Page 3 of His Scarlette Obsession
But never like this.
Never before I even speak.
Because she doesn’t see me.
Not yet.
And I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t seen.
My father’s voice echoes in my head, and I remember one of those rare moments where he forgot his depression and self-pity long enough to warn me from following his footsteps.
Beware of women who make you forget yourself, Lykan. One moment of weakness was all it took for me.
I’d sworn never to fall into the same trap. Never to let desire override duty. Never to let a woman turn me into what my father became.
Yet here I am, hands clenched at my sides to keep from crossing the street, from touching that fire-bright hair, from tracing the curve of her smiling mouth with my thumb.
I want her.
No, actually...that’s not the right word.
I want toconsumeher.
I want her beneath me, those auburn strands spread across my sheets. I want to taste every inch of her skin, to feel her trembleagainst my mouth. I want her legs wrapped around my waist, her nails scoring my back as I drive into her.
I want to own her, possess her, mark her in ways she’d never forget.
The intensity of my reaction is disturbing.
Dangerous.
This woman, whoever she is, threatens everything I’ve built. The control. The distance. The perfect, impenetrable facade that has kept me safe all these years.
And still, I can’t look away.
She is the reason my carefully ordered life will unravel.
But I don’t know that yet.
All I know is this: I saw her. And now I cannot unsee her.
Scarlette
He’s A Wolf, Not A Shark.
That’s what I end up typing as the headline for this month’s internal HR newsletter.
Not exactly the corporate-friendly tone I’m supposed to aim for, but hey, nobody actually reads these things except maybe Joni from Payroll, and she lives for the drama. Last month I included a birthday message for a fake employee I named for “Sue Mieh” just to see if anyone would notice. No one did.
But anyway...
Wolves Are Worse Than Sharks.
I think that makes a better title, and it’s not even a lie. Sharks you can see coming. They circle. They make a splash. They come in with teeth and blood and let everyone know they’re here to eat.
But wolves?
Wolves wear three-piece suits that probably cost more than my rent. Wolves make polite conversation in elevators while calculating how to foreclose on your dreams. Wolves say things like “just exploring options” before they steal a company out from under your feet. Wolves take small business dreams and turn them into luxury condo blueprints before anyone realizes what’s happening.
