Page 61 of The Hunted
“Do you know you wear your emotions on your face?” He moved, settling in between her now open legs. “I could read everything on your mind when you watched me walk away.”
Silva’s breath hitched. She wanted to sit back—to put space in between them—but couldn’t find the energy to move out of his orbit. “I doubt that highly. I have a steel trap on my emotions.” Or so she’d always been told.
Santino chuckled, brushing his thumbs against the side of her thighs. “You do not. At least not with me.”
She scoffed. “Oh yeah? Then what was I thinking?”
“The PG version? You wouldn’t mind letting me kiss you again. The non-PG version?” He stood up and brought his lips toward her ear. She angled her head, giving him whatever access he wanted to her.
“They range from sitting on my face to letting me pin you down and fuck you.” He placed a feather light kiss against her rapidly beating pulse before he tried to pull away, but she grabbed his shirt, keeping him close to her.
She should have been embarrassed at how easily he’d pinned down the exact thought she had, but he’d proven time and time again how well he read his surroundings. “More of the first one,” she whispered, looking up at him.
The air around them thickened. The sounds of the park faded away as they stared at each other. There was a storm brewing in his eyes, and she caught the way his nostrils flared and the small tick in his jaw. She could feel his fingers tease the outside of her thighs, his touch searing into her skin despite the fact she was wearing work out pants.
“I think as much as I enjoy you in my hoodie.” He let out a deep breath. “I’d prefer you naked and sitting on my face.” His gaze dropped down to her lips. “I already like the feel of you on my lips. I can only imagine how much I’ll crave you once I truly get to taste you, princess.”
She gasped his name, and he closed his eyes. “The way you say my name, Silva. It feels like salvation.”
“And what could you possibly need salvation from?” she whispered.
He opened his eyes and she could see the indecision warring. He had his skeletons, just like her. His fingers brushed precariously close to her newest mark. It felt like a cold shower, pulling her from her lust-filled thoughts and back into the real world.
“You want me to take you home.” Santino didn’t phrase it as a question. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she had no plans on inviting him back up to her apartment, until she realized he probably caught the shift in her.
Always watching.
She placed a chaste kiss on his lips and nodded. She needed to bathe the run from her skin, eat something with a little more substance, and finish up the column she tried to work on last night before bed.
And I need to find a way to figure out how to let him see me and it not trigger anything from my past.
“Come on, princess. I have snacks in the car.” He pulled back, holding his hand out for her. She took it and he pulled her up to her feet. “Are we still on for the sparring match later tonight?”
Silva smiled. “Yes. Does nine work for you to get your ass kicked?”
Santino intertwined their hands together, laughing. “Don’t get too confident, now. But nine works for me.” He pulled her hand up to his mouth, kissing it. “I’m sure I’ll be winning either way.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you have a thing for wearing a maid’s outfit and cleaning.”
His eyes crinkled in the corner as he smiled at her. “For you? I don’t think there’s much I wouldn’t have a thing for.”
ChapterTwenty-Six
“Yes, Bob. Sources are saying the body found earlier this morning at the State Fair is confirmed to be Denise Miller, an attorney for Mercer and Son. They handled the notorious case of Robert Marshal, the once-beloved history teacher at Milton Middle School turned town pariah after allegations of sexual assault of minors were levied against him. Records show that Denise Miller had been one of the attorneys on that case.”
“That’s right, Barbara. Do we think there’s a connection to the other bodies that were found? Weren’t Chester Dean and Marcus Holding accused of similar crimes?”
“Correct, but there’s no other connection between the victims. Neither local PD nor the FBI have managed to find the identity of the woman they found on Route 160. Right now local PD is asking everyone?—”
The Reaper turned off the radio and tapped into the security footage they had on the cameras near Denise Miller’s house. They couldn’t remember what time they saw Santino drag her body out of his car, so it was a lot of fast forwarding, pausing and fast forwarding some more. There were too many houses on Denise Miller’s block, too many ways for someone to have seen something and record it on a phone. Thanks to technology, there were nothing but cameras.
“What a fucking idiot,” the Reaper cursed out loud.
“Oooooo, you said a bad word.”
The Reaper turned to see a mom and a little girl walking next to their car and chuckled. The little girl was all big brown eyes and a mass of curls that surround her round face. She was trying to get her mother’s attention, tugging on the woman’s arm.
“Mom, I heard a bad word,” she repeated, a little too eager to rat out a stranger.
