Page 35 of Twisted Shot
“Don’t go,” he says, sensing her hesitation. His voice is low and rich, threaded with something playful enough to disarm. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Though something tells me you don’t scare easily.”
Mila lifts a brow, guarded. “You know nothing about me.”
“Of course I do, Daisy. I’ve been watching you all night.”
Her pulse ratchets up with a flicker of adrenaline. The nickname, his voice, the way he stands so perfectly still, like a predator waiting for the right moment. She tells herself to head back toward the house, toward music and light and normalcy. But her feet stay rooted, as if her body’s already made a different choice.
She shifts her weight, steadying herself.You’re fine. This is Jesse’s party. He must know Jesse.Still, the thought that she’s talking to a stranger in the dark needles at her.
“I didn’t see you inside,” she says, toying with the edge of her glove. “Who do you belong to?”
“You.” He steps closer. Not too close—but close enough thatshe can smell him, a clean, woodsy scent, that makes her lightheaded. “I belong to you, Daisy.”
She lets out a laugh that tastes more nervous than amused. “I don’t remember bringing a date. And the guy I came to see bailed.”
The firelight sharpens the cut of his jaw, gilding the edges of his mask. He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a velvet murmur.
“Then he’s a fool.”
Her stomach flips. The ache she’s been trying to ignore all night stirs low and insistent.
“Maybe he’s shy,” she says, but the bitterness is sharp in her throat. She doesn’t want to think about Theo right now.
“Can I be honest with you?” His voice is quieter now. It curls around her like fingers slipping beneath her hemline.
She tilts her head, keeping her smile cool even as heat licks under her skin. “God, no. Lie to me. That’s way more my speed.”
He stares at her for a moment—too long. Heat creeps up her neck, and she has to stop herself from shifting under the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look away.
“All right,” he says, voice rasping ever so slightly. “You’re not completely undoing me right now. I haven’t been watching you since the moment you walked into that house. And I definitely don’t want to slide my hands under that dress and find out exactly what you’re wearing beneath it.”
Okay. Bold.
Her mouth curves, dry humor the only shield she’s got. “Do you always come on this strong, or just with women you corner in the dark?”
“Only the ones who make me forget my name.”
Her pulse stutters, tripping over itself. She leans in. “And what should I call you then?”
He smiles but doesn’t answer. His lips—soft, full, obscenely tempting—give away nothing.
“Fine,” she says, playing along. “I usually go for guys who don’t hide their faces.”
His mouth curves slightly. “Then I’ll have to make it worth your while.”
The air between them thickens, humming with possibility. She should tug the mask off, kill the mystery, break the spell. That would be the smart move.
But she doesn’t. Because there’s a part of her—loud, unruly, starved for something uncomplicated—that likes this. Likes that she can flirt with this masked stranger without history crashing down around her. Likes the way his attention makes her feel desirable, coveted. For once, she’s notbracing for another disappointment, not twisting herself into knots to keep a man happy. She’s just a woman in the dark, making deliciously bad decisions.
“You should run along,” he says, softer now. “Back to the light. Before I pull you into the dark.”
He steps into her space now, chest brushing hers. She feels his body heat, radiating from beneath that suit, and the sheer size of him makes her head spin. He leans in, lips near her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
“Tell me to kiss you.”
A small, involuntary sound escapes her throat before she can stop it. Her body responds before her mind can throw up a wall. She straightens instinctively, a weak show of resistance, but she doesn’t back away.
“Say the words, Daisy.”
