Page 103 of The Broken Note

The dress pools around my ankles. I step out of it. Flick it away with my shoes.

Bra. Tights. Panties. Shoes.

That’s it.

All that stands between me and his greedy, brutal eyes.

“Is there something you’re not telling me about the fire?” I demand quietly.

A muscle in his jaw flexes. The sound of his zipper coming down turns my insides to mush and I bite hard on my bottom lip. He undoes his pants and shucks it off, eyes never leaving mine.

I refuse to dip my gaze past his V-line. Refuse to let temptation get the best of me. Refuse to admit that the heat in my core has anything to do with the fact that he’s one piece away from being naked.

“Careful, Cadey. Once it’s off, the game is over,” Dutch taunts.

“Game is over when I say it’s over,” I snap.

He laughs, this dark, twisted sort of chuckle that promises pain and pleasure in equal measures. It’s a sound that scares me. Sends a full-body shiver up my skin.

“My turn.” His entire face is darkening, eyes burning me to crisps. “Did you find the person who pawned the ring and left cash under your bed?”

Another question about mom.

I reach behind me to unsnap my bra, my body clenching in anticipation.

Dutch takes a giant step forward, trapping my wrist beneath his huge, calloused hand. The smell of him tightens around me like a rope. Amber eyes peer into my own, sending traitorous currents lashing through my veins.

He’s turned my own body against me. Where did seventeen years of self-control go?

“I’m going to take this off you,” he breathes. Quiet. Calm. Yet he’s staking his claim. Demanding ownership.

When I speak, my voice is rough and broken. “That’s not the rule—”

“You get one more question, Cadey. One more question before my self-control runs out and I mark every inch of this body until sitting down, standing up, taking a damn shower makes you think of me.”

I shiver, feeling my pulse pick up and my lungs constrict.

His eyes are two pools of dark promises, his mouth a harsh slash of threats and heat.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I croak. “Why me and not some girl from your world?”

The smile he gives me is arrogant and absolute—Dutch knows that I’m his for the taking and he doesn’t have to answer that honestly for me to anticipate what he’s about to do next.

But he still takes a second to think about his reply.

“You have something to protect and I have something to destroy. You escape into music and I’m trapped there. You hid from me and I still found you. Where you end, I begin.” He wraps long fingers around the back of my neck. “We may not be from the same world, Cadence, but we’re made of the same freaking soul.”

“Dutch.” It’s all I can say before he slips his mouth over mine and sips from my lips. Slow and luxurious. Like he’s tasting expensive wine. Something to be savored, not rushed.

My hands twine in his hair and all the blood in my body rushes between my legs, making my head spin.

Dutch’s kiss is pure torture, a promise ripped from the pages of a fairytale. Right there in the villain’s chapter where he swears he’ll burn the world down.

Wrong prince.

Wrong story.

It should hurt. It should frighten me, but it feels so right.

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