Page 18 of Prey

He doesn't speak. Just stands there with his back against the door, watching me. Waiting. I don't speak either. I look at him. The flush on his cheeks from the alcohol. The way his hair is falling across his forehead, messier than at work, less controlled.

"You're staring," he says. His voice is rougher than usual. Is it the whiskey? Or something else entirely?

"You're worth staring at."

He blinks. Like he didn't expect me to say that. What did you expect, Grey? That I'd pretend not to see you? That I'd let you keep hiding?

"You've been watching me all night," I continue. "From across the room. Through the crowd. Like you were trying to memorize me."

His jaw tightens. "I wasn't, "

"You were." I push off the counter. Take a step toward him. "You've been watching me for months, Grey. In the office. On the street. In my apartment."

He flinches. There it is. The crack I've been waiting for.

"You know," he whispers.

"I know everything."

He should run. Should turn around, open the door, disappear into the crowd. He doesn't. He stays. Pressed against the door like it's the only thing holding him upright.

"Why didn't you stop me?" he asks.

"Because I didn't want to."

I take another step. Close enough to touch him now. Close enough to feel the heat coming off his skin.

"You're looking at me," I say, "like you want to live in my skin."

His breath catches. He doesn't deny it. Doesn't look away. Doesn't do anything except want. God, look at him. Look at what you've done to him. Look at what he's done to you.

"Tell me I'm wrong," I say.

He shakes his head. Just barely. A movement so small anyone else would miss it.

Chapter 11

Cain

His eyes drop. To my mouth then to my throat. He's imagining it. Biting me, tasting me, marking me. I reach out, touch his face, the way I've wanted to do a hundred times before. He leans into my palm, like a cat, like he's been waiting for this his whole life.

"If I told you to get down on your knees for me," I say softly, "right here. In this bathroom, with anyone able to walk through that door..."

His eyes snap back to mine.

"I'd do it." The words come out before he can stop them.

"Like the desperate person you are."

A sound escapes his throat. A moan, small and breathless. His eyes widen, hand flies to his mouth like he didn’t know he could make that sound.

"On your knees, Grey."

He hesitates, eyes searching my face for mercy I won’t give. Or confirmation that this is real. I give him neither. I wait.

Then he sinks to his knees, slow, like his body remembers what it’s always wanted. The tile must be cold, he doesn't seem to notice or doesn’t care. He's looking up at me now, eyes dark, mouth parted, hands resting on his thighs like he's waiting for instruction.

"Look at you. You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this."