Page 88 of They Are Mine

I swallow slow.

Watch her.

Wonder if she actually knows what she’s doing to me.

Or if this is just who she is.

Soft. Sweet. Dangerous.

I should walk away.

I should end this right here.

Instead, I take the rest of the cupcake from her hand, peel another bite free and feed it to her.

Her lips part in surprise, but she lets me do it.

And when she closes her mouth around the bite, when her tongue just barely brushes the tip of my finger?

It’s over.

I want her.

And I’m gonna ruin her.

“How long is your yoga class?” I ask.

I shouldn’t.

I should not be doing this.

But this girl, fuck, this girl.

She’s looking at me like I matter. Like I’m interesting. Like I’m not just some guy with broad shoulders and a security badge.

Like she picked me.

She tilts her head, fingers still sticky from the cupcake she fed me. Fed me.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Depends why you’re asking.”

Oh.

Oh, she’s fucking dangerous.

She knows.

And she likes it.

“You want to get out of here?” I ask.

I should not be doing this. I know better.

Already got one nutjob on my hands, and now I’m really about to…

“Yes,” she says.

Yes.

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