Page 22 of Hard Game

I grit my teeth and grab a towel, tightening it around my chest before picking up my gun. Striding to the door, I peer through the peephole and almost fall over when a certain pair of hazel eyes stare back at me.

No fucking way.

My heart slams in my chest, and my fingers instinctively reach for the lock despite my brain’s lack of rational thoughts. The door swings open before my brain can engage, and there he is.

Maddox the Ghost. His hair falls in his eyes as he drinks me in, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip before he forces his gaze away from me. He checks around him and then walks forward, pushing me back into my apartment.

“Whoa there—” I say, pushing the barrel of my gun into his chest. “I didn’t invite you in.”

He stares down at me from his dizzying height, and I swallow. I’m not intimidated—not at all, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me want to shut up.

“You didn’t.” He tilts his head and allows his gaze to move down my body. “Yet here I am, interrupting bath time.”

I jab the gun further into his chest. “Why are you here? Who are you?” I don’t care how hot this fucker is—the fact he’s in my apartment uninvited is scary. I knew he was a criminal. How else does he know where I live?

Unless he followed you home.

What, and waited days before doing anything?

“Calm your pretty mind, my Little Fox.”

The fuck? Little Fox?

“I heard you were looking for me.”

My cheeks flood at his words, and I can’t help but gape at him. No one, not even Elijah, knew I’d researched this guy. No one.

So how does he know?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, releasing the safety from my gun.

His eyes track to the gun, and he sighs heavily. “Take your gun off my chest.”

“No,” I say. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re in my apartment.”

His eyes meet mine, and heat pools between my legs when he says huskily, “You were looking for me, Detective.”

“So?” I don’t deny it now—what’s the point?

“So, you must have wanted me for a reason. Here I am.” He holds his hands out at his sides, and his shirt strains against his chest, highlighting his broad body. His shirt is open at the collar, and I can see something silver shimmering there.

“Who are you?” I demand, tightening my hold on my gun.

“I’m not here to harm you, or you’d be dead already. Do murderers knock at the door nowadays?” He smiles, and I want to melt into his arms.

No.

“Answer my question.”

“Move your gun.”

Our eyes lock in a battle neither of us can win, but I relent and drop the gun to his stomach.

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “My name is Maddox.”

I move the gun a little lower so it’s just below his waistband.

His breath hitches ever so slightly.

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