Page 161 of House of Cards

Smith pulls the seat belt even tighter until I can hardly breathe.

And then he kisses me.

Rough, like his hands whenever he touches me.

Demanding utter submission, as always.

As soon as the shock wears off, so does my resistance.

I’ve been waiting for this since the moment he asked if I thought running from him was a good idea.

So worth the wait.

His lips are warm, strong, and move so masterfully against mine that I’m not sure if I’m kissing him back or just defending myself from the most glorious attack.

But as exceptional as a kisser he is, that’s not what makes me moan against his mouth.

I taste something else in our kiss. Apart from the hunger, the possession. Something that feels almost like need.

For once, I’m not just some toy for him to play with, but something he can’t lose.

Won’tlose.

God help me, I can’t stand to lose him either.

Smith

The Slice of Heaven diner looks diminutive compared to the picture accompanying the newspaper article. Without the contrast of the smoke captured in the photos, the blackened remains blend with the night sky.

Zoey looked like she was ready to leap out of the car as we pulled up to her mother’s diner, but now she’s just sitting in her seat, face ashen, eyes staring.

She’s obviously terrified, but her body tenses as she visibly steels herself for whatever’s coming.

…remember to dispose properly of your toy this time…

The thought should have been in Myles’s devil-may-care voice, but it’s mine.

Despite what I told her back in my room, I can’t just release her back into the wild. She’s seen too much. Knows too much. And as much as I’d like to believe the opposite, she won’t just forgive and forget.

This road trip of ours ends with me breaking Zoey.

Savagely.

Fatally.

“I’m coming with you,” I grate out.

Zoey doesn’t look at me, her words coming out in a fast, almost instinctive mumble. “I can handle this.”

“I wasn’t disputing that.”

She finally looks at me, confusion pulling her brows together as she scans my face. Wondering what my endgame is.

Christ, so am I.

An electric charge pulses through my lips when she drops her gaze to my mouth. Is she waiting for me to explain myself? Because, fuck, I wish I could.

“Fine.” Her frown deepens. “But none of your cocky alpha-male bullshit. This guy is a lunatic.”

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