Page 151 of Cursed Lifeline

Peaceful eyes gently hold mine.

Every timid glance from them feels like a sensual touch.

She smiles.

It’s warm and inviting, tying me to a hopeful thread of something I’ve never been lucky enough to grasp before.

Home.

“Hello,” she softly greets me.

“Hello,” I awkwardly grin.

Overcome by her presence, I suddenly rejoin the land of the lost the moment she steps out of my embrace and the warmth of her skin leaves mine.

“Sorry,” she blushes. “I thought you were someone else.”

Did she really though?

My mind warns she’s not telling the truth.

Speechless, I take in her curves, her lean physique, her shapely thighs, small waist, mouthwatering tits and groan.

“I’m sorry?” she says, thinking I’ve said something when I haven’t.

After a moment, when I still haven’t responded, she asks, “Do you come here often?”

On instinct, I answer, “Only when I know you’ll be waiting for me.”

My response is met with a demure smile. A blush creeps across her charming face as she bashfully lowers her gaze.

Clearing my throat, I step forward and ask, “What is a breathtaking creature like you doing in the tunnels below Las Vegas?”

“I heard there was a fight,” she grins. “A bloody brawl I don’t intend to miss.”

My conscience warns me to pay attention to her words, but her light caramel eyes and long coffee-brown hair pull me in and have me teasing, “You like a fight, sweetie?”

I drown in the buttery, rich, toasted color of her stare as she smirks, “Depends on who I am fighting.”

Fuck, women like her don’t just drop out of thin air. There has to be a catch.

“Well,” I taunt, “Lucky for you, you’re talking to the man who rigs the fights you seek.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Can I show you where it’s taking place?” I ask, slightly nervous she might turn me down.

Because damn it, I want to know everything about her.

Where she came from.

How I can keep her.

“Sure,” she smirks. “I’ll meet you ahead, just give me a minute.”

She gestures over her shoulder like she needs to grab something.

A purse. A bag. A weapon she’d be smart to carry since she ventured into the tunnels alone.

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