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I'm not sure if my dad is worse or if he's just human. I haven't figured that part out yet. But I know he's not a saint. I know the world isn't black and white. There's good and evil and a whole lot of complicated shit in between.
I'm still trying to figure out which my father is.
The doors of an elevator slide open.
"It's not too late to change your mind." Coda's dark voice says he thinks I should.
"I'm not changing my mind."
His sinful smile says he's glad I didn't as he places his hand on the small of my back, helping me onto the elevator. The weight of his hand sends jolts of electricity shooting straight to my core. Every time he touches me, I feel the same magnetic pull, the same overwhelming crush of desire.
God. It's incredible.
The doors whisper closed, shrouding us in silence again. There isn't even any elevator music.
He jabs the button for the 30th floor. As soon as he does, the elevator lurches into life, a slight tremor shaking the mirrored walls.
I see us there, our bodies in startling juxtaposition—black suit against scarlet dress, dark enigma against innocent sunflower. We're opposite poles of the same burning desire.
He spins toward me suddenly, like a predator snapping his attention onto prey. Except…I want to be hunted. I want to be consumed.
God, yes.
My heart hammers as he grips my waist, hoisting me up until I'm flush against the smooth chrome wall. Trapped between it and his hard body.
His mouth descends on mine. His kiss is an indisputable claim, a ruthless exploration that leaves me breathless and whimpering for more. It's demanding yet gentle, an inferno that sears my lips and soothes the raw edges of the desire churning through me.
His hands roam over my curves, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch is the best of both worlds—possessive and reverential—as if he can't decide whether he wants to devour or worship me.
I've never even been kissed before tonight, and he's defying every expectation I've ever had. There's no way anyone else will ever measure up to this.
I gasp as he trails hot kisses down my throat, his teeth grazing against my flesh. Every touch sends shockwaves rippling through me.
"Please," I moan, grinding against him in search of relief. I need it. Desperately.
"Fuck." He releases me with a grunt, stepping away as if scorched. He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair, his stormy eyes sweeping over my flushed face.
"Coda…" I reach out for him, not ready to let him go yet.
He evades my touch, grabbing my wrist in a grip that makes my heart race. It's not tight enough to hurt. Just tight enough to let me know that he's in charge here.
"Don't," he murmurs, his voice husky and low.
"But…"
"I'm not fucking you up against the wall in an elevator, Karina," he growls, his voice laced with a rawness that pierces straight through me. "I won't allow anyone with a fucking badge to get their hands on footage of you begging for my cock."
I gulp audibly. I guess I didn't think about that.
Clearly, he did. His eyes glitter with jealousy—an unholy possessiveness that makes my soul tremble, not with fear but with longing. What would it feel like to belong to this man, not for a night but permanently? To be his in every way?
He's dangerous. I know this. Only an idiot looks at him and misses the impenetrable darkness swirling in his eyes like storm clouds. But I don't think he's a danger to me.
The elevator shudders to a stop.
Coda pulls me out into the hallway.
He's so quiet, cloaked in silence as if it's his natural state. It isn't mine, but I like the intensity of his silent presence. It soothes the innate need to ramble that usually pricks at me.
