Page 76 of Hunt for You

“What? I wouldn’t do that. If I don’t like something I just leave—”

He edged up the narrow space between the rows of seats until he stood right at my knee, then he stared down his nose at me, his eyes piercing and intent, like he was examining me.

“One thing I don’t allow in here is lies, Bridget,” he said darkly. “There is freedom in truth—even dark truth. The world you’re living in doesn’t understand that. They’re so busy pushing everything under rugs, or into closets, or renaming it to make it more palatable and pretend it isn’t what it is… they never let themselves learn how much freedom comes from just admitting the truth.

Then he leaned down, one hand each on the arms of my chair, his eyes locked on mine, and his breath fluttering across my face.

He smelled like mint and smug-satisfaction.

“I understand the world, and I can play by the rules. But this ismy house.And here we don’t bullshit ourselves, or anyone else.”

I swallowed. “I wasn’t—”

“Your head is so chaotic you throw yourself into danger on purpose, then scream when the monster comes after you.”

“Are you the monster, Ronald?” I asked seriously, because there was still a part of me that wondered if he was Cain.

“Only if you need me to be,” he said, then smiled.

I should have rolled my eyes.

I should have made a joke about monster sex requiring multiple-peens, or some kind of tentacle that could knot inside me and pound me stomach-first.

I should have sneered and told him he wasn’t the first Dom I’d known and wouldn’t be the last, and his little tricks were intriguing, but not truly earth-shattering.

But I couldn’t make my voice work. And the fucker just stood there, all up in my space, and waited. And out ofnowhere,my skin began to itch.

“I’m going to leave now,” I said, suddenly deeplyuncomfortable.

He tipped his head. “Are you?

I nodded.

“Okay.”

He didn’t move. And neither did I.

And then he was smiling again. “Ask me, Bridget.”

“Ask you what?”

“Whatever secrets your clever little mind is trying to uncover. Ask me.”

Are you Cain?

Is this a set up?

What would you do to me if I said yes?

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I said hoarsely.

“Neither do I,” he said in a voice so deep I felt it in the soles of my shoes. “Ask your questions, Bridget.”

“I… Have we met before?”

“Not that I know of—not until the other night at the bar.”

“Were you the one who came at me in the hallway outside the bathroom?”

---