Page 60 of Hunted By Valentine

“It’s almost February,” I say conversationally.

“Indeed.” Eve doesn’t give me more than one word to work with, letting me know she isn’t going to run the show for me.

“Do you remember the target I told you about during our last session?”

She flicks the pages in her book, presumably going back to notes from our session on December thirtieth. “I do. Are you still following her?”

I smirk. “No, I don’t need to.”

“Oh?”

“She’s coming to me now that she’s a student in my Criminology 101 class.” I try to keep emotion out of my voice, but it’s hard. Not only because it awakens something warm inside my chest, but if I’m completely honest, I’m proud of the setup I’ve orchestrated.

“Now, Valentine, when you say she’s coming to you, what do you mean by that?” Eve asks curiously.

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and steeple my fingers together. “Ruby is starved for attention, something I picked up on while following her in December. I’ve played on that, and given her what she wanted.”

“How so?”

“At first it was through tests in my classroom.” I explain how I made everyone come in early just so Ruby would be late, and how I’ve given her extra attention as a reward when I felt like she’d earned it.

“So she’s your pet,” Eve summarizes when I’m done laying it all out for her. “Have you ever had to punish her?”

A shiver of excitement runs down my spine at the thought. “No, I haven’t. She’s very obedient and predictable.”

Eve scribbles something in her notebook before looking back at me. “Do you want her to disobey you?”

I frown for a second as I mull the question over. “That’s a loaded question,” I say dryly. “If I wanted her to misbehave and she did, she’d be doing what I wanted and thus wouldn’t be misbehaving.”

Eve nods slowly. “Do you want to give me a real answer? One that doesn’t involve deflecting?”

Straightening, I hold her gaze. “That wasn’t deflecting, Eve,” I scoff.

“Yes it was,” she states, not letting my tone put her off. “If you had posed it as a question, it would be different. Actually, for anyone but you, it might be considered a musing. But you forget that I know you; that I know you just reasoned your way out of answering my question. That is the very definition of deflecting, Valentine.”

A low growl escapes me, making me hate how astute and brilliant she is. And, well, hate that I keep trying to play games with her when it’s literally a waste of time. “Fine,” I relent, leaning back and throwing my arms out to the side. “You want a real answer, Eve? I don’t want her to disobey me. I want to be so far underneath her skin that she can’t escape me. I want to live rent free in her head, be in the very marrow of her bones. I want her to want to please me. I want Ruby Simmons to want me.”

If Eve recognizes Ruby’s full name, she doesn’t let on. “In what way? Sexually?” she asks.

“I already know she wants me sexually,” I confess, not able to keep smugness out of my tone. “She proved that to me yesterday.”

This is the first time I purposefully withhold information from Eve. But something inside me balks at the thought of sharing every intimate encounter, every heated glance, every touch. No, she can have yesterday’s interaction. But the rest belongs to me and Ruby, no one else.

Eve barely blinks as I tell her about the trip to the courthouse, and how itmade me feel to walk among the very people who have sworn to uphold the law. It’s a rush like no other, one I savor even now as I explain it to Eve.

“Afterward I took my students to get a few drinks at a nearby bar where I cornered Ruby in the bathroom, and…” Trailing off, I swirl my hand in the air in a motion that’s meant to indicate things went further.

Not one to let me get away with anything she doesn’t agree on, Eve prompts, “And then?”

Sighing, I continue. “I fucked her against the bathroom wall, Dr. Mortis. Is that what you want to hear?”

“I want to hear anything you want to tell me, Valentine. But since we’re on the subject, we might as well stay here. Have you ever been intimate with one of your targets before?”

“No.”

She nods slowly. “You’re telling me details that you usually wouldn’t share. It’s unlike you. Do you want to be absolved? Or is it guilt that I see in your eyes?”

I narrow my eyes, my mind racing. Guilt? Absolution? “I don’t feel guilt,” I retort sharply.

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