Knox
She’s mine, she just doesn’t know it yet. In a way, it’s cute, watching her in that slinky red dress across the club, sitting in the shadows pretending she’s not studying my every move. It’s adorable that she’s not aware that I see her, and see what she’s doing, and know exactly what she’s up to.
It’s cute watching her watching me, thinking it’s her who’s the hunter, and me the prey. When the reality is, it couldn’t be more opposite.
She pushes her long, long blonde hair away from those baby-blue eyes and pouty fuck-me lips and takes a sip of her drink—a mojito, virgin.
…How appropriate.
It’s not a mystery how a girl her age is in a club like this. She’s not twenty-one, of course, but this is one of the most exclusive new nightclubs in Manhattan, and she’s fucking gorgeous. No shit she got in without an ID. She glances my way again, her eyes eager and inquisitive, and just like I have the other hundred or more times she’s done this over the last five nights, I casually and seamlessly avert my gaze.
I play the prey, like I’ve been doing all week with her. It’s a game, and it’s amusing to me, but like all games, it has an end. And this one’s end is coming soon. Tomorrow, actually. Tomorrow, she’ll make her move, and then I’ll make mine, and she’ll see just how pre-ordained this little game of seduction chess really is.
She thought this would be easy. She thought I would be easy. But it won’t be, and I’m not. She’s here, watching me, because she wants something. Because there’s something of mine she’s after, and tomorrow, she plans on coming for it, and taking it from me. A pretty, pretty little thief. Except, tomorrow, the thief becomes the thieved. The hunter becomes the hunted. And I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching her drum up her courage and steel her resolve over the last five nights as she’s watched me here, knowing how tomorrow is going to flip on her.
She thinks she’s playing me.
…She’s wrong.
Tomorrow, Simone Delphine is going to come for what she’s after. But first, she’s going to come for me. First, she’s going to understand how ensnared she already is. How hook, line, and sunk she already is. How mine she already is. The wait is almost unbearable, and the pulsing thickness growing harder and harder between my thighs makes me groan. The idea of waiting even another second to touch her, and claim her, and taste her is a marathon. Waiting another whole day an eternity.
But I’ve come this far, and come this close to having what’s mine, and I know I can wait one more damn night. One more night, before she’s all mine.
Come and play, little thief, I think to myself, raising my glass in a subtle toast her way while her gaze is averted for a moment.
Come and play, so I can play with YOU.