Page 26 of Deadly Obsession
A man forced her to do things she didn’t want to do.
Whoever he may be, Iwillfind and kill him.
I release her because of course she doesn’t see I’m not that man. She doesn’t know me. We’ve fucked, but I’m still just a stranger.She’sa stranger.
And she’s running from me again, stepping away to flag a taxi.
“Your number then. I can’t lose you this time.”
Her brows furrow, and she chews on her bottom lip. My hand moves before I’m able to stop it, and I pull the plump kissable lip from her teeth and palm her cheek. Her breath hitches, and she closes her eyes.
Then she smacks my hand away, failing to hold back her smile.
“You know you could find me through Noah.”
“Andyouknow she wouldn’t willingly give me your information.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” She holds out her hand, and I quickly retrieve my phone from my pocket. “Don’t make me regret this, Elias. I will block your ass if you keep being this clingy.”
She aggressively taps at the screen.
“Clingy, huh?”
“Yeah. Right now, you’re at Level 10 Clinger status.”
She hands my phone back, and I call the number. Her phone lights up, and she waves it at me, proving she entered her actual number.
Sage walks to the cab that just pulled up, and I swoop in to open the door for her.
“Let me be clear, Reine,” I say, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You keep fighting me, but that pussy ofyours didn’t get the message. Shelovesmy cock.Level20Clinger.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, and I place a soft kiss on her cheek.
“Text me when you are home safe,” I say and let my queen go.
Iconsidered following Sage or sending one of my men to watch over her, but I just got her back, and I don’t want to scare her away with my Level 10 Clinger behavior.
At least I have her number now. I send it to my tech guy, hoping to get an address with it. Or any information at all.
What are you hiding, Sage?
My phone vibrates with a text, as if my thoughts of her conjured it.
Reine
Home
It’s been less than fifteen minutes since she left Lenetti’s party, which means she lives somewhere in Manhattan, somewhere close to Midtown.
I ignore the middle finger emoji that accompanies the text and start typing out a reply, promising punishment for virtually flipping me off, when my phone rings. My heartlurches in my chest, hopeful that it’s Sage, before I see my uncle’s name.
“What?” I growl upon answering.
“Got a tip about a shipment. Three a.m. Red Hook,” he says, ignoring my moody behavior.
I glance at my watch. It’s not even midnight.
