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Her light huffs make me smile.

She turns to face me with an animated expression of joy—her beautiful alabaster skin now a canvas for cast-off blood splatter. She holds the drill in the air like a prize. The glint in her eyes warms something in my chest. She is beauty, rage, and chaos melded together in a perfect, destructively curvy body.

My marionette suddenly becomes non-existent as I’m trapped in the presence of her.

“Like that! See, it’s still clean-ish, but now, you have some character to it. I can’t wait to see what it looks like with the hinges through it.”

My eagerness is too hard to contain. I close the distance between us. Her eyes widen in sudden confusion. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my handkerchief and hand it to her.

“You have some blood on your face,” I say, fumbling through my words as I struggle with the last thread holding me back.

Placing the drill on the ground, she takes a step closer. Taking my handkerchief, she gently wipes her face, then holds the blood-smeared cloth out to me with a smirk.

“Better?”

The light catches her lips, and the thread holding me back snaps.

“Much.”

My hand flies into the tangles of her hair, pulling her into me. Our lips collide in a burst of electricity. Her fingers grip the front of my shirt, tugging me closer. The softness of her delicious lips sets my raw nerves on fire, each one tingling with need. Wrapping my arm around her waist, my fingers glide over her shirt, desperate to feel the softness of her skin beneath.

Our breaths quicken.

The feel of her breasts against my chest drives me closer. It’s not enough. Pressing my body to hers, I walk her back until we hit the railing of the bridge. If it could withstand the stress, I’d devour her where she stands, driven mad by the overwhelming need to be near her—with her, in her.

A rasp from her makes me break the kiss. Looking down, transfixed on her swollen, pouty lips, I try to steady my ragged breaths.

“Interesting,” she says, leaning back. Her eyes narrow, as if appraising me.

The expression makes me feel like a specimen under a microscope. Disoriented from the lust and longing still coursing through my body, my mind struggles to understand her thought process. I must be lightheaded. What is happening in that beautiful head of hers?

“What? What’s interesting?”

“That you can kiss like that.” She says shrugging her shoulders. “If you had kissed me like that a month ago, this would have been a lot more fun.” She looks back at me, her plump lips twisting into a smile.

The audacity of this woman knows no limits.

“Well, that might have happened if you hadn’t looked at me as though I was some kind of bug the very first time you set eyes on me.”

“I literally looked at you. That’s all I did. You were the one who glared at me. Do you not understand how to control your facial expressions?” She throws her arm to her chest. “If that’s your idea of opening yourself to conversation, we have bigger issues to discuss here. It explains a lot.” She says resting her hands on her hips.

“Deranged? That’s mighty rich coming from a woman still splattered with blood.”

She glances down at herself, then raises her hands, splaying her pink tipped fingers open in front of her as if checking a fresh manicure. Her lips swish from side to side before she shrugs her shoulders.

“You may be right.” She drops her hand. “But at least I know that I’m deranged, and I’m not stuck in denial.” She moves toward Dennis and pokes his leg with the toe of her shoe.

“I am not stuck in denial.”

Her head snaps up like a serpent poised to strike.

“Good. So, you admit you are deranged.” She closes the distance and jabs a finger into my chest with far too much vigor—a glint of crazy in her eyes has my cock jutting against the zipper of my pants. Jesus, I may be deranged.

“I am not deranged,” I bite out through gritted teeth.

“Shhh…shhh…shhh…” She raises her blood-stained fingers to my lips. “I know it’s difficult to understand, but most people don’t raise their voice while they’re creating a homicidal piece of art.” Her fingers rap against my cheek before pointing toward Dennis.

“I wouldn’t have to if you listened.”