His words paint a picture of him and me in a dark room. Him lying on a bed, maybe. Me leaning over him.
“Uhhgghh.” The gurgling sound I make is because this conversation pulled a plug from my pussy and my brain drained out. Exactly as Blake must have intended. I flop my head back onto my pillow and stare at the ceiling.
Except, all I can see is Blake.
“I’ll have no less from you. Face to face. Skin to skin. Press forward, and feel the heat between us. The awareness of a dangerous predator.”
Him. He’s the hunter, and I’m the prey.
I knew that, but it’s never been so clear that he’s toying with me.
I honestly attempt a retort. But I’ve got nothing but a new, insistent beat between my legs and a body that’s twitching with the need to be touched. By him.
“I would bleed for you, Bunny,” he tells me in a rough, gravelly tone
How is that sexy? He’s talking about blood. Surely it’s not romantic?
But my pussy thinks it’shot.
“I don’t think that’s a good thing to say to an assassin,” I manage to get out.
“My little bunny the killer. Come and meet me. I have work for you.” He’s pure temptation.
“I can’t.” I’m on firmer ground here. “I already have a job.”
“Fictional murders don’t count.” He dismisses smoothly. “How much? I can pay.”
It’s a harsh reminder. He’s a billionaire mafia boss who’s playing a game, and I’m a girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing, and can’t afford to get into trouble. “I don’t want your money. You’ve paid me plenty.”
“Come and try out your skills on me, then. See if we can enjoy real life as much as fiction.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I protest.
“Bunny.” Authority rings in his tone. This isn’t a man used to anyone denying him. “We have to meet.”
“No.” I was brave and foolhardy enough to get into this situation, and now I have to be firm about getting out of it. “Our agreement was that we talked on the phone. We’ve done that.”
“Tell me where you are,” he insists, low and intense. “I’ll come for you.”
A crazy urge grips my heart. The mafia boss, coming for me? I should fear for my life, but instead all I can think is how much I long to go to him and throw myself into his arms.
I was looking forward to this conversation, and it has more than delivered.
“Tell me your address. Now.”
I want to.
Blake is funny, and hot, and far more charming than a killer should be. He understands me like no one ever has. My secret need for danger, desire to be treated as an equal and not a kid. He gets my jokes, too.
And I can’t ever see him. I can’t tell him my name, or who I am, or anything about me, or my brother will die. However good this has been with Blake. However amazing I’m certain it would be to let the kingpin catch me, and have me in any way he chose, that’s impossible.
“Not possible,” I whisper. I mustn’t.
“I’ll find you,” he says, and it sounds like a dark promise.
Shit shit shit.
This is so bad. Blake thinks this is all fun, but wait until he realises my brother screwed up and invited his sister to his private mafia group chat.
