Page 272 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

She cocks her head to the side, a shocked expression settling into her features. “Wow,” she whispers.

I graze her lips with mine one more time. “Ditto,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips as I back away.

“Wait, that’s it?”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

“You seriously are going to just walk away afterthat?” she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air.

My smile fades. “You’ll see me again, Marchella. I have a nasty habit of turning up when people least expect me.”

And with that, I turn away from her shocked expression and jog toward the nearest exit.

I have a job to do.

CHAPTER8

MARCHELLA

My head is spinning so fast right now, the only way I can make sure I don’t land face-first in the dirt is to climb down the trunk of a tree so I can sit down to rehash the crazy, fucked-up events that just took place.

I went from chasing a stray to being stalked to thinking I was going to be murdered to being kissed senseless.

And now I’m alone again.

It all happened so quickly, I could convince myself that it was all part of my daydream fantasy loop.

But the heat pooling in my belly and between my legs is enough to convince me that he was not, in fact, a mirage. That gorgeous yet nameless man’s hands grazed my lust-filled body, his demanding fingers pressed into my flesh, his lips crushed against mine, and his devious tongue launched a delicious invasion on my mouth.

It really happened.

Then, without warning, things ended just as fast as they started.

But damn, it was intense and oddly, so…familiar.

Powerful.

Blissful.

And way too fleeting.

I press my fingertips to my temples, my skin prickling from the memory of his touch. I lean back against the rock, flinging a hand over my forehead, every cell in my body on high alert.

How am I supposed to just pick myself up and walk away like it never happened?

Because that’s exactly what he did.

He took off faster than a shot, phone call or not.

I should probably be second-guessing my actions, wondering why he mysteriously flitted into and out of my life twice in the past twenty-four hours, but the endorphins coursing through me just keep that stupid smile plastered across my face.

Like I don’t have a care in the world.

An alternate reality.

Maybe that’s why I don’t want to break the spell.

Maybe that’s why I subconsciously know that if I leave, it will shatter and I’ll be plunged back into my actual reality.

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