Page 72 of Prey

I squeezed her side a little for the comment, and she jostled beside me.

“Hey, stop it.”

My hand glided away from her side and toward her stomach. I rubbed my cum into her skin, and she watched me with dark, stormy eyes.

“You didn’t call the cops,” I said.

“Still thinking about it,” came her smart retort.

I shook my head, letting my hand come down, and cupped her cunt.

“Or your dad.”

“Roman, please stop talking about my dad while you’re touching my pussy.”

I let out a choked laugh at that. “Fine. Let’s talk about something else.”

I gently swirled the pad of my finger around her clit.

She held her breath for two long seconds before letting it out. “If you want me to concentrate, you’re going to have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” I asked, taking on an innocent expression.

She rolled her eyes and wrapped her hand around my wrist. She didn’t pull me away. Instead, her hips were gently moving up and down against my hand.

“You’re mine, yeah?”

She licked her lips and looked me in the eye. I squeezed her cunt, wanting an answer.

“I’m yours,” she agreed.

And we both fucking knew what that meant.

She was mine in all ways, and there was no fucking way she would be the reason I would go back to prison a second time.

She wouldn’t call the fucking cops or her bastard dad or whoever the fuck she would call in situations like this.

She was mine, and that was all there was to it.

12

RYLEIGH

Roman spentthe night with me, but early in the morning, he got up.

Something was going on with the club. Something he didn’t want me to know, and a part of me was actually grateful.

What would I have done if he had told me something about the club and Dad had shown up at my apartment?

I already decided not to tell anyone about my little “trip”.

What would I say about that anyhow?

That I was in love with my fucking stalker?

Yeah, that was a no-go.

I got up with Roman when he did and watched with some surprise when he went into my walk-in closet to get ready.

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