My obsession.
And because he’s my obsession, I make it a habit of tracking his movements.
No, literally. I placed a tracker on his car.
Nothing says caring like not respecting boundaries.
Still…
Anger flashes inside me, and I swallow a hiss from the quick but searing burn. A part of me hates him for this relentless, hungry fixation. The only thing I’ve obsessed over as much as him is revenge for my mother. Yet that same part wishes I were a fervent atheist instead of a devout disciple to the religion ofhim.
The Huntsman may be my would-be assassin, but Malachi Bowden is my weakness.
And anyone who wishes to not just survive but fucking thrive in our world knows that when a weakness is discovered, you cut that bitch out and cauterize the site so nothing grows in its place.
A small, nearly imperceptible sound snags my attention.
My gaze narrows on his face, which remains at rest. Nothing about it has changed. But I know what I heard.
A soft hitch in breath. A switch in rhythm. A nearly infinitesimal higher rise of his chest.
The Huntsman is awake.
Despite his imminent murder, a delight blooms deep within me, spreading until its warmth radiates through my chest and belly and pulses between my thighs.
Oh yeah.
I don’t even try and pretend that the anticipation of him—of all that visceral power and strength and fuckingmalice—doesn’t make me wet. That I’m straddling it, controlling it, has me downright soaked.
“Wakey, wakey,” I softly taunt, skinning the apple until one long, seamless rind plops to his abdomen. “I know you’re not asleep.” I cleanly slice a piece of apple off and bite into the crispfruit. The sweet and tart flavor fills my mouth, and I hum. Then set the juice-dampened tip of the blade just under his chin. “Or maybe the great Huntsman prefers to die with his eyes closed. Can’t face death head-on? Blood makes you squea—oh. There you are,” I purr, as the dense fringe of his lashes lifts and his gray-blue gaze crashes into mine. “What’s that saying about pride? I’d say you’re headed for a fall, but you’re already kind of ass planted on my bed. Lucky me.”
No one in their right mind would goad this man, even with him chained to their bed.
But then again, I’ve been accused of many things in my twenty-five years—blackmail, armed robbery, bribery, assault, murder—but no one’s ever leveledsaneat me.
“That’s much better. You have such pretty eyes,” I murmur, tracing the knife’s point up over his chin, the corner of that lewdly carnal mouth, the blunt thrust of his cheekbone, to settle just under the rim of his lashes. And press hard enough to dent the tender, softer skin.
He doesn’t even flinch.
And that steely, crystallized stare doesn’t waver from my face.
But it promises all kinds of things. Mostly pain. And screams. Mine.
A shiver ripples down my spine. Not one of fear though.
Pleasure. Delicious, dirty pleasure.
“Mmm,” I hum, shifting low on his stomach and nearly hissing at the frisson of lust that pops and spider-webs over and through me like the cracks across a shattered windshield. “I’d love to let you try it,” I whisper. No, he didn’t vocalize a thing, but we both know what he relayed, nonetheless. And it thrills me. “I know I’d enjoy it. I think you would, too.”
I lean back, straightening, and resume eating my apple. After cutting off another slice, I pop it into my mouth and chew, contemplating him. His gaze flicks to the fruit, then back up to stare into my eyes.
“But back to the matter at hand. Which is my assassinationattempt.” I tsk-tsk. Cut another slice. Chew. “I don’t need to ask who sent you. Although there’s a plethora of people who’d love to kill me”—why, yes, that might be a hint of pride that slides through my voice—“only one person would be foolish enough to try it. Or…” I cock my head. “Solicit it. Abena.”
He doesn’t react. Not one muscle twitches. He just continues to stare at me, unblinking.
I smile.
“Still not talking?” I shrug. Cut. Chew. “Like I said, I don’t need confirmation. Abena is a coldhearted bitch and a sociopath, and those are her good qualities. It’s that nasty penchant for murdering her family members that pisses me off.”
