Page 188 of Irreversible

Isaac takes a slow step backward, his eyes trailing over me from head to toe. “The things I want to do to you aren’t fit for an alley, Bee.”

I blink at him.

Temptation seizes me.

My gaze flicks south, and I catch sight of the giant bulge in his jeans. Swallowing, I slide my focus back up until our eyes meet.

His are sparkling with promise. Mine are rebelliously curious.

I part my lips to speak, but he beats me to it.

“Room 217.”

Then he turns, fading into the shadows of the alley. The echo of his footsteps bounce off the brick walls, leaving me in a charged silence.

I’m left standing there, heart racing, torn between the thrill of chasing him into the unknown and the instinct to retreat into the safety of the night.

But as he disappears, I steel myself and release a long breath.

I refuse to follow him into the dark.

44

With one eye on my laptop and my phone in hand, I pace the motel carpeting. Likely unchanged since the ‘80s, the once-turquoise tone has been stained, cleaned, and faded until it resembles dirty water. My accommodations are nowhere near five-star—hell, they’d be lucky to pull a solid three—but they’re convenient to my target, and that’s all I care about. In my line of work, I’ve seen worse.

So has she.

Movement triggers the security footage I’m monitoring, bringing my computer to life. An older unit, its picture is a grainy black and white, showing little more than the general shape of residents coming in and out. But I’d know this particular resident anywhere. I haven’t been able to stop thinking aboutthisresident for one goddamn second since I felt her under my hands in that pink room. Since she rode and writhed and came all over my cock.

I need more.

I watch Everly jiggle her key in the lock of the apartment complex and let herself inside, then I switch to my other feed and wait.

This image is clear and in full color, the camera brand-new and high-tech. While the one at the front door belongs to the complex, I placed my own in the hallway so I could keep an eye out for suspicious activity.

Setting my phone down, I take a drink from the bottle of water on the table and glance at the “No Smoking” sign on the desk, debating whether I really care.

The answer is no.

Pulling a cigarette from the pack next to the laptop, I hold it between my lips, too transfixed by the woman on the screen to bother lighting it.

Once she enters her apartment, my ability to monitor her is cut off.

Sort of.

I’d be slacking if I didn’t have other methods, but contrary to Tanner’s jokes, I’m not trying to invade her privacy—I’m just not comfortable leaving her alone. This motel around the corner from her complex is already farther away than I’d like.

She has my room number; the only thing to do is wait.

Will you come to me, Everly?

Needing a distraction, I spend the next hour catching up with the eyes I have in strategic places around the world. Before long, my phone pings, notifying me that my subject is on the move.

Opening the tracking app, I watch her dot leave the parking lot—on foot, because she refuses to drive anywhere her feet can reasonably carry her—and turn left on the corner at the end of the block.

A thrill shivers through my body.

She’s walking toward the motel. I knew she’d be too curious to resist.

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