Page 16 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“I’m not done,” I tell her, even though there’s hardly anything left.

“I don’t care.” She makes a swipe for it, but I lean away. Her body collides with mine, and a sweet, musky feminine perfume slams into my nostrils. I stiffen at the warmth of her chest against my upper abdomen.

“You could ask nicely,” I say to her, my voice uneven as I finally catch her gaze for real. She immediately diverts her eyes and shoves off me.

Henry’s phone ringing explodes the tension, and in my peripheral, I see him slip out of the kitchen, greeting Lydia warmly. My heart skips a beat at the moment alone with his sister.

“Are you going to ask nicely now?” I urge her, holding the coffee cup out of her reach. “You shouldn’t be so rude to guests.”

Her jaw tenses, and as threatening as she is, she’s kind of adorable, too. “I don’t have to ask nicely for my own fucking cup.”

“I think you do,” I dare her, a blast of excitement pulsing through my core. “I don’t enjoy impolite hosts.”

She narrows her gaze. “I don’t enjoy stalker guests.”

I grin. “Shouldn’t have invited your brother then.”

“Fuck off.”

My cock stirs at her venom, aroused by the challenge—by the idea of forcing this woman to her knees, and making her beg for my forgiveness. My hands begin to sweat with need, and for a moment, I start to play with the idea of getting what I want, regardless of what Henry would think. The things I could do to her.

“Can I please just have the stupid fucking cup?” Cher’s voice cuts through the fantasy, and I frown as reality replaces my desires.

“Yeah, whatever.” I surrender, dropping my arm and holding it out for her.

She snags it from me, and then immediately turns to the trash can, stepping on the lever that lifts the lid, and chunking it inside.

My jaw drops. “You could just wash it?”

She slowly turns her head back to me, her expression insidiously dark and threatening. “I don’t want my lips on anything you’ve ever fucking touched, Hound.”

I curl my lip at the shit nickname her brother gave me. You bad, bad girl. However, as I open my mouth to spew something back at the derogatory remark, Henry’s reappearance in the kitchen stops me.

He raises his brow at the two of us. “You guys good?”

Cher breaks into a sickeningly sweet smile. “Yeah, just talking about how long you guys were planning on staying.”

“Yep,” I play right into it. “I told her we might be here a while. You said you wanted to take care of the hit, and then hang out and enjoy the city. It’ll give us a chance to bond—like one big happy family.”

Cher’s face flashes with what I think might be panic, but it dissipates quickly. “Oh really? You don’t think Lydia will want you to get home?”

Henry chuckles. “I think she’s going to join us when the trip is over, actually.”

I see the false excitement on his sister’s face. I see right through the façade she’s wearing, but it’s clear as fucking day that Henry doesn’t.

“That’ll be great,” Cher beams. “I can show Lydia my favorite spots around the city.”

Like back alleyways where you pick up ‘books?’

“I’d love to see some of those, too,” I say, keeping a chipper tone. “Henry’s planning a stake out tonight, maybe you could show me?”

She never looks at me. “I have to work.”

“Where at?” I ask, smiling.

Her jaw ticks. “Just a bar downtown.”

“Hmm.”

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