"Exactly like hunting." His free hand slides down to grip my hip, fingers digging into the flesh. "One person runs; the other pursues. When you're caught..." He lets the sentence hang, and my imagination fills in the blanks with images that make my cheeks burn.
"And when you're caught?" I press, my voice barely a whisper. I'm shivering despite the heat of the warehouse.
"Then the hunter gets to do whatever the fuck they want with their prey," he says, his voice thick with promise.
My body reacts instantly, a pulse of wet heat between my legs making me squirm against him. The idea of Ramsey hunting me, catching me, claiming me—it's making my heart race so fast I feel dizzy.
"So you do this here?" I ask, my voice breathless. "The hunting thing? The primal play?"
He shakes his head; the mask moving eerily in the dim light. "No, baby. I don't do this here."
"Then why are you wearing the mask?" I challenge, running my fingers along its glowing edge.
Ramsey lets out a low chuckle, his hand still resting on my throat. "Because someone's being fucking funny. Cope knows exactly what he's doing, giving me this." He pulls the mask up slightly, just enough to expose his mouth but keeping his eyes covered. "I'm not opposed to the idea, but you and I both know it's only been you since I first laid eyes on you."
I freeze, my entire body going still. "Wait, what?"
He pulls the mask off completely now, his blue eyes burning into mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "Ihaven't been with or even fucking looked at anyone else since I saw you on your sister's phone four years ago."
"Four years ago?" My mind races, trying to process what he's saying. "But that's?—"
"Before we even met. Yeah." His thumb traces my jawline, touch feather-light despite the tension radiating from him.
My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can feel it. "But you've dated other people. I've seen you with?—"
"No." He cuts me off, voice sharp. "I haven't. Not once in four years."
"But what about Jessica? And that girl from your programming class?" I'm struggling to make sense of this. "And all those nights you disappeared?"
His laugh is harsh. "Jobs. People who needed a little info and had very deep pockets. Jessica was Penn's idea—thought I needed to get over my 'little obsession.' Lasted one look at her before I walked out."
My head is spinning. "And the nights you disappeared?"
"Sometimes BEDLAM," he admits. "Sometimes just riding around until I could get my shit together. Being around you and not having you was fucking torture, Reese."
I stare at him, trying to process that Ramsey—my Ramsey—has been carrying this for four years. Four fucking years of wanting me while I dated another guy.
"You expect me to believe you haven't gotten off in four years?" The words come out louder than I intended, drawing a few curious glances from nearby dancers.
"I didn't say that." His eyes darken, somethingdangerous flashing in them. "I said I haven't been with anyone else."
It takes me a second to catch his meaning, and when I do, my cheeks flame hot. "Oh. So you've just..."
"Jerked off thinking about you? Yeah." He says it so bluntly, like he's commenting on the weather. "A fucking lot."
My heart hammers against my ribs. This is too much. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
His jaw tightens. "Because I'm not the kind of man who deserves someone like you."
"That's bullshit," I snap, surprising myself with the vehemence in my voice. "You don't get to decide what I deserve."
A muscle in his jaw ticks. "Maybe not. But I know what I am, Reese. I know the shit I've done. The shit I want to do." His eyes flick toward the mask, and I catch his meaning. He wants to chase me, to hunt me.
I'm done with him treating me like I'm made of fucking glass.
"If I want you to make me your prey, you'll do it," I say, my voice surprisingly steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I reach out and snatch the mask from his hand, pressing it against my own face for a moment, feeling the cool material against my skin. I pull it away, studying its eerie glow before sliding it back onto his face, positioning it carefully.
"You don't know what you're saying," he growls. "You have no fucking clue what you're getting yourself into."
