Page 100 of When Death Whispers

The words hit the air before I can stop them.

His smirk falters.

Just for a second.

Then it shifts—slower this time. Darker. Deeper. His whole body stills, but it feels like the moment before lightning strikes.

“Say that again,” he says, voice rough.

I swallow. His breath is still warm against my ear.

A pause.

“Say it again, Parker.”

I grab the closest thing to me—a mixing spoon—and jam it into his chest. “Get to work, Carter.”

Instead of backing off like he’s enjoying every second of this.

“Iamyours, Parker. You don’t have to voice it out loud for me to know it.”

And as I try to pretend I didn’t just go all crazy girlfriend mode, I hear him murmur—just loud enough for me to catch?—

“But don’t worry, I’ll coax it out of you later. With my tongue.”

37

The second our shift ends,she tries to vanish into the break room like the moment never happened. Like kissing me, claiming me—saying it—was some kind of glitch in her system she can override with enough sarcasm and sugar.

But I don’t let her. I can’t.

I’ve never felt like I belonged to anyone, mattered to anyone. Not until her. Even with all the close calls, even with the lingering bruises and the bite mark still on my neck—reminders of the risks that come with staying close to Parker.

The way she openly took what she wanted and announced it like that… It’s fucking got me in a grip I can’t ignore. It ignites an inferno that could be caveman instincts or simply just full on lust… Fuck, it could be love too.

I never know which way is up with Parker and I don’t even care, so long as she’s willing to keep me in her orbit like this.

That’s why I decide to be insistent, to make her realize how much she and I belong together, that she doesn’t need to run away from what she feels. Not anymore.

I follow quickly, right on her heels. When she reaches for the door, I’m already there—my palm flat against the wood, blocking her escape.

She spins, breath catching. Her back hits the door. She looks so fucking tempting like that too, looking up at me, flushed and flustered, strands of silver hair escaping her still damp pony tail. I had pressed her like this in the shower too before our shift, and she had chanted my name over and over as I worshipped every inch of her delicious pale skin.

I can tell that memory is also replaying in her mind so I take a step closer, pressing in, the heat or her body seeping into mine.

She just looks up at me—pale blue eyes wide. Scared.

But not of me.

Of what she did.

But she doesn’t push me away.

“Did you mean it?” I ask. No teasing. No smirk. Just raw, quiet truth.

She flinches. “I didn’t think.”

“No shit,” I murmur, taking a step even closer. “You looked Jenna dead in the eye and kissed me like I belonged to you.”

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