Page 130 of Into Pitch

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say, even as my feet carry me closer.

“I know,” she sighs. “I didn’t come because I should though.”

She slides off the counter before I can reach her, nice and slow. Landing directly in my space exactly where she belongs. I inhale her perfume, the edges tinged with just a touch of paint.

“You left me in my office,” I murmur.

“I did do that.”

“But you did come back,” I hum, really trying to keep my eyes on her face.

“Yes.”

The space between us feels electrically thin as I lift my hands, not touching her yet but close enough that I feel the absence of it like pressure.

“I talked to Imogen and told her everything. And I thought about it and about you. About us and how fucked up this is.”

She slides her hands up my chest and the things it does to me would be damn near embarrassing if the lingerie didn’t suggest she would take care of it here shortly.

“And I realized I don’t want safe. I just want you.” She sighs and wraps her fist around my tie. My jaw tightens as she tugs me toward one of the chairs in the corner, shoving me down to sit. My brow arches as she slides down to straddle my lap.

“I don’t want a life that looks good from the outside. I want one that feels real on the inside—even if it’s dark and it scares me.” She murmurs and begins to loosen my tie.

“And I don’t love you because you’re broken. I love you because you see me and you don’t ask me to be smaller for it.” The tie ends up god only knows where, the floor I’m assuming. Her tricky fingers working the buttons on my shirt.

“I’ll marry you,” she adds, voice firm. “Not because I’m trapped or because I’m afraid you’ll come after me if I don’t.”

The buttons give way and I push forward, letting her tug the shirt from my pants and off my shoulders. The fabric peeling away before her hands explore down my chest to the buckle on my slacks.

“Say it again,” I murmur as the belt comes free, the leather hissing through the loops.

“Which part?” She taunts and pops the buttons on my slacks.

“Both preferred,” I groan as her hand dips within, wrapping around my cock. Pulling me free before she lifts up onto her knees. I don’t let her do all the work, my finger hooking in the lace of her underwear to tug aside.

She grins and slowly sinks down, taking inch after inch and robbing me of my brain cells for a short moment.

Fucking hell, she’s tight and hot. Like velvet as she wraps around me and sinks until she is flush.

“I love you and I will marry you,” She whispers against my mouth.

“Perfect. Now say it again, but scream it.” I growl and pounce.

Our world narrows to heat and breath and the certainty that whatever comes next.

We chose it.

Pitch breathes as it always has.

This time we’re in an abandoned hospital that is just as eerily crafted as every other event we’ve been to since the first.

A year ago, I walked into this place trembling in lace and detail. Tonight, I walk in steady and in complete control.

Alex and I enter together through the side entrance reserved for the staff. And I smile up at him beneath my mask as I weave our fingers together. It’s a strange couples activity, but it’s ours.

Three days after I broke into his apartment we eloped in Vegas. So cliche of us, but there was neon chapels and cheap flowers. The whole nine yards. Imogen even came as witness, arms crossed and eyes sharp, daring him to give her a single reason to drag him away from me.

He didn’t give her a reason. Not that I honestly thought he would. Now, if she knew about what we do at Pitch? What I do at Pitch? She might lose her fucking mind.