Page 63 of Ghosted

The kiss isn’t soft. It’s teeth and rain and anger, her mouth opening under mine like she’s still trying to win something even while she gives in. Good. I don’t want sweet from Alice. I want this. Her pissed off and fucking soaked. Her body pressed between me and the stone like she finally stopped pretending she didn’t come out here to find out what would happen.

My hands grip her hips, dragging her closer, pinning her between me and the cemetery wall. Rain slicks her jacket, her fishnets, the bare skin where her shirt is still pulled low from the chase. The tiny cut I left on the curve of her breast is smeared with rain now, red diluted against pale skin, but it’s still there.

Mine.

A little line that says she let me close enough to put it there.

I shove my hips harder into hers, letting her feel exactly how fucking hard I am for her.

Her breath catches.

“Fuck. That’s it,” I murmur against her ear. “Feel that?”

Alice goes still for half a second, nails digging into my shoulders like she’s trying to hold on and shove me off at the same time.

My mouth curves against her wet skin. “That’s what you do to me.”

“Jagger—”

“No.” My hand drags up her side, rough and possessive, stopping just beneath the cut. “You can glare at me all you want. You can call me insane. You can tell yourself this was a mistake when you’re back in your room pretending you don’t still feel me.” My thumb brushes just under the thin red mark. “But right now? You’re not pretending shit.”

Her eyes flash, sharp and furious, but her hands don’t let go.

That’s the part I like.

Alice doesn’t give in pretty. She fights it. Fights me. Fights herself harder than both, like if she keeps her mouth mean enough, it’ll cancel out everything her body already admitted.

I lean closer, my mouth brushing her jaw. “You wanted fear with a choice, ghost girl. You wanted me to chase you. You wanted to know what happened when I finally got my hands on you.”

Her breath catches.

“So now you’re going to find out.”

“Fuck you,” she whispers.

“Already working on it.”

She makes a broken little sound, half anger, half something else, and it goes straight through me.

I catch her chin when she tries to turn away.

“No hiding.” My thumb drags over her bottom lip. “You wanted the monster to look back, Alice. Now keep your eyes open and deal with him.”

Her lashes are soaked. Mouth swollen, and her body is pressed against mine like she forgot how to hate me properly.

I want to ruin every excuse she has left.

I want her walking back to her shitty little apartment, with my mark her across her tit, my cum dripping down her thighs, and my name stuck in her pretty little throat.

I want Johnny to look at her once and know he got there too late. I want him to smell me on her, to know that I’ve claimed every inch of her.

The thought makes my grip tighten and my cock ache.

Alice feels it. Her eyes flick over my face, sharp even through the rain, her back pressed hard against the cold stone.

Her breath catches. I like that sound too much. Every shaky inhale. Every pissed-off little gasp.

“Look at me,” I tell her. She glares, stubborn as hell, soaked hair stuck to her cheeks. “No hiding now. No camera or lens. No bullshit little project to stand behind.” I drag my thumb along her lower lip, forcing it open. “Just you and me, and all those bad choices you keep pretending you didn’t make on purpose.”