He let the teenager go about her normal shower routine without interruption or evading her privacy, which she greatly appreciated. Even though they hadn't discussed boundaries, he was putting them in place. That in itself made more comfortable with their new living arrangement.

Megan emerged from the bathroom wearing an aqua tank top and her "good" jeans that hugged her curves a little more tightly than her work jeans did. Michael, who was seated at the kitchen table, didn't say anything to her, but she could feel his gaze burning into her as she grabbed a frozen pizza from the freezer and preheated the oven. When he finally met his stare, she was taken aback by the raw passion in his expression, and it spoke directly to her libido. She was expecting him to stand up and attack her. However, he remained sitting, which gave her the chance to prep her pizza while she waited for the oven to reach the correct temperature.

It wasn't until she put her dinner in the oven that he entered the kitchen, successfully trapping her between him and the counter. She wasn't sure who made the first move, but suddenly she was in his arms with their mouths latched together in a hungry kiss.

"Michael," Megan eventually uttered. "Touch me. Please."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. I just need to feel your hands on me."

Michael complied by sliding his hands underneath the back of Megan's shirt. Using his fingertips, he kneaded her shoulder blades that were stiff from three days of painting. She softly groaned in response.

"I'm thinking you should have soaked in the tub instead of taking a shower," Michael lowly commented.

"I would have," said Megan, "but the hot water doesn't stay on long enough to fill the tub."

Her companion dropped his hands to her hips and took a small step back to look at her properly. "Megan, you deserve so much more than this."

She simply shrugged. "It's fine, Michael. Really." When his expression darkened, she said, "Michael, listen, I know living here like this is less than ideal, but I'm doing the best I can with what I have. All right?"

He sighed in resignation. "Yes, of course."

The oven went off, and Michael walked back to the table while Megan tended to her pizza. She joined him a few minutes later.

"Is that really all that you're going to eat?" he asked, referring to the two slices of pizza on her plate.

"For now," she retorted.

Shaking his head, Michael left the table. He returned carrying the rest of the pizza. "Megan, I know you are on a tight budget, but skipping meals and eating frugally to save money isn't doing you any favors. You need to eat."

"Fine," she relented. She reached for the pizza and pulled off a third piece. She ate in silence for a time before saying, "Just out of curiosity, do you ever wear your mask anymore?"

The killer pinned her under an intense stare. "I keep it with me, but as my soulmate, you are entitled to seeing the man behind the mask."

Megan took a minute to soak in his words, knowing he was referring to more than just his face. "Yet you are still the Boogeyman," she said.

Her companion solemnly nodded. "Yes, and that is something that will never change."

Releasing a quiet sigh, the teenager rose to her feet and began clearing the table. Michael observed her while she worked. Finally, he said, "Megan, once you finish cleaning up, meet me in your bedroom. Don't be long."

She simply nodded, wondering what the killer had in store for her. There was just one way to find out. She quickly wrapped up her leftover pizza and set it on a shelf in the refrigerator. Then, she left the kitchen.

Megan walked to her room, pausing at the door. Her body trembled slightly as she slowly turned the knob and passed through the threshold. Michael stood just a few feet from her, holding two strips of cloth in his hand. Her hearth thumped hard as she stared at the fabric. He followed her gaze and asked, "Megan, do you trust me?"

She instinctively nodded. "Yes."

"Good." Michael pointed to the bed. "Go ahead and lie down."

Megan obeyed, proving her trust. After she lowered her head to the pillow, Michael joined her on the bed and straddled her thighs. Then, he extended one of the strips of fabric and reached for her head. When she tensed, he said, "Don't worry, Megan. I'll be wearing one, too."

She eyed the other makeshift blindfold and asked, "Why?"

"Two reasons. First, taking away your sight will heighten all your other senses. Second, I'm going to undress you, and I have no intention of seeing you naked before we fuck."

"Oh," Megan breathed while Michael covered her eyes. Once the soft material was in place, he took her hand and raised it to his face. She smiled as her fingertips glided over his blindfold. Her smile, however, turned into a soft sigh when he pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist. Her pulse fluttered, and she knew he felt it.

"This is only the beginning, Megan," Michael softly promised. "Just wait." He returned her hand to the mattress so that he could unfasten her jeans. He pulled them down her legs, taking her panty along with them. Then, he found her hand and guided it down to her bare maidenhood. She drew in a sharp breath as he leisurely skimmed their joined forefingers along her slick folds. Their fingertips passed over her wet opening several times, teasing it, yet never once entering it. The teenager finally grunted in frustration.

"Michael, please…" she pleaded. He responded by settling their digits on her taut nub.

