Page 25 of Nowhere to Run

“We’ll go to your place,” he said, his tone casual yet commanding. “Give you a chance to clean up and put on something pretty for me.”

Unease prickled at my skin as I watched him stride up the path like he’d been here a million times before.

How had he found me so easily?

I clenched my jaw. “Fine,” I muttered, through gritted teeth.

I’d spend the night with him. There was no getting away… and maybe if I cooperated, he’d be gentler this time. Maybe… I’d feel his tongue again.

A small, traitorous smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. Maybe I could take that from him. Steal something for myself.Then make an excuse, get him to leave before he tried anything more.

But as we neared the door, he bent down, his breath warm against my ear. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby? You scheming something? Trying to figure out how to get rid of me?”

My stomach twisted.

I shook my head quickly, my gaze dropping to the ground.

His smirk deepened, like he’d already won.

I unlocked the door, exhaling softly as I stepped aside to let him in.

Without hesitation, he strode past me, heading straight for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping the cap off.

“Wow, help yourself I guess,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He took a slow sip, completely unfazed. “I’ll cook you dinner later.”

Like it was normal, like this was his place.

He moved to my cabinets, casually scanning for ingredients. Then his gaze landed on the bouquet, still wrapped, discarded on the table.

His jaw ticked. “You need to get these in water.”

Before I could reply, he grabbed a vase from the counter. With surprising care, he snipped the stems, arranging the flowers neatly. There was something almost… tender about it. For a moment, something inside me softened. My heart skipped as I watched him.

He glanced over, catching my gaze with a smirk.

I wiped the warmth from my face instantly, replacing it with a scowl.

“You know, it’s okay that you like me,” he murmured, stepping closer.

His hand brushed the small of my back, heat sparking where he touched. He stayed near, his breath warm against my skin as his hand slipped lower, squeezing my ass and pulling me toward his groin. He was hard. Again.

A slow exhale left him, his voice dropping. “Just because you’re my little slut doesn’t mean you have to hate me.”

I scowled, stepping back.

He laughed. Low and taunting.

Then his expression shifted—darker now, sharper. His voice snapped, a razor-edged command.

“Now go get cleaned up.”

I blinked, stiffening. “Are you kidding me?” I snapped, retreating toward the counter.

His smirk never wavered. “I want that body fresh as a daisy for me.”

My stomach flipped, my hands curling into fists.

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