Page 65 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“You’re staying here?” Cher’s surprise is etched into her expression as I lead her toward the entrance. Her eyes flicker back to the bar still banging on across the street. “Were you...”

“Yes, I was watching you—and will continue to.” I shrug my shoulders and guide her toward the elevator inside. “I’ll do whatever it takes to have you.”

She drops my hand as the doors slide shut. “Why? So you can piss off my brother? Did you just want to fuck me?” Her insecurities boil up, and the genuine way she wraps her arms around herself reminds me of a terrified child, determined to protect herself but unsure of how.

And I want to fucking annihilate whatever made her this way.

“I want you, Cher.” I reach for her, tugging her close to me. “All of you. I don’t want you so I can fuck you and piss off your brother. I want you, because you’re the most intriguing, broken, and beautiful woman I’ve ever fucking laid eyes on.”

“Okay.”

Okay?

The elevator chimes at the penthouse level, and I step out, nodding for her to follow. Maybe what I said wasn’t the right thing in her head, but it’s the truth. Well, that and she makes me feel seen—which is something I haven’t felt once in my entire life.

“The penthouse?” Cher questions, rocking onto her heels. “Interesting.”

“Yeah, I still enjoy the finer things in life occasionally.” I push the door in and let her enter first. “It’s a wreck. I had barely made it here before you decided to start messing with me.”

“Does it have a pet park?” Cher turns to me as she steps into the living room, her arms still wrapped around herself.

I shake my head. “I have no fucking clue. I’m sure there’s some sort of area for pets.”

“Maybe I can bring Cash?” She gives me this hopeful, sweet look, and I realize that she’s still being as genuine as before. She’s letting me in, one fucking toe at a time.

“Sure. You can bring Cash.” I don’t bother to mention what kind of reaction that’ll get from Henry. It’s not worth the risk of regression. “You can bring whatever you want.”

She nods, but as she does, her teeth begin to chatter, and eyes grow wet. Oh shit. Oh shit. What did I do? I go to her, pulling her into my arms. She melts into me, and I wish more than ever I knew what the fuck was going through her head. I can feel tears soaking my shirt, and her body shaking.

And I can only guess I fucked up in the alley.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “Maybe I should’ve forewarned you about my way of doing things.”

She stills, looking up at me. “What?”

I wipe the tears from her cheeks. “What happened in the alley. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done you—”

“No,” she cuts me off, laughing. “It was just what I needed.”

“Noted,” I mutter, my dick loving that idea. “I’ll make sure to pull you in every alley we pass. I’ve got years to make up for.”

She shakes her head, composing herself so fucking fast it’s almost creepy—another reason why I know there’s more to her. Cher lets out a sigh, and then peruses around the apartment for the next ten minutes, letting me watch her.

“It’s nice,” she says as she stops in front of the glass windows. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the bedroom. I let her lead the way. In fact, I’ll always give her the notion that she’s got control of this situation. She’s an equal, of course, but she will crawl to me, begging me to fuck her like an animal eventually.

And I now have no doubts she craves that, too.

“I’m so tired,” she mutters as she dims the light of the luxurious master bedroom. It’s bigger than my NYC studio apartment, though the strange Vegas décor is a little much for me. No one needs flashing neon signs in their bedroom.

But it’s whatever.

“Here.” I reach for the bottom of her shirt, and she stiffens as I tug it upward.

“I can do it.” She swats my hand away, venom in her voice suddenly. “I don’t need you to take my clothes off.”

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