Chapter 5

Dark hair, dark eyes, the kind of cheekbones people kill for, and a sensuous mouth—the man watches me like a lion stalks its prey. My blood picks up in a slow sizzle; it’s familiar, the burn, and I’m struck with an odd sense of déjà vu that makes a shiver pour down my spine.

Just like when I was in the Grand Theater’s foyer.

Was he there? Watching me?

“Who are you?” My voice betrays me with a wobble, but he doesn’t answer. He just drinks in his fill of me, that cocky little smile twisting his lips.

It’s not a pretty one—it’s one of darkness, savagery, sex. It’s the smile of a man who’d eat you alive and make you beg for more while he did it. I don’t know why, but the heat in his gaze paired with the smirk turns my legs liquid, and deep down, between my thighs, things tingle, so much so that I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. This man’s a stranger, a much older one. By at least ten years, if I were to guess.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low, like smoke and flame and just as unpredictable. “How much do you want to win?”

I suck in a breath. The answer to his question is obvious, but for some reason, I can’t form a sound, let alone the words he asked for. Instead, I stand there, gaping like a fish out of water.

“You said on stage that you wanted to win,” he goes on, taking a short step closer. “I want to know how much.”

“I-I’ll do anything,” I manage to eke out. I’m trembling under the heavy weight of his gaze; I need to find a way to settle my rapidly beating heart.

He raises a brow. “Anything?”

“Yes,” I say. “Anything.”

His smile slides a bit higher and a lot more wicked, and flame licks across my flesh.

“Prove it.” He crosses the room in two, large steps and seizes me by the back of the neck with one of his large hands. His touch is brutal, bruising, electric, and as I try to jump back, he overpowers me, easily dragging me into him as his mouth crashes against mine.

I stop thinking all together.

Like his cruel grip, his tongue spears past my lips without mercy, and the kiss melts into pure heat as he ravishes my mouth. He tastes like dark dreams, sex and honey, and I arch into him, my head tipping back to give him deeper access. I’m kissing him back, with hunger I didn’t know I had.

Hunger for him.

All common sense fades, and when his teeth nip at my bottom lip, a soft whimper escapes me.

Holy shit. Who is this man? What is he doing to me? I’m turning into a puddled mess from a single kiss from a stranger.

What am I doing?

Ripping my mouth from his, I push free. Half shocked, he releases me, and I almost tumble to the floor, my feet unsteady. The world shifts around me, under me, as my head spins and my mouth… my mouth isn’t mine anymore. Everything feels new, swollen, needy. My heart is beating a wild song and I gasp for breath, staring at him in shock.

There’s something glittering in his dark gaze, a whisper of shock, like the kiss surprised him, too. He blinks and it’s gone, his eyes steely once again, like he never touched me.

My head clears a little more, and with clarity comes anger and boldness. “When I said anything, I didn’t mean sleeping with someone.”

“I don’t want you to sleep with just anyone.” His voice is silky, curling at the edges.

Arm snaking around my back, he takes hold of me again to drag me against him. Being this close to him, I can see the dark lines of a tattoo fluttering across his neck, peeking out from under his collared shirt. His scent curls around me like a drug; it’s cigarettes and jasmine and earth, like sex in the afternoon.

Or, what I imagine sex in the afternoon is like, seeing that I’ve never done the deed.

His fingers whisper down the column of my throat, pushing my hair back as he kisses my neck. Soft, biting kisses that make me pant and burn and want to beg for more, and then his hands move lower, over the swell of my breast, down my ribcage to my waist, and then to my ass, where he pulls me tighter against him. To my own surprise, I don’t stop him, either.

My body molds against his, and I can feel the ridge of his cock in his pants. He’s hard, big, and it makes me throb. He bites down, slow and deliberate, on my jugular and I moan, grasping at him, pushing my throat into his mouth, like I’m some sort of willing sacrifice to a god.

“But some things… some things I’ll do,” I breathe.

Is that me? Oh, yes, yes it is, because now he’s pushed me back, just a little. He slips his hand up my thigh, along the slit on the side that only peeks out when I walk. He pushes up the slit and parts it, sliding his hand around to brush the lace of my panties, down low, between my thighs, where I’m burning for him the most.

I shudder.

“Some things?” he says against my ear. “Like let me feel you up and push my fingers into your hot, wet cunt? Force you to go down on your knees and take my cock deep into that sweet little mouth of yours? Let me fuck your throat and watch how your lips take me? Or let me taste you, part you with my fingers and tongue? Those kind of some things?”

The crudeness of his words barely registers. I swallow, dazed, every single part of me focused on his fingers strumming against my clit, his thumb toying with the edge of my panties at the same time. I try and find words, but they all slide away.

The fabric of my panties still separates us, but I’m so wound up, every brief tease of his finger has my body humming, begging for release. If he keeps playing with me, whispering dirty, naughty things, he may get me there without doing much at all.

Before I can reach that delicious high, he pulls his hand away, grabs my ass with rough hands, and claims my mouth once more in a searing, carnal kiss.

Oh, I want more. I wind around him, my arms around his neck and my leg hooked around his waist. I can feel the length of his hardened cock through the layers between us, and just thinking about unzipping his pants and fucking him right here, right now, has my mind spinning into oblivion.

Ready to give him everything, I kiss him back, matching his ferocity. A noise outside the door floats to my ears. Not just any noise: voices. They slip into my dazed brain, just as a violent crack and explosion of wood shattering tears me from the blissful kiss.

Before I can fully register what’s happening, my stranger spins me in his arms to face whoever’s come bursting through the door.

My heart plummets when I see that it’s Uncle Max, a gun in his hand. A gun pointed at the man now using me as a shield.