Page 23 of Unhinged Cravings
My hand fell, my fingers digging into her soft hair. With a handful in my grasp, I pulled, forcing her head back further and enjoying her sexy exhale entirely too much.
“I should.” Tired of restraining my urges, I released her wrist and scooped her up, throwing her over my shoulder.
Her shriek was rewarding, and I chuckled as I walked past the stairs and further down the hall.
“Wait. Where are you going?” Worry edged her voice, feeding the ruthless part of me.
“You chose not to go up the stairs, so I changed my mind.”
Tension left her body rigid. “But you can’t do that.”
I opened the door to the basement, saying, “I can do anything I want. I’m your captor, Ava. Your jailer. Not some bartender at a wedding.” My mood turned further at the thought and the next one. “Did you even think about what he could have done to you? Running off with some strange guy you just met?”
She let out a laugh. “And I’m flirting with the man who held agun to my head two days ago and killed the men who took me. I don’t live my life like some sheltered schoolgirl. I like danger.”
Releasing my hold on her, I placed her back on her feet and studied her. The moment of fear was gone and the confident pain in my ass was back. The fear had reminded me she was here for one purpose. But this side of her was one I wanted to play with, to explore.
“Are you going to take me into your dungeon and lock me away?” There it was. A flitting of fear behind the façade of confidence.
Taking her elbow, I dragged her behind me down the first few stairs. The change in her was instant. She scratched and pulled to get free.
“Please, Emerson,” she begged, a sound I normally enjoyed from my victims but detested hearing from her.
Pausing my steps, I peered back at her. Terror lined every part of her features and a sudden need to erase it from her stalked through me.
“Please. I’ll stop flirting. I’ll stop talking back. Whatever it is you dislike, I’ll stop. Just don’t lock me down here.”
What had happened in three small steps to turn my wildcat into a broken, pleading woman? My wildcat? That was new.
I turned and took a step up. Darkness from the basement spilled around me, but the light from behind her splayed out to give her an angelic look. Light to my darkness. The contrast was stark. What was I thinking, letting myself get close to this woman who was so different from me? So full of life.
Terror still darkened her eyes, and I wanted to take it from her, to replace it with the vibrance they usually held.
“Don’t do any of those things,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise.”
I halted her words with a finger to her mouth.
“No, don’t stop any of it. There’s nothing I dislike.”
Taking her arm, I noticed how badly it was shaking. Herentire body was trembling at the thought of being locked down there. I brought her hand up, watching it quake.
“See,” I said. “You were wrong. I do frighten you.” Normally, that would have excited me, but not this time. Not with her.
“You don’t,” she said, her voice meek.
“Keep telling yourself that.” I turned her around. “Go, you’re not spending the night down here.”
She was up the stairs before I could contemplate the brief urge to smack her ass. Wiping my hand over my eyes, I again questioned how comfortable I was with this woman. As if I had known her my entire life and not just two days.
“Are you always this slow? How do you manage to kill anyone when you move like an old man?” The fear was gone, replaced by her usual sass.
I stalked out of the basement and slammed the door behind me. “Did you just call me old?”
Hands on her hips, she said, “Well, you are in your forties, right?”
“And how old are you that you think that’s old?” She was younger than me, but it wasn’t until she answered that I realized just how much younger.
