I step closer, crowding her space without touching her. Her shoulders press into the wall, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans in a fraction, like she’s testing me.
“So,” she says, breathless but smiling, eyes bright and way too calm for someone who watched me gut a body not that long ago. “You always stalk girls from across the room like a fucking creep after you kill someone?” A beat. “Or am I just that special?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Damn,” I say, impressed. “No denial. No screaming. Straight to calling me out. I like that.”
She shrugs, all casual attitude and sharp mouth. “I figured pretending you’re not a murderer would be, like… weird. And a waste of both our time.”
“Fair.” I tilt my head, amused as hell. “And for the record, I don’t stalk unless someone makes it obvious they want the attention.”
Her brow lifts. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say easily. “And you, little Valentine, showing up here tonight dressed like that—” My eyes drag down her body, slow, and deliberate, taking her in like I’ve got all the time in theworld. “—looking at me the way you did. That wasn’t subtle. That was you putting on a show.” I step a fraction closer. “And when you ran? You didn’t run scared. You ran smug. Kept looking back. Smiling like youwantedme on your heels.” A smirk curves under the mask. “To a guy like me? This little cat-and-mouse thing we’re doing?” I shrug lightly. “That’s flirting, baby.”
She laughs under her breath. “So you chased because you think I wanted you to.”
“Exactly,” I say. “And I’m a big believer in consent.”
Her eyes flick over the wings, the mask, the bow. “That’s a fucked-up way to look at it.”
“Maybe,” I agree cheerfully.
I lift the blade just enough for the tip to brush her throat, right where her pulse jumps hard under my touch. I don’t press it into her flesh, I don’t need to.
“But your pulse says you’re enjoying the hell out of this.”
Her breath hitches, just once, before she schools it.
She leans back against the wall, arms loose, eyes locked on mine. “So, what now?” she asks lightly. “You going to take care of the witness… or are you just gonna stand there and stare?”
I snort, lowering the blade but not giving her any space. “Wow. You’re either real brave?—”
“Or real stupid,” she finishes for me, smiling wider. “Yeah, I know. I’ve heard that before.”
She tilts her head, teeth worrying her bottom lip like she’s considering her options, and then her hand slides forward, bold as fuck, grabbing my hard cock through my jeans like she’s testing a theory instead of touching something that should scare her off.
Her smile turns soft and mischievous.
“Aww, Cupid,” she murmurs, eyes flicking up to mine. “You really are enjoying this just as much as I am. Probably more.”
My breath stalls for half a second.
She gives a tiny, pleased nod, like she just confirmed what she already knew. “That,” she adds lightly, “tells me you’re not here to just kill me. At least not yet.”
Holy shit.
This bitch is fucking wild.
My first instinct is to laugh. The second is to pull her closer and see how far she’s willing to take this. The third, the one that really fucks me up, is how much I like that she didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t ask. Just reached for me like she wanted something and fucking took it.
She didn’t care that I’m a killer, or that she should be scared.
She wanted it. So she took it.
That does something dangerous in my chest.
I catch her wrist in my hand, not to stop her, just to feel her pulse again under my fingers. It’s racing with excitement.
Matching mine perfectly.
