Page 4 of Silver Fox Puck

The unshakable rhythm of his breath.

It’s doing things to me.

Things I don’t have time for.

Things I don’t let happen.

A slow throb coils low and hot.

My pulse pounds—my body already answering a question I haven’t dared ask.

I want him.

It’s reckless.

Illogical.

And happening anyway.

I shift in my seat, subtly.

My gaze flicks back up.

He’s still watching me.

Unmoving. Unwavering.

That should snap me out of it.

I hate when men assume.

Hate when they pretend to know what I’m thinking before I even say a word

But he’s not assuming.

He’s just watching.

Still. Steady. Waiting.

Like he’ll accept whatever decision I make.

And somehow,thatis what seals it for me.

If I stood up and walked out, he wouldn’t chase me.

He’d let me go—

No protest.

And of course, that makes me want him even more.

I exhale slow, brushing my hair over one shoulder—playing at nonchalance and hoping it reads as seduction.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m being hunted.

By someone who doesn’t just want the chase—

But knows how to win it.

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