Page 55 of Killer Confections
I grab her wrist, kissing her palm before tucking it back around her. “Have you eaten?”
“Hmm?”
I press a kiss to her temple, moving her hair behind her ear. “Get some sleep. I’ll make something for you.”
“Get out of my house,” she mumbles.
I laugh, “Not a chance, baby.”
“I’m calling the police…”
“Do you remember what happened the last time you called them?” I ask, my amusement evident.
She groans before turning towards me. Her eyes size up my face before she lifts a hand, curling her fingers under theneckline of my mask.
I should stop her.
But for some reason, I can’t bring myself to do it. I watch her as she lifts the end, stopping when she gets to the middle of my now-exposed neck. Her eyes saucer, growing to twice their size as she takes in the pink ink near the base.
“What the fuck,” she breathes in disbelief as her gaze flickers over the curling, delicate scrawl inked into my skin. She releases the mask as if it’s burned her, scooting away from me. “You have my name tattooed on you! Why?”
I shrug, “I’ve waited a long time for you.”
Her eyes bounce between my face and neck, like she’s unable to process the tattoo I’ve had since I was eighteen. I originally wanted it above my eyebrow, but Rowan talked me out of it. He knew dad was going to beat me senseless for getting someone’s name tattooed on me, but he was more worried about my cover being blown during missions. For the sake of my job, I settled on my neck. But it was the first one I got, and I’ve always been proud of it. The artist did a great job capturing Short Stack’s personality in the gentle curvature of the letters, and the pink ink was my personal touch.
Loxley lowers herself to the bed, tucking an arm under the pillow as she pulls the covers up to her neck. “I can’t… this is too much.”
I turn my head. “Going to sleep won’t make it go away.”
She shoots me a scowl. “No, but it may make you go away.”
I throw my head back, letting out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Nothing is making me go away, baby. I’ll make you something to eat when you wake up.”
“Get out of my house,” she closes her eyes, snuggling into the blankets. “And take those damn cameras with you. Stop stalking me while you’re at it.”
I lean over, kissing her cheek. “Nope.”
She swats a hand at me, but misses. She doesn’t argue as I stand from the bed and lumber to her kitchen.
Chapter Nineteen
Loxley
As soon as I open my eyes, my heart sinks. I sit up quickly; the covers falling to my naked waist as I take in my surroundings. The sun is just rising, little streams of morning light seeping through my sheer curtains and casting rays on the floor.
I listen for movement from my living room. When I feel the coast is clear, I cautiously slink out of bed. The floor is cold on my bare feet and my whole body aches.
My ass is the most noticeable, throbbing from the new, fresh handprint bruises inflicted last night. I reach a hand back, wincing as my face screws up at the slightest pressure from my fingers. My scalp is tender from the hair-pulling and my thighs have a deep soreness around the crooks from the restraints.
Then, the processing I couldn’t do last night, slams into me with full force.
My stalker destroyed Chance’s car and brought me back home.
He tied me up and fucking edged me until I was sobbing and begging for it to end.
He forced me to give him a blow job.
I shift in place, remembering the massive beast I could barely wrap my lips around. It should be illegal for a penis to be that big.
