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From what I’ve learned about Burns, it’s probably a combination of all five—but mostly horny.
He’s not the only one. And I’m not sure what that says about me that I can be attracted to the dark cop who took me prisoner, but maybe if Mason Burns wasn’t as gorgeous as he was, I might stand a chance.
Coming home from work, I see that he didn’t change out of his uniform. Not completely, at least. As though he started to, then got distracted, his uniform shirt is open, his sculpted chest on display. It’s the first glimpse I’ve gotten of the man beneath the badge and… yeah.
I can’t help but stare. And why shouldn’t I? Everything I’ve learned about him since I woke up his personal prisoner says that he’s been stalking me, watching me, sneaking into my apartment while I was vulnerable and unaware… who knows what else he’s done? If I can get a little of my own back by objectifying him, I’m going to.
It would be so much easier if he was a troll. If he was unattractive, his outsides matching just how broken he is on the inside. But he’s not. He’s too handsome for his own good; worse, he knows it. He wields his deceptively charming smile as more of a weapon as his gun, and silly me, I fell for it.
So distracted by the peek of his chest he’s giving me, I didn’t notice that he’s carrying something with him until he lays it down on the cot, next to where I’m sitting on the edge. It’s a dry-cleaning bag attached to a hanger. I have no idea what could be inside of it, and I don’t get the chance to ask before Burns is looming right in front of me.
“Miss me, angel?”
“No.”
Crouching low, he grips my chin with his fingers. He uses just enough pressure so that it’s a pinch, but he doesn’t hurt me. He tilts my head back, a crooked smile on his lips. “You’re a fucking liar.” His tongue darts out, swiping over the height of my cheek. “But that means you missed me so I’ll let it pass. Especially because I missed you.”
Another pinch and my lips part. Burns takes advantage, swooping in and taking another claiming kiss. I haven’t brushed my teeth in days. It can’t taste good, but you wouldn’t know from the satisfied smirk tugging on his lips as he pulls back enough to look right into my eyes.
“I expect a kiss ‘hello’ whenever I finish a shift.” He lets go of my chin, though he doesn’t put any distance between us. In fact, he inches forward so that all I see, all I scent, all Iknowis Mason Burns. “Now be a good girl and kiss your cop.”
“But you… I just did.”
His eyes sparkle in amusement. Of course. If there’s one thing I learned so far, it’s that when he gets what he wants, Burns is in a good mood. When he doesn’t… I haven’t forgotten the way he lost his temper and shot the bullet-resistant cinder block walls.
“No. I kissed you. Now you kiss me.”
I don’t argue. If he thinks there’s a difference, fine. Besides, what was it he said to me this morning? One measly kiss?
I knew he would never stop at one. But if this is all he demands from me, I guess it could be worse. Especially since it isn’t long before Burns takes control over the second kiss. Still, I must’ve done something right because, as soon as he breaks the kiss, he finally releases me from the last cuff.
I immediately rub my wrist. It feels so good not to be wearing them anymore.
“Is this because I kissed you?” I have to know where we are in this little tit for tat we have going.
“No.”
Oh. “Then… why?”
He smirks, but doesn’t answer me. Instead, he grabs the dry-cleaning bag. “I have something for you.”
Unzipping it, he shakes off the covering, revealing—
“A dress?” I ask.
That’s what it is. A skimpy-looking red cocktail dress.
Burns nods. “I had to watch you go on a date with another man. It’s only fair that you make it up to me by being mine tonight.”
Mine…
“What… what do you mean by that?”
“It’s simple. We’re going to have dinner together. A real meal. I’ve got candles. Restaurant take-out from that Italian place by your apartment. Obviously, we can’t go out, but, make no mistake, you’re my date tonight.”
When I went out with Dean, I wore a simple sweater and my best pair of jeans. That’s nothing like the dress that Burns brought me. Other than that, my captor is recreating the last date I had before he “arrested” me. He even went to the trouble of ordering from Mamma Maria’s, and I bet you everything I have—which isn’t much—that, somehow, he got me the same meal I always eat when I splurge on a dinner there.
If so, it’s just another reminder that hedoesknow me. And I… I don’t know what to make of that at all.
