Page 53 of The Bitterness of Venom

“Ah, it’s more like a bet. You win, you get something. I win, I get something,” he explains.

“Seems unfair. Seeing as we’re at a hockey arena and you play hockey.”

“I never said I played fair.”

I look over to him. “You never truly have.”

He steps to me, the space between us closing. “Is that a problem?”

I can’t breathe with him so close, the way his eyes dilate and heat up. His plush lips and his tattooed sleeve peeking out from under his hoodie. His hand comes up, and his thumb runs over my bottom lip as his face dips, nose touching mine.

“No,” I whisper. “I like that you take control.”

His lips lift in a smirk and our breaths mingle. “Is that what you want? Me to take all your control from you?”

I find myself nodding. Damn, I forgot how hypnotic he is. So fucking addictive they should list him as a narcotic.

His hands slip to my waist, his thumbs moving over the exposed skin at my naval. “You’re going to love this game then. I’m going to turn the lights off, and you’re going to hide. I’ll have five minutes to find you. If I do, I win. If I don’t, you win. You game, Freckles?”

Looking around the huge arena, I smirk. No fucking way will he find me. “Yeah, I’m game.”

His nose trails along the length of my nose and his lips fall to mine. “Time starts when the lights go out.” He bites my lower lip, dragging it between his teeth and releasing it with a pop.

I watch him walk away and immediately, my eyes fall to my surroundings. The benches are an easy guess. Yet, I’m not sure he can look through all of them in five minutes. The icewould be tricky, but I don’t know if I can even stay up without falling down and making any noise. But then my eyes land on the time-out box and my lip twitches. I trace the path to the box with my eyes just as the light goes out.

Quick and light on my feet, I hurry over in the direction I remember the box to be in. My hands glide over the glass, and I open a door that leads to the ice on my way. That way when I feel the latch to the penalty box—shocker, I know its real name—and I open it without closing it behind me, it won’t seem so out of place.

I run my hands across surfaces until I feel one that seems like a chair, then park my ass on it. Desmond doesn’t seem to want to hide his movements. He whistles lowly, and I can imagine his hands in his pockets as he casually strolls into the dark arena.

Psycho.

His steps are loud in the silent room. Echoing off the bare arena walls around us. Good news, it sounds like he’s going the opposite way, but that’s quickly proven wrong as the sound of his steps disappear altogether. My spine stiffens and I squint my eyes as if that will somehow give me the ability to see in the dark. I wish I could look at my phone to see how long I have left, but that will instantly give my location away. Instead, I stand quietly, walking to the glass and pressing my hands against it. It’s cool beneath my palms and helps alleviate some of the heat radiating from my overactive body. I rest my head against the glass, closing my eyes.

Every small noise makes me jump. I’m not sure if it’s real or my imagination at this point. The mind will eventually fill the blank space with something. The most horrific thing is how wet and turned on I am. Hiding while Desmond hunts me down like an animal in heat does something to me.

Heat spills into my stomach, the nape of my neck prickling with awareness.

“Good hiding spot, baby.” He runs his mouth over the nape of my neck. “But I can fucking smell you. Your cunt is leaking for me.” His hand moves to my pants, slowly unbuttoning them and undoing the zipper at the front. The timer goes off and he chuckles. “Time’s up, doll.” His hand sinks into my pants, gripping my soaking wet pussy. “I win.”

His teeth sink into the side of my neck, and I cry out. His finger rubs over my aching clit, sinking three digits into my pussy through my panties. “Tell me you don’t want me, Blaise.” He kisses the mutilated flesh on the back of my head, continuing his path to my left collarbone.

“I don’t want you,” I pant.

His free hand buries itself in my hair, angling my face toward his. “Beautiful liar,” he growls against my lips before taking them.

It’s like our first kiss all over again. Messy and uncontrolled. But this time, we take from one another. I slight metallic taste enters my mouth and I realize I bit him. But I can’t find it in me to feel bad about it.

He fucks me through my panties, pushing on my clit, and I chant his name into our kisses as he brings me to the brink—just to let go.

“No, please.” I whimper. I’m so riled up, I can’t think straight. “Please. Please.”

“Liars don’t get to come,” he whispers before kissing me lightly. He does my zipper back up, buttoning my pants and stepping back.

His hand finds mine and his is sticky with my arousal. “Let’s go.”

He navigates us through the dark arena, toward the exit, and every step is torturous. “Where are we going?” I whine.

“On a date. I won, and I want a date.”

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