“Letty is mine. She’ll always be mine,” Gage growls. “Don’t fucking forget it.”
I almost tip over when Gage releases me. His hands rest on my hips until I’m no longer swaying. There’s a confident smirk on his lips as he releases me, sits on his bike, and leaves.
He just leaves me. Again.
What. The. Fuck.
Okay, now I’m angry.
I glare at Gage’s retreating back, shock settling over me. What just happened?
Brekker scrubs a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
I turn my head to stare at him. Blinking, I process the last few minutes. Have I just been mind-fucked by Gage Blade again?
Yes. Yes, I have.
I make a noise of frustration in my throat when I hear Brekker laugh. It’s a bitter sound with a touch of humor.
“I really fucking hate that guy.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s cocky, dangerous, and he’s taken something I can’t ever have, no matter how much I wish it was different.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You, Letty.” He slides a thick strand of my hair behind my ear. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you before you drive home.”
Brekker holds out his arm, and I slide my hand around his bicep, letting him lead me inside. Our table is still there, drinks full, and menus open.
We order food, more than either of us can eat. And we laugh—a lot. Somehow, the tension between us is broken when the prospect of anything more than friendship is off the table.
It’s the best night I’ve had in four years. No pretending. No worry. Just okay food and much better company.
By the time I drive up to my house and pull up the driveway, it’s late. I shut the garage door behind me as I park. Once I’m inside, I stash the leftovers in the fridge, pour a glass of wine, and retreat to my room.
Mom isn’t home, so most of the lights are out, and the house is quiet. I kick off my heels and change into a tank and loose shorts. It’s hot outside, but comfortable in my room.
I’m flipping through movies on my Netflix account when I hear a noise outside. There’s movement, and it’s not an animal. It’s certainly not the wind. It’s a feeling I can’t describe.
A pull that seems to resonate in the center of my chest, trying to drag me toward my balcony. It won’t release me.
Somehow, I know it’s Gage outside my window. I slip from the bed and flip open my balcony doors. And there, standing infront of me, is a man dressed in all black. I can’t see his face. He’s wearing a balaclava.
I gasp and back away from him, turning to flee. For some reason, I don’t scream. I can’t.
A hand wraps around my ponytail, halting my steps, and yanks my body backward. I collide with the stranger. His front to my spine. His hard cock digging into my lower back.
Oh, shit!
I try to fight him off as his hand wraps around my throat. So far, he’s said nothing. But when he begins to tighten his grip, I cry out.
“Shhhh,” he soothes in a husky tone.
I’m dragged to my bed. The stranger presses his palm to my spine and forces me to lie on my stomach. I’m shaking with terror and anticipation. There’s only one man who ever touches me with the same intensity, authority, and raw sensuality.
“Gage,” I whisper.
