Before I can respond, he turns me around. His hands come up to frame my face, thumb stroking my bottom lip. “Seeing my art on your skin... Knowing it’s there forever...” He shakes his head, the look on his face almost pained. “You have no idea what that does to me.”
“Me too.”
He groans, pressing his forehead against mine, sliding his hands down to my waist, carefully avoiding the fresh ink. “But tonight...” He blows out a breath. “I’m going to show you exactly what it does.”
A shiver runs through me at the promise in his voice. “Looking forward to it.”
“You better be.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips before stepping back. “Now. Let’s get you bandaged up.”
I hangout for a couple of hours, talking to Claire and Lizzy while Ryder takes care of his next appointment.
He follows me home on his motorcycle.
When we pull into the driveway, my skin is buzzing, and my mind is racing about how our game is going to play out tonight.
Ryder parks his motorcycle beside my car and dismounts. The way he moves with predatory grace makes my heart stutter.
I fumble with my keys at the front door, hyperaware of him standing behind me.
When I finally get the door open, Ryder pushes in from behind, closes the door and throws the deadbolt. “We need to establish some ground rules for this game of yours.”
“Okay.” Needing some distance between us, I quickly move across the room and turn to face him. Fuck, my heart is racing. “Just like any other time, I hide and you seek. You have ten minutes. If you find me in the allotted time, you get to make me do whatever you want. And if you don’t, then I get to make you do whatever I want—sexually speaking of course.”
Ryder’s eyes darken as he stalks toward me, his lips curving into a dangerous smile. “All right, kitten. I’m game. Let’s play.”
The intensity in his gaze sends heat rushing straight to my core. I take a step back. I already know where my hiding spot is going to be.
“I’ll count to sixty.” His voice is all heat and gravel. “Then… the game begins.”
I nod. “One rule though—no going outside. Everything’s fair game inside the house.”
“Deal.” Closing his eyes, he turns his back to me, shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to count. “One... two... three...”
Kicking off my shoes, I dart through the living room toward the stairs, careful to move as quietly as possible. My mind races as I consider the options. The cottage has several perfect hiding spots—places even Ryder, with all his tactical training, might not think to check.
“...twenty-five... twenty-six...”
When I reach the second floor, I pause, listening to him count.
The first hidden space that pops into my head is the one behind the bookcase in the guest room.
Nope, too predictable.
I head for the master bedroom instead.
“...forty-three... forty-four...”
I’m halfway across the room when I see my laptop sitting on the nightstand and suddenly get a crazy idea.
What if...?
Without thinking twice, I rush over, fingers trembling as I pull up a new document. If Ryder really did come from my imagination, maybe I still have some control over him. Maybe I can influence the game, make it even more exciting.
“fifty... fifty-one...”
I start typing frantically.
Ryder’s senses sharpen like a predator on the prowl, stealthy and dangerous. The thrill of the chase awakens something primal inside him—the need to hunt, to capture, to claim.
