Page 26 of The Hunted
Santino: Up the stakes? How? I’m already letting you get whatever you want from me. If you win. What more could you need? And yes, I am a federal agent. There’s been an increase in activity on a case I’m working on and it’s currently taking up a lot of my time. I haven’t even gone home yet not since before I saw you at my café.
He yawned, reaching for his coffee in the center console. He needed to go home. He was sure the missing body part to the blonde they found on Route 160 was sitting on his front porch with a note taunting him and trying to get inside his head. This game was one he didn’t want to play but somehow kept getting sucked into.
You’re here watching a potential mark.
And a part of you knows how to engage with the Reaper.
Maybe you’re even looking forward to it.
The thought made him smile as he glanced at the time. There was a reason he’d come to Fresh Market. It wasn’t part of a ritual to get the gnawing in his stomach under control.
His phone buzzed with a series of messages:
Silva: I still don’t believe you’re a federal agent.
Silva: Will I get in trouble for kicking your ass?
Silva: I’m too pretty for prison.
Silva: Oh, and I could need a lot.
Silva: I spend a lot of time behind a computer screen writing. I could need you to clean my apartment in high heels and a maid’s outfit.
Santino’s cock jerked behind his pants. The image alone made his stomach tighten. It was degrading. At least that’s how he’d think society would see it, but something about having her watch him clean in nothing more than a maid’s outfit had him breathing heavy, so did the image of her in nothing more than heels and stockings cleaning his home.
They could take turns, each driving the other one to the point where they couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way their bodies moved around each other.
He let out a groan and palmed himself. He shifted against his leather seats, trying but failing to get comfortable. These reactions Silva coaxed out of him made him want to explore more with her. Sex had never been about pleasure for him—wasn’t sure he understood it outside of the need to reproduce and because it had been expected of him.
But with her?
He found himself wanting to continue this conversation in person, preferably with their clothes off.
Santino: Okay, new bet. If I make you tap in five minutes or less not only do you have to go out on a date with me, but I want to see you clean my home in nothing more than heels and stockings. If you win, you can get anything from me and I’ll clean your apartment in nothing more than a maid’s outfit. The heels will probably be an issue, though, I have big feet.
He kept his eyes glued to his phone after he hit send, wondering if he’d overstepped. Talking through text was hard to decipher. He picked up his cues from how people reacted and knew how to mimic them. It was harder to do so in text form. Silva had made the joke first, but had he gone too far by engaging with it and upping the ante?
He hoped not. He looked up just in time to see Denise Miller leave the store with her goodies: bottle of wine, today’s chip selection looked like either salt and vinegar or sour cream, and he squinted his eyes, no cheese.
Interesting.
His phone buzzed and he looked down seeing Silva’s name. He fought the smile on his lips and unlocked his phone. There was only one word across the screen and it made his heart rate spike.
Silva: deal
Santino: Good. Do you need time to prep? How does this weekend sound? If that’s not doable I’m good for next week. Which might be better for me, in case something new happens with my cases.
He dropped the phone into the center console and put his car in drive. He knew there were going to be new developments in his case because he had every intention of calling the Reaper’s bluff. He would play his part in the game they started but he wanted to end. Still, he could squeeze in a few moments to win this bet with Silva. He was sure Jordan would be all too willing to cover for him, especially if he hinted at what he was going to do.
And he planned on winning, but maybe he could still give her what she wanted.
He stopped behind the red light, watching Denise Miller drive off. He checked his phone, feeling what he considered joy. Having her name come across his screen could easily turn into one of his vices.
At least until the urge to kill her took over.
Silva: Time to prep? Maybe you need to get in a stretch or two, old man.
Silva: but not me.
