Page 56 of Hateful Games

My voice falters when he shifts closer, then bends forward to quickly unlock the torture device. A rich and woodsy scent that’s uniquely Nova wraps around in the small space between our bodies, distracting me.

Instead of letting my wrist go, he gently massages the inner side where the cuff bit into my skin, now slightly pink.

Almost absentmindedly.

At least, that’s what I choose to believe.

It’s probably an ingrained habit from fucking countless girls while cuffing them to his headboard. I don’t even touch the fact that I’m not scared he’s kinky in bed.

Worse, I’m intrigued.

I try to tug my hand free but he grips it steady, not letting go. Giving me a stern glare, he continues caressing softly until he’s satisfied, leaving tingling sensations in its wake.

“You sure?” I muse, finding my voice. “Because the way you keep manhandling, ordering, and picking my clothes screams so. I bet you loved the Barbie movie too. Tell me, did you wish you had a Ken of your own, chasing you around?”

“Irritating and insulting me won’t get you out of coming with me.”

I feign disappointment, slumping my shoulders exaggeratingly. At my deflated expression, he smirks. A split second later, it’s gone when I quickly grab his free wrist and handcuff it to the headboard. His arm snakes out to catch me when I jump from the bed, but I’m faster.

He should’ve been more careful about leaving the handcuff and its key beside me.

“Cuffing and locking you in here definitely will, though.”

“You little shit.”

“Element of surprise, Nova,” I tease, flicking my hair behind my shoulder. Juggling the key in my hand like he did before, I tsk, “Why do you keep forgetting?”

“Get. Back. Here.”

“Seriously, for an undefeated boxer, you have slow reflexes.” If he were a cartoon, smoke would be blowing out of his ears right about now. “Also, being such a smart man and an heir to a billion-dollar legacy, I don’t understand how you keep underestimating me. Should I warn my future father-in-law his son is more likely to run his multinational company into the ground?”

“You’re going to be so sorry when I get my hands on you, little hellion,” he utters like it’s a foregone conclusion.

“If you get your hands on me.”

Walking toward the other bedside drawer, I grab his phone. Every muscle in his body bulges and flexes in palpable tension as he silently glares at me, promising wicked retribution. I also collect the other necessary items, like my dress, makeup, and purse before fleeing the room.

Stopping at the threshold, I turn one last time. “Oh, and don’t bother screaming. The bedrooms are soundproof, in case you forgot.”

His heated gaze incinerates my skin in a single glance. Tilting his head, he mouths, “Run.”

I blow him a kiss and lock the door behind me.

Using the spare bathroom in the hall, which I’ve been utilizing during my stay, I quickly dress for today. The formal fitted black dress with a turtleneck cinches around my curves. I leave my hair hanging down my back, curling at the ends to add bounciness.

In the living room, I run into Malcolm, who’s on his way out. The expensive three-piece navy blue suit hugs his built frame, making him appear older like a refined gentleman. Something in the way he carries himself screams royalty and old money.

Despite hanging out a couple of times, he hasn’t shared any personal details about himself while trying to investigate mine. The man is as closed off as a brick wall.

“You clean up well, Malcolm.”

His impassive gaze gives me a once-over. “So do you, trouble.”

That damn nickname. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

“Where’s your fiancé?”

“He already left.”

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