Although Megan thoroughly enjoyed clitoral stimulation, she yearned to experience a vaginal orgasm from the killer. She tried to move their fingers downward, but his hand refused to budge.

"No, Megan," he reprimanded, his tone firm. "I want my penis to be the first thing of mine to penetrate you."

"The first thing ever you mean," she corrected with some embarrassment.

The killer's fingers slackened against hers; however, his manhood twitched hard against her thigh, telling her he was more than a little turned on by her personal confession. "Megan, are you saying you have never once touched yourself?" he asked, incredulous.

"Not there," she said. "I wanted to preserve my virginity for the right guy."

Without warning, the killer released her hand and left the bed. The teenager's heart skipped a beat when she heard him unzip his coveralls. "Michael…?"

"Take off your shirt and bra, Megan," he curtly demanded. "I want to feel your naked body writhing underneath mine as I make us both come."

She hesitated only for a second before sitting up and following his bold command. After throwing her clothes on the floor, Michael returned to her, this time kneeling between her legs. Megan waited with bated breath for him to move, yet he remained motionless. The anticipation was making her anxious; she needed some type of contact with him. "Michael, please do something," she begged.

"And what exactly would you have me do, Megan?" he huskily countered.

"Kiss me," she mindlessly answered.

Michael instantly leaned over her, blanketing her with his warmth as his mouth sought hers. When their lips finally met, Megan sighed in satisfaction. She relaxed into the mattress as she lost herself in his kiss.

Fingers roughly pinching her nipples jolted Megan back into reality. She gasped loudly into Michael's mouth, overwhelmed by the different sensations his touch was causing, especially to her nether regions. Without thinking, she raised her hips and pressed that area firmly against his hard length. In response, he began rubbing his manhood against her wet slit. She moaned low in her throat, wishing she had the courage to touch him just so he would fuck her. However, even as he brought her to a strong climax, her hands did not stray from his sides.

With a soft grunt, Michael came, too, coating Megan's maidenhood with his warm sticky seed. He gave her lips one last kiss and before rising from the bed. She simply listened while he gathered up his clothes. Moments later the bedroom door creaked open and then clicked shut, announcing his departure.

Megan stayed on her bed, her fingers ghosting over the cum Michael had left behind, some of which was beginning to seep into her messy folds. Although they hadn't actually slept together, what they had done was still very intimate, at least to her.

Soulmate or not, Megan doubted she was the first girl whom Michael had fooled around with. He seemed too experience in the ways of sex to be a virgin. However, those girls' faces hadn't been sketched in his binder, only hers. That in itself was enough to tell her that she and Michael shared something special. Whether they were truly soulmates, though, still had to be seen.

Megan eventually pulled the blindfold up and over her head. She knew she had to clean up, but for the moment she was content just staring into the darkness of her room. She wasn't sure if Michael wanted to see her again or if he'd prefer she stay in her room for the remainder of the night. Maybe he was expecting her to be spent and go right to sleep. The problem was she didn't feel that tired. On the contrary, she was feeling oddly restless.

Megan left her bed and put her clothes back on, this time adding a black sweatshirt to her assemble. Then, she wandered out of her room and into the living room.

"Megan...?" Michael asked upon seeing her. "I thought you'd be asleep by now. It's getting late."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't sleep." She nervously pursed her lips together before saying, "Could we maybe go for a walk or something?"

He gave her a long searching look and then gestured to the door when his head. "Let's go."

The couple exited the apartment and starting heading towards the better part of town. Michael let Megan be, simply walking alongside her, acting as her silent protector.

"Thanks for this," she said, finally breaking the silence. "I've never experienced these types of feelings before—it's very intense."

"Yes, it is," Michael agreed.

The redhead smirked. "You're very intense."

"It's in my nature to push people, Megan. You are no exception."

"Well, one of these days I will break," she bluntly told him.

"Yes, but not before you are truly ready."

The teenager gave the killer a sideways glance, which he did not return. "You sound very sure about that."

"I am, mainly because I won't let it happen before then. I want your complete and utter surrender, Megan. Only then will I be fully satisfied."

"In that case, you might be waiting awhile," she warned.

Michael finally met her eyes and said, "Waiting does not bother me, Megan. You will find that I am a very patient man."

Something in his voice and expression made the hairs on Megan's neck stand on end. She quickly averted her gaze as they continued trekking down the dark sidewalk.

Eventually, they reached a lit street corner. Michael paused and gave her an expectant look. "Are you ready to turn back now?" he asked.

Megan nodded, more than ready to call it a night. Michael had given her a lot to ponder, and she knew time was already against her.