Page 157 of Bake the Town Red

My woman’s response arrives less than a minute later.

Dahlia:Can’t wait to go hunting together, Cyfrin.

Me:Only if you’ve been good. Did you pick the lock on the chastity belt?

Her next response takes a little longer to arrive.

Although I hate waiting, Dahlia makes it worth my while. She sends me a picture of her holding her dress up. With her tights pushed down her legs, I see her sweet cunt locked tight in the chastity belt.

Me:Such a good girl. Yes, we can go hunting together.

Her:You can call me Watcher1988, CT.

My mouth gapes. Closes. Curves up in a smirk.

It doesn’t make sense that she’d be the reader who demands I catch her the most. And yet when it comes to Dahlia, it makes all the sense in the world.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Tyler

“I’m not over how you’re Watcher1988.” Not too many things in life can surprise me anymore. This did. This still does. “You were practically begging me to catch you.”

It’s late at night. Dahlia and I sit in our dimly lit living room. The glow coming from the one floor lamp is enough. Fuck, that’s more than enough.

It’s everything.

Because when I see Dahlia, I don’t need anything else. She’s beautiful with her head in my lap, wearing one of my black T-shirts and nothing else. Her hair is damp from the shower we just had together. Still smells of the shampoo I lathered into her long blonde locks.

Her arms are raised between us as she lets me massage her fingers.

Most people need foot massages. Most people don’t kill, skin, chop off the flesh and break the bones of twenty-six other people for a few weeks straight.

That’s a lot of work for ten small fingers. Even if they’re skilled ones. Even if I’ve been helping her ever since what’s-her-face—the one who used to be my neighbor. Dahlia is stubborn and diligent and a perfectionist.

She needs that massage.

She needs me.

Mine.

“Aren’t we supposed to be catching Johnathan instead of discussing my secret identity?” She uses the sweet voice her targets hear before she murders them.

“He’ll wait.”

It’s been two days since I found out who he is. Two days that both Dahlia and I sensed we were being watched.

In a way, we like it. Both of us. But tomorrow it ends. All of it.

Tomorrow, we’ll have a plan set in motion.

“I want to talk about you.” I grow hard beneath her. “You’ve been sneaky.”

“Always am.”

“True.” The way I massage her wrists and stroke her fingers can be categorized as harsh. I prefer the term possessive. “And you’re going to explain yourself to me.”

“You should’ve realized it on your own. Duh.” Her large blue eyes stare up at me. Shameless as ever. “I’d been baiting you. I always knew you’d be back to me; I just hadn’t realized you’d besoslow. Or that I’d losemy patience.”

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