Vision darkening, I struggle against his hold. It’s getting harder to think.
He skims a finger down my cheek, over my jaw, and then lower. Exploring my body. The way I explored his two nights ago. Trailing over my arm and chest, over the mounds of my breasts. Down to my waist, clutching my hip. Every sensation isheightened, every touch magnified by one thousand as my brain searches for oxygen.
Pulling back, he gives me a quick reprieve. But just as oxygen starts filling my lungs, as blood starts flowing back into my brain, he starts again, pinning me in place.
I rest my head against the surface behind me, surrendering to the euphoria taking over. Throat under palm. Body tight to the wall. Bursts of pleasure igniting beneath my skin.
He feels it too. It’s etched all over his face, written in his eyes, in his dark, lustful, hungry expression. Like the last time he had me like this, when he flirted his fingers over the sensitive flesh at my throat, he’s testing me, waiting for me to tap out.
But I’m drunk off the feeling, off the heat unfurling deep in my belly, the wetness in my panties, the hardness pressing into my thigh that isdefinitelynot his belt buckle.
He toys with the edge of my skirt, drags his fingers up my thigh, his hot breath gusting over my neck, sending a shiver scuttering up my spine. “Say it, then, Grace.Beg for it.Tell me what you want. And maybe I’ll think aboutgiving it to you.”
I grit my teeth. Another way to push me to tap out. If I give in, maybe I get what I want. The product and cash I came searching for, or a naked Lincoln Decker on top of me with his hands around my throat. Regardless of what he’s offering, regardless of the way my body begs me to give in, I won’t take the bait.
“Fuck you.”
He laughs, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“In your dreams.”
“No, Gracie, in yours.” He releases me and takes a step back.
The sensation is like a goddamn ice bath. I gasp, taking a breath much too big for my oxygen-starved lungs.
He gives me his back, his head lowered, and shifts, like he’s adjusting himself. Then he does a full rotation, surveying hisbedroom, the destruction I caused. Taking in the clothes strewn all over the floor, the shredded pillows, the open boxes. I even pried up the heating vents. Maybe I went a little overboard, but I still plan to use that product and cash to barter for my life, regardless of how unlikely it is that move will play out in my favour.
I can’t keep this up. The running. The hiding. The shitty motels. Dirty truck stop bathrooms. I’m tired, desperate, and out of options. I need this to work. I need this mess cleaned up. So I need my shit back. Now.
Decker picks up the gun from the bed, and before I can even react, shoots the wall a few inches from my head.
I scream on instinct, my heart jumping into my throat.
He steadies the weapon on me next.
My stomach drops and my breath catches, adrenaline spiking in my veins as I frantically search for a way out of this. Arm outstretched, he advances. He only stops when the gun is pressed to my forehead. Gone is that hunger in his eyes. There’s nothing left but anger. Darkness. Violence.
Tears tickle at the back of my eyes. Holding my breath, I will them away. Then I raise my hands in surrender.
Only he doesn’t drop the gun.
Unable to keep the quiver from my voice, I say, “You won’t.”
“Fucking try me.”
“No, Linc. Iknowyou won’t.” My pulse hammers in my ears. “You’re… you’re still the good guy.”
He scoffs. “I’m not. Haven’t been for a very long time. The quicker you learn that, the easier this is gonna be for you.”
I believe him. By the tone of his voice, the cold expression.
He pushes the barrel harder into my forehead, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting.
Despite my best efforts to hold them back, those tears finally escape. They run down my face and drip down my neck, but I don’t look at him. I won’t.
The cold metal of the gun slides over my skin to my cheek. A footstep. The warmth of his body seeping into mine. He cups my face, using a thumb to wipe my tears. For a moment, it feels almost… tender. Lips close, his breath heating the side of my face.
He lets out a deep sigh. Then, in a far too calm voice, says, “Open your eyes.”
