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She quickly typed out a message and hit send before she could stop herself.
Me: Mr. Caine. Thank you. I wish you well.
Before she could allow herself second thoughts, she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the doors to close. The panels slid shut. Her reflection stared back at her. Messy hair pulled back in a ponytail, an over-sized white t-shirt and a pair of black leggings that Amara had brought to her along with soft ballet flats. She held nothing but her phone and her wallet in her possession. Although she didn't have a plan on how she'd get to the airport if her car wasn't in the parking lot, she wasn't stressed. She'd planned on hot-wiring it. Maybe she could just walk far enough over the bridge to get a cab, but she didn't think her legs would cooperate much there.
Ignoring the tempestuous jolts in her stomach and her sweaty palms, she waited with bated breath as the doors finally opened and she exited into the empty parking lot, rows of cars standing eerily as two overhead lights lit the huge area.
She looked around for a few seconds and spotted Tristan Caine's muscular bike, her heart skipping for a second before she forced her eyes to move, seeing her car a few feet down to the left. She made her way towards it quietly.
She'd not taken more than two steps before the sound of a door bursting open shot through the silent lot like an errant bullet, piercing straight through her heart and making Morana grind to a halt as she jumped to look towards the door.
The stairwell door.
Framing a very large, very muscular, very infuriated Tristan Caine.
A half-naked Tristan Caine, much like he'd been when she'd come to
him last night, pinning her to the spot with those blue eyes.
A thrill shot down her spine, dread and terror and excitement washing over her in waves.
Adrenaline crashed through her system. Fight or flight. She knew she couldn't fight him right now, shouldn't fight him unless she wished to lose. Flight it was.
Without waiting for another beat, she turned on her heels and started running towards her car, not daring to even glance back to see if he was closing in. The blood rushed too loudly in her ears and her heaving breaths made it hard for her to listen to the sound of his footsteps but she didn't even stop to take a breath. She just kept running at full speed, giving it all she had. Her legs hurt from the sudden exertion, her heart beat madly to keep up but she ran like her life depended on it. It did.
Three cars down.
She was three cars down when two hard arms closed around her, pulling her flush against a warm, naked chest, stopping her in her tracks. She struggled wildly, her body wriggling against his to be set free, but the arms remained like bands around her, her head fitting under his jaw, her toes coming off the ground in her effort to jump away from him.
"Let me go!" she yelled at him, turning her head and biting down on his taut bicep, thrilling at inflicting that small injury on him.
She felt his chest rise sharply on an inhale against her back, his cock coming to life against her moving spine as he leaned down closer, putting his lips close to her ear, his whiskers brushing against the shell and sending heat straight to her core.
"You wish me well, do you?" he murmured softly, his lips almost touching her skin yet not, making her body ache for that touch. "Don't you know not to run away from predators, sweetheart? We like the hunt."
His words made her insides clench with a forbidden thrill even as she struggled against him, trying to escape while a part of her felt electrified.
"Unless you want me to lay you out right on that bloody car of yours and fuck you, stop moving."
Morana stilled, her breasts heaving against his arms as a small part of her told her to move her hips, daring him to carry out his threat.
No, this wasn't supposed to happen. Not again. Never again.
Swallowing down her confused emotions, she spoke quietly. "Let me go."
His nose nuzzled against her head, inhaling deeply. "I told you we have unfinished business."
"I don't care," she grit out, her teeth clenched against all the sensations overwhelming her inside and out.
There was a second of silence before he spoke.
"We've never lied to each other, Ms. Vitalio. Let's not start now," he murmured in that deep voice of his, the whiskey and sin rolling over her skin like a lover's caress, making her want to roll back her eyes and lean against him.
Her jaw clenched.
She turned her head again and bit him on that bicep. Again.
Before she could do more, he turned her around and pulled her flush against his body. Her heaving breasts pressed against his chest, his erection nudged against her belly, arms around her almost in the intimate hold of a lover rather than a foe. His magnificent blue eyes bore into hers with an intensity that both startled and somehow reassured her.
