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“Dishonesty and betrayal,” he tsks with a shake of his head, but a smirk on his lips.
“I think you like it.”
“I don’t…”
Turning his head away, his tongue licks the corner of his mouth as a way to cover the smirk.Too late, rook. I saw it.
“…dislike it.”
He used my admission as his own. We really are a match made in hell.
“I’m not going with you,” I tell him point-blank.
He returns his gaze to mine. “Yes, you are.”
Neither of us blink or speak, just stare at one another. He’s not backing down on this.
But I don’t want to either.
I need to lowerhisguard first, then escape.
“Why is gasoline the only scent in here?” I sniff him. “You don’t even smell like you.”
Reece gets up, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “What do you take me for?”
“A rookie.”
He chuckles as he returns to the front.
I let my body sag onto the leather seat. The more distance I can get between us the better.
Even if his full attention felt like being kissed by the warmest ray of sunshine on a dreary winter day.
“I’ve been in and out of your house, in and out of your bedroom, almost every night for two weeks now. So maybe…you’re just losing your touch.”
“Not while I was home. I would’ve known.”
I sit up, my feet screaming, my ankles weak, and my skin covered in goose bumps I don’t know one hundred percent are from my current state of undress. My bikini is the only real covering I have at this point. The robe is off my shoulders, the train gathered under my ass, the belt missing completely. Reece is sorely mistaken if he thinks this look won’t attract the wrong kind of attention—the kind that results in the cops getting called—anywhere we go.
Looking at me through the rearview mirror, he asks, “How’d I find you?”
“You followed me again?”
The only thing that moves is his head as he rotates it side to side.
I sift through my day, paying special attention to the afternoon and evening portions for anything that was out of the ordinary.
My suitcase. The vibrator I know I packed this morning was missing when I checked in. He must’ve put some kind of tracker in there when he took it out.
That doesn’t explain why he was in my house when I wasn’t.
“Why have you been breaking in?”
“To be close to you.”
God, that sounds as pathetic as I’ve felt all day. Why do I like it so much?
“Then why were you there today? To get back at me for…letting you go.”
