One wrong step and she’d fall.
And this time, I wouldn’t be able to catch her.
“Come on, Lyla!” I shouted over the wind, moving closer to her. “Stop! Come back! You’re safe with me!”
Her head jerked around. “Safe?” she screamed. “That’s a joke! I’m not safe as your prisoner! Or worse, being shipped off!” A gust of wind hit her, and she scrambled to rebalance. “I think I’ll take my chances. Anything to get away from you,” she said into the wind.
She focused on the dividing wall and slowly worked her way toward the section separating my terrace from the neighbor’s. Twelve inches was the only thing between her and certain death.
I cursed and vaulted onto the parapet.
She was nearly there. Just a few more steps, and she’d reach the four-foot expanse separating the patios. She’d have a concrete wall on one side and nothing on the other. Nothing to grasp. One slip, one wrong move, and she’d be gone. Splattered below. Nothing but blood and guts on the sidewalk.
I took a step toward her. “Don’t do this,” I said. “I’ll come to you—just stay still.”
She took another step away from me.
Then her foot slipped.
I lunged.
She screamed as her body dropped.
I caught her.
My right hand locked around her forearm, my left catching the edge of the trellis. Her life hung by my strength alone as she dangled thirty-two stories above the street.
Rain hammered down. Wind lashed across the patio.
She looked up at me, frozen and unmoving, utter terror written across her face.
“Swing your foot up to the edge,” I ordered. “It’s no different from what you do when you perform.”
Something shifted in her expression. The fear didn’t completely vanish, but determination mostly took its place.
“Pull yourself up!” I bellowed.
She gritted her teeth and summoned her strength. Her abs flexed as she lifted herself up, and her body arched as she dragged one leg upward, levering herself onto the edge.
I hauled her up, then jumped down from the ledge, still holding tight to her arm. When I was certain we were both out of immediate danger, I released the trellis.
One of her legs had landed on the parapet; the other was dangling in empty space. I reached forward, grabbed her by the crotch, and dragged her fully onto the ledge—until her body was pressed against my chest.
Her breaths came in sharp, heavy gasps.
The heat of her crotch seared into my palm, even through cold rain-soaked fabric.
Fuck.
Her eyes shot to mine as realization dawned. She froze. Her breath caught. Her eyes were feral as rain streaked down her cheeks.
Her T-shirt clung to her skin. The swell of her breasts, her taut nipples, and the muscles of her abs were on full display as her thighs lay spread open.
I had a death grip on her cunt and her arm.
I didn’t let go because I didn’t want to.
She was soaked, shivering, and furious—but she was still the most gorgeous fucking creature I’d ever laid eyes on.
