Page 111 of Villainous Rise

“I might bite you anyway,” she whispered against my skin. “If you ask nicely.”

My brain short-circuited. This wasn’t the Annie who’d been in my bed before, the Annie that was all fury and need. This wasn’t the woman who kept her mask firmly in place, physically and emotionally.

She settled against my chest, her body warm and pliant, fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin like she had all the time in the world. Like she belonged here. Like this was normal.

I’d run simulations for a thousand different scenarios with Annie, most ending with her storming out, some with her trying to kill me, a few with her grudgingly admitting she couldn’t stay away. None of them included this casual intimacy or playful affection.

My arms tightened around her, possessive and confused and unwilling to question whatever the fuck was happening. If Annie wanted to pretend we were normal, that I hadn’t betrayed her, that she didn’t hate me, I’d play along until reality reasserted itself.

A sharp electronic trill shattered the moment. My alarm. Fuck.

“Goddammit.” I reached over Annie to silence the offending device, my body momentarily caging hers beneath me. The position gave me ideas that my schedule wouldn’t accommodate. “Fucking interviews.”

Annie’s hands slid up my chest as I hovered above her. “Interviews?”

“About the match yesterday.” I didn’t move away, savoring the press of her body beneath mine for a few seconds longer. “PR bullshit. Contractual obligations. Can’t miss them.”

The reality of my situation fucking sucked. I hadn’t planned for Annie to stay. Hadn’t planned for her to be soft and warm and willing in my bed the morning after. The interviews had seemed like a reasonable commitment when I’d assumed she’d be gone before dawn in another hit-and-run encounter that left me with the ghost of her scent on my sheets and nothing more.

But now? With Annie looking up at me with those clear blue eyes, her hair spread across my pillow like she belonged there? The interviews were a fucking catastrophe.

If I left, the spell would break and she’d leave. Whatever strange magic had kept her in my bed, kept her touching me without anger, would evaporate the moment I stepped out of this room.

“What time are they?” Annie asked, her fingers trailing down to trace the tattoo lines that followed the cut of my hip.

“First one’s at eleven.” I caught her wandering hand, pressing it flat against my abdomen. “Stop that unless you want me to be very fucking late.”

She smiled. “Havoc has interviews today too.”

“Shocking. Almost like we were in the same match.”

She pinched my side, a quick flash of pain that made me grin. “He gave me the day off. Said he could handle the PR circus himself.”

“You have the day off?”

“The whole weekend, actually.” Annie stretched beneath me, her body arching in a way that made focusing on her words nearly impossible. “Havoc even made Alliance PR cancel all my Valor obligations for the weekend.”

My pulse quickened. “The whole weekend.”

“That’s what I said.” She tilted her head, studying my face.

My mind raced through my schedule like a tactical assessment. Interview at eleven. Press conference at one. Meeting with the Syndicate at three to discuss yesterday’s match. Each commitment locked in place.

Fuck.

I needed to be Cipher the Super Villain for most of the day. But Annie was here. In my bed. Willingly. Without a mask. Without hatred burning in her eyes.

The probability calculations shifted rapidly. If I asked her to stay, 68% chance she’d refuse. If I demanded she be here when I returned, 94% chance she’d run just to spite me. If I said nothing, 100% chance she’d be gone.

A smile spread across Annie’s face, slow and knowing.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“For once, I know what you’re thinking and not the other way around.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “Is that right? And what am I thinking, Sparks?”

Her smile widened. “I know that look,” she said, tapping her finger against the furrow between my brows. “Weighing variables. Calculating risks. Wondering what I’ll do if you tell me to stay.”