Page 37 of The Players We Hate
“You showed up dressed likethatand walked straight into a party full of wolves.” I stepped closer, crowding into her space. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you? Or were you hoping I would?”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.
“You look like fucking bait, Red,” I ground out, eyes raking over her. “And I’m starving.”
Her breath hitched. “You don’t get to talk to me that way.”
“Oh, Igetto do a lot of things,” I said, voice dropping even lower as I backed her up a step until her spine hit the sideof the tunnel wall. “Starting with asking what the hell you were thinking coming here wearing this.”
Her chin lifted, defiant even as her chest rose unevenly. “It’s a Halloween party. I dressed up. Same as everyone else.”
“Bullshit. You came forme.”
The words hung between us, thick as smoke.
Her fists curled, lips twitching as if she wanted to argue further. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I don’t have to. You’re doing it for me,” I rasped, letting my hand trail down the edge of her hood, slipping under her jaw. “That corset? Those boots? Youknewexactly what it would do to me.”
“I dressed for me,” she whispered.
I leaned in, brushing my mouth beside hers, letting my breath skate over her skin. “Then why the fuck am I the one you’ve been staring at since you walked in?”
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Her silence was its own confession.
My fingers curled around her hip, gripping tight through the fabric of her dress. I felt her body arch slightly, her breath catching as I backed her harder against the wall. Her lashes fluttered, mouth parted—an invitation she didn’t mean to give.
“You walked into the wolves’ den, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing the tip of my nose along the line of her cheek. “And now you’re looking at me like youwantto be devoured.”
Her hand came up and pressed flat against my chest, but she didn’t push.
She held on, as if I were the only thing steadying her.
Her voice was barely audible. “You’re not the only one hungry.”
And fuck me, I was gone.
Her back was already to the wall. I caught her wrists, pushed them over her head, holding her there. My mouth hovered just short of hers, eyes locked on hers, waiting to see if she’d stop me.
She didn’t take it. So I tookher.
The second our mouths met, heat tore through me. Her hands slid into my hair, pulling, demanding more. I kissed her hard, like I needed it to breathe, like I’d been starving for this since the day she crashed into my life.
Temptation, meet danger.
And this time? Neither of us ran.
My hand still pressed against the wall beside her head, anchoring us at this moment, even as everything else around us spun. The air was heavy with smoke and music and tension. But all I could smell was her. Sugar and spice and everything nice.
Wren’s eyes locked on mine, daring and unguarded. Her lips were swollen, her breath brushing the space between us. The corset, the hood, the firelight on her skin—all of it hit, but not as hard as the pull in my chest, the grip low in my gut, the rush that made it impossible to step away.
“You know what you’re doing to me, Red?”
“Maybe I wanted the wolf to chase me,” she said, her voice low and daring.
Who was this girl, and what had she done with Wren?
“I’ve thought about this,” I rasped, the words rough against her lips. “Too much. Having you. Feeling you. Hearingyou let go. But I made myself a promise. I wouldn’t take what wasn’t mine.”
