Page 162 of Bake the Town Red

“He tortures kids.” Talking about him makes my chest grow tight. My hand slides up to Dahlia’s throat, bringing her to me where I can nip the shell of her ear. “His niece and nephew.”

Dahlia stops breathing for a second. I feel the air lodging in her throat and lock my fingers on her delicate neck to catch her next inhale.

Mine. All of it is mine.

“I made them turn on each other.”Al’s character—who looks nothing like him—peeks his ugly head from behind one of the bookshelves.“Someday soon, they’ll eat each other’s flesh. I’ll have a ball witnessing it.”

Even though I was the one who wrote the repulsive dialogues, I’m no less disgusted by it.

“The fuck he will.” Dahlia’s fear quickly morphs into hate. She growls. The need to rip a man’s heart out is there. I almost come from how strong and ruthless the woman in my arms is. “I’ll snap his neck. It’shisflesh I’ll eat.”

Dahlia’s character breaks into a run.

I have to help her, unlike those times I tried and failed in real life. Have to be there in case he plays dirty. Which he will. I designed him to be the worst of them.

His true face will forever be out there. I made sure of that.

In the past, while the fucker was alive, he wore a charming smile and said sweet words to the social services. No one suspected.

Not anymore.

“Do it, baby.” I lift my hips while she hurls her character forward. While she turns to the right, chasing this version of her uncle. “Maim that piece of shit. Make him pay.”

“I will.” Dahlia is too invested in the game to stop when I shove her impossibly lower on my cock. She moans and clenches around me, but doesn’t let up. My pretty little huntress. “This is for Ian.”

“For Ian.” My arms envelop her middle, pinning her to me while I drive in and out of her ruthlessly. It’s for him, sure, except he’s not the one I think about. The one I’m fucking. “Jesus fuck, Dahlia, you’re soaking. Is it for me, or are you that excited about killing him?”

“You should already know.” She’s getting closer to him. “I’m wet in my sleep for you.”

I have to help. My hands clutch the game controller. My fingers click the buttons that would arm me with my weapon of choice—a butcher’s knife.

Her character keeps running through the bookshelves maze.

“Tyler,” she breathes my name. Calling me.

“What is it, beautiful?”

“You can—oh, no. I can’t hold it.” My cock hits the spot that has her moaning louder. “I’m coming.”

Dahlia’s body strains before another orgasm catches her by surprise. Her scream is delicious. Her body is a quivering mess.

We catch a glimpse of the bastard on the screen. I don’t go after him. I have her to take care of.

And she has a game to win.

“Don’t you dare stop.” I pull her tighter to me. “Keep playing. You’re going to kill him. Then you’re going to come on my cock another time.”

“I”—deep breath—“if you’d like, you can help me get my revenge.”

“Baby.” The invitation is as hot as having her orgasm soak me. As having her pussy clench around my dick. “I’m here for you. I’m never leaving.”

My character slides into place next to hers. My teeth—my real teeth—sink into my T-shirt Dahlia’s wearing. But it’s not enough. It’s not fucking cutting it for me.

Releasing the controller for a second is a necessity. I have to rip the T-shirt off her.

I’ll die if I don’t.

“We’re coming for you.” She growls one second, gasps the next when I tear the collar of her T-shirt. I rip it right down the middle. “You’re a dead man.”

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