Page 52 of Sinful Desires
I had fallen in love with the edges of death tonight. First it was the water, pulling me under with quiet hands. Now it was a loaded gun, steady and waiting, begging me to step closer.
And still, I kept teasing fate, wondering how many more times I could lean in before it finally swallowed me whole.
Somewhere buried beneath everything else, a question was already there.
Did he care enough to stop me?
“Go on,” I called breathlessly. “Prove it. Let’s pretend a stalker is just behind me.”
His eyes locked on mine. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slow and sharp, grey eyes darkening as he lifted the gun. “Move.”
“But you said you were the best.”
“Move, Scarlett.”
I tilted my head. “Come on, soldier. You backing out?”
He raised the gun with his right hand, steady and slow, his body perfectly still. I watched the muscles shift beneath his shirt, the way his jaw flexed as his finger settled over the trigger.
“Now.”
I shook my head and closed my eyes. One second passed. Then two.
The first shot cracked through the air. I gasped, body jolting, but stayed rooted in place. The second followed almost instantly. Oxygen burned behind my ribs, my knees were weak, and my hands clenched tightly behind my back. I stayed still, trembling, the heat between my legs pulsing hard enough to hurt.
Silence.
Then the soft click of him setting the safety back on the gun.
I opened my eyes slowly, then turned. There were no holes in the target behind me. Not a single one. I frowned, confusion burning through the adrenaline. Then I saw them to my left and right. Two clean kills between the eyes.
When I looked back at him, his eyes were colder than before.
“Test me again, Scarlett. And next time, it’s you I’ll aim for.”
He turned without a word, grabbed his jacket from the bench, and shrugged it on in one smooth motion. The fabric slid over his shoulders as my heartbeat still caught in my throat.
“Let’s go.”
But I didn’t move. Not right away.
I watched him. Watched the way he adjusted his sleeves, the way his fingers flexed once before falling still. My body stillbuzzed from the shot. From the way he’d held me. From the fact that he could’ve ended me, yet hadn’t.
I crossed the room slowly, stopping just behind him.
“How many times have you been shot?” I asked, my voice low, curious.
He adjusted the jacket across his shoulders, then turned around and finally met my eyes. “Four.”
I blinked, surprised. “And you’re still alive?”
“Accidentally.”
I dragged my fingers through the end of my braid, watching him. “Do you have any fears?”
His eyes flicked up. “I don’t fear shit. But there’s stuff I don’t like.”
“Like what?”
