Page 169 of Fatality

Thrilled because I already know she's going to try to rip my fucking head off the second I find her.

And just the thought sends my body into overdrive.

I've always enjoyed letting my dark side take control.

Most of the time, I hand it the reins without a second thought.

She wants to play? Fine.

We'll play.

“Here I come, troublemaker.” I whistle as I start walking. “I hope you're hiding very, very well.”

Her loft is exactly how we left it before I kidnapped her.

Clean, but still lived in.

The exposed brick, the black steel beams—the whole place is fucking killer.

Totally her.

It smells like her—cold leather, metal, warm skin, and that faint trace of dark amber that goes straight to my cock making it throbbing.

Too fucking easy to get in, the emergency stairs, her front door.

Nothing can stop me from getting to her.

Nothing.

I always get what I want.

But I can’t focus on that, we’re playing and I intend to win.

To catch her, to make her regret ever thinking she could walk away from me, to see that fire in her eyes.

I head toward the mezzanine and take the stairs at an unhurried pace like I belong here.

Because I do.

I throw myself onto her bed, still fully dressed.

See if I give a shit.

I spread out shamelessly, boots and all because if she’s going to make me chase her, then I’m making myself comfortable.

And besides—she can scream at me for dirtying the sheets when I find her.

I grab her pillow and pull it over my face, inhaling deeply.

Fuck.

She smells so good.

I can't get enough of it.

A grin spreads against the fabric as I close my eyes for a second.

Mine.