My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I push harder, my feet barely touching the ground. The trees blur past; the wind biting against my skin. I veer left, then right, zigzagging to throw him off.
It doesn’t work.
He’s closing in.
I can hear him now—his breathing measured, his footsteps unhurried, like this is too easy.
Panic surges through me. I scan my surrounding area, frantic for a hiding place. Ahead, half-hidden by thick branches, an old shack slouches against the trees—a last chance.
I lunge for the door, wrench it open, and slip inside, pressing my back against the wall.
The air is thick with the scent of rotten wood and decay. My pulse hammers as I listen, the heavy silence only broken by my heaving breaths.
The door creaks.
A shadow moves.
And then—Chase steps inside.
The dim light catches on the sharp angles of his face, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to.
I take a step back.
He steps forward.
The space between us vanishes in an instant.
I twist, trying to dart past him, but he’s faster. A hand grips my wrist, firm, inescapable. I gasp, but before I can even think to fight, he spins me, pressing me into the wall.
His body cages mine in, his heat sinking into me, his breath warm against my temple.
“Let me go,” I pant, struggling against him.
His grip tightens around my wrists, pressing them into the rough wood. “Are you having fun with him?” Chills scrape my spine as he grazes his lips across my cheekbone and down to my lips like he’s inhaling me, pulling me under his spell.
“If you’re talking about Elliott, I’m flattered you’re so jealous,” I clap back, throwing his words from before back at him.
His jaw hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “Were you hoping he would give you a tip if you smile at him hard enough? If you let him touch what’s mine.”
“Go to hell,” I spit, my temper fraying at what an arrogant ass he’s being.
“Oh, I’m going there, Violet, don’t worry, but I’m taking you with me,” he growls, one hand lowering to grip my jaw possessively. My heart stutters at the raw hunger in his eyes, dark and unwavering like I'm already his. I should shove himaway, remind myself why this is a mistake. But the second his lips crash onto mine, I moan into his mouth. Every thought of resistance wiped clean.
His tongue pushes past my lips, claiming me, his stubble scraping against my skin as he tilts my head back, taking everything. His hand slides lower, wrapping around my throat with just enough pressure to steal what little air I have left.
He tugs my leg around his waist with rough urgency, grinding his thick arousal into my core until I’m drenched. The ache between my thighs pulses with every sensual drag of his tongue against mine, so that all I can think about is the way he buried his face between my thighs and ate me out with the same devastating precision.
Through the moonlit darkness, his fingers grapple with my zipper, yanking it down. I whimper when he teases a finger along my slit with a groan.
“My good girl,” he croons. “Always dripping for me.”
I’m on the brink of giving myself to him completely when the ninth siren pierces through the night sky, the shrill wail scattering a flock of birds from the trees in a chaotic flurry of wings.
If I don’t make it back to the safe zone, we lose.
From out of nowhere, a monster of a wicked idea takes root.
For once, I’m taking control.
