Page 61 of Slay Me

Another scratch. I jump out of bed and reach for the heaviest thing I can find—a book that was sitting on the nightstand. “You better answer, or so help me, I will clobber you!” I call out.

Still, no answer.

On tiptoes, I move through the space, pulse pounding in my ears. The rug is soft beneath my feet as I make my way toward the bathroom. The door is shut, but there are no sounds coming from inside.

You can do this.

“Hello?” I call out.

Still nothing.

“I’m coming in!” Reaching out, I grip the handle and shove the door forward.

Light floods the hall, and I suck in a breath at themassivewall of muscle standing in front of the sink—completely naked. “Oh, fuck,” I whisper as I let my gaze travel unashamedly from his powerful legs to his perfectly sculpted ass.

I take in his biceps, and when he turns toward me, I am unable to keep my gaze from dropping to his unnaturally large dick. It hangs between his legs, and my mouth actually waters. As if I’m looking at a steak and not a dragon’s man-meat.

Man-meat. Seriously?I shake my head, trying to come up with any rational thought. Unfortunately, it’s stuck on penis brain.

“Do I really need to remind you that my eyes are up here?”

Shit.I tear my gaze from something I wouldreallylove to get my hands on—and I do mean both hands—and pay close attention to his broad chest as I rake my gaze up to his face. He’s watching me with an expression that nearly borders on amusement.

“Sorry. You caught me off guard.” But even I hear how weak that expression is. “I called out to see who was here.”

He reaches up, muscles flexing as he pulls an earbud out of his ear then drops it in the hand already holding one. “And you thought that, since I didn’t answer, you should barge in?”

“I didn’t know who you were. You could have been an intruder.”

His gaze drops to the book in my hand. “And you were going to what—bludgeon me with my nightly read?”

“If I had to,” I reply, straightening my shoulders.

Not at all bothered by the fact that he’s naked, the Ringmaster steps closer to me, so close that I can see the flecks of green in his irises. “You are safe here.”

“I thought I was safe in my apartment. And the fact that I am here is evidence enough that I am not.”

“No one comes into my space, Liv.”

My name on his lips shouldn’t sound so alluring. The heat in my belly grows, the throbbing between my legs so damn intense it nearly drops me to my knees. I tighten my free hand into a fist and then back away. “I apologize for barging in on you.”

“Don’t,” he replies, facing the sink again. He places both earbuds on the counter and begins rubbing lotion on his powerful arms. “Did Adaya care for you well enough?”

“Yes. Thank you.” The fact that he is clearly so unashamed by his nakedness gives me another opportunity to study his body. Honestly, this man clothed, even knowing what a bastard he can be, should be considered a crime. “I am going back to my apartment tomorrow.”

“You will go back when I believe you are ready.”

“No one else is a threat to me.”

He turns to me now. “If you believe that, then you are far more ignorant than I gave you credit for.”

My cheeks heat. “Valentina is dead, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”

A muscle in his jaw clenches, and he looks away from me for a moment. Then, he reaches to the counter and grabs a pair of shorts. Casually, he pulls them on then crosses both arms over his chest. “They areallthreats to you. And have you forgotten so quickly about what happened to Thomas and Jenny?”

The image of my dead friends assaults me. “Of course not.” And even though I don’t fully believe the words, I speak them anyway, “If anyone else was going to hurt me, they would have tried already. They’re threats to you, not me.”

He grins, though there is no humor in it. The expression is a challenge at best. At worst—well—I don’t want to think about that. “They are not threats to me,” Dante replies. “I own them.”