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My brain was not comprehending exactly what was going on and Mason didn’t give me another chance to ask. Instead he pulled me to the elevator that shot us up to his loft on the seventh floor.

Oh girl, what have you gotten yourself into?I wondered.

Mason unlocked the door to his loft and I knew the time to flee had passed. In fact the moment I’d spotted him on the street was the moment I should have went in the other direction. I didn’t know what was going on, but this was not the same Mason Zacharra that I’d come to know.

No, this seemed to almost be some one else entirely.

And they wanted to devour me like a homeless man who hadn’t had a meal in days.

My pussy quivered because we liked this bad idea.

ChapterThirteen

Mason

Ihadn’t been right since Italy. There had been nightmares plaguing me, terrible nightmares. Dreams where I’d been split in two by lightening. My Corsican personality, all the things that made me the ruthless killer that I was had become whole. He had become physical. Identical in every way to my own self, but faster, smarter.Darker.

Hewas hunting someone and whenhefound them, all I could do was stand there and watch as he found his victim and sliced their pretty little neck.

Nora.

She had been the victim.

Sometimes though, I’d dream she was on top of me her breasts swaying above me, her nipples chocolate kisses that needed to be suckled.

Just as I was on the verge of giving her an orgasm…

It would end, and I would awaken in a sheen of sweat, stumbling into the bathroom and watching as my vision cleared and as things returned to normal.

I thought everything was fine. I thought I wouldn’t see Nora again for a while despite us both working for Sebastian. She was a part of his corporate life and I was in the shadows protecting and running security. Then Matteo had suggested going out to, “Just grab a beer.”

I could have burned the fucking bar down when I spotted her dressed up pretty as picture ordering a shot. Her out and about in Seattle without me at her side…for some reason I was bothered big time.

“I love your loft,” Nora’s voice cut through my thoughts as I poured bourbon down my throat.

“I didn’t bring you here to admire the woodwork in my home,” I growled stalking over, the bottle dangling between my fingers.

Nora was tense and not just because I think she was starting to realize my Corsican had slipped into control for most of our dance.

She smirked. “What woodwork am I here to look at then?”

Shaking my head, I avoided her question and held up the bottle. “Drink?”

“No glasses?”

I shrugged. “Darlin, I’m about to put my tongue all over your body. Drinking after each other should be the least of your concerns.”

Nora closed her pretty brown eyes that had a speck of orange in them and pushed out a breath. “Fuck it!”

She snatched the bottle and studied it for a moment and then turned it up. My body trembled watching her drink twenty-year-old aged bourbon like a champ.

My Corsican liked it too.

“Okay killer,” I took the bottle before she tried to drain it.

“That is good,” she smiled and then twirled away her hair flouncing.

Her hair was curled now, tight ringlets that she’d probably spent huge amounts of time this morning curling with a hot iron, staring at her reflection while she mentally went over her and Sebastian’s day.

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