Page 40 of Ghosted in Arkadia
“I thought you would know.” I raise an eyebrow, whether he can see it or not. Deliberately poking at him fills me with a rush more potent than my kit or a bottle of vodka. “You said you’d watch. Why don’t you tell me? Did I masturbate last night or not?”
He chuckles, the sound is so low that if it weren’t for the silence of the abandoned house, I wouldn’t have heard it at all. “Cranky.” He uses the same finger that he just used between my thighs toboopme on the nose. “Clearly not.”
A huff of air pushes its way through my lips with force. “Actually, that’s just part of my personality. Something you haven’t bothered to learn over the past twenty years like you were supposed to.”
He bends down slowly, his masked face gradually getting closer to mine. I keep my chin aimed defiantly high, my back and shoulders straight. Despite my position, his hand comes up to gently, but firmly, grab hold of my chin. He stops mere inches away. The dim lighting reflects off the painted strokes that makeup the skull. I can feel a hot puff of his breath forcing its way through his mask. My eyes flutter shut for a moment as I breathe him in, the scent filling my body. Another rush of warmth spreads through me, something entirely visceral.
Dammit. Keep it together, Kira. All he did was breathe. My traitorous nipples harden, pressing against my bra almost painfully.
“Did you want me to break into your house last night, kitten? You told me no, but that’s what you really wanted me to do. Isn’t it?” I can practically hear the smile in his tone. “Come into your house and take what’smine.”
A shiver runs down my spine, but I hold my body still. Every breath I take is short, trying my best not to breathe him in anymore. I need to think straight. My eyes stare into the black where his eyes should be, directing my soul at him even if I couldn’t see his.
“I want to know who you are,” I say firmly.
“A name is a powerful thing, kitten.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me about Calvin Ledger.”
If the name hit any sort of chord inside Ghost, he doesn’t give it away.
“I needed to get you alone for a little while. Somewhere, private.” The smile is back in his tone, as if he’s gloating.
“Did you do something to the DNA I sent to the lab?” I wasn’t exactly sure what I was accusing him of doing, but I knew well enough that Calvin’s report had led me here.
“Computers are quite easy to hack into.” This time, a small huff of laughter comes out. “Phones too.”
My gaze flicks toward the sink and the ring of light emanating from it. No wonder my messages were there one moment and gone the next.
“Give me my dick pic back,” I say with a scowl.
“That’s your reaction?” He laughs again. This time it comes across as real. His head moves away from mine, giving me enough space to take a full breath. “Fuck. You make it hard to be good.”
“It’s mine.” While I normally don’t enjoy getting a random picture of a cock sent to my phone, I could use it to find the location where the picture was taken. And hopefully, find out who he is from there.
Plus, yeah…
“Still feeling like you have an itch that needs scratching?” He releases his hold on my chin, and I move it around to break the stiff feeling. “Do you need a name to scream, kitten?”
“I already have a name for you. It’s Ghost. Since that’s what you act like.”
“Maybe I should change yours to princess. You keep acting like you expect to get your way.”
A strange stabbing sensation fills me at the sound of the word princess. I don’t like that moniker coming fromhislips.
“How about I do one better than returning the photo? I’ll let you see the real thing, kitten. All you have to do is beg.”
“How about you give me your name, or I leave?”
“What makes you think that’s up to you?” His tone is low again, back to a near growl as he leans toward me.
I straighten my back, closing the remaining distance between us. My lips brush against his mask. “Because you can’t afford to make me hate you anymore than I already do.”
Ghost reacts to the verbal slap. His entire body tenses when his muscles bunch. It only lasts for a moment before he builds back his confidence. He moves back, but his hands slam onto the counter, caging me between them.
“You’re right. Where were my manners, princess?” His tone is sharp and for the first time, a flicker of fear washes through me. There’s an edge of anger emanating from him. “How about Iscratch your itch, then shove my cock down your throat? Ghost works just fine, kitten.”
I’m at war with myself. Fear. Arousal. Mental whiplash. And a deep primal urge screaming inside me to have him fuck me senseless. That part doesn’t even care if he kills me after, or that it was plausible.
