Page 9 of Ends of Being

I’m smug.

I fully admit it, I’m one smug fucking bastard right now.

And the look on her face. Priceless.

She looks so adorably confused and full of rage I honestly can’t decide if I want to hug her or grab her by her hair and yank her head back to spit in her mouth. Maybe both.

I knew it would take her a fair amount of time to get herself out of my wooded maze, but it took her so long I was starting to get worried.

Since I was familiar with my surroundings, and had many options for transportation, I have been here for quite a while, regaling a small group of police officers with my tales of woe with my woman. How our role-playing rendezvous went awry, and she had gotten herself tangled up in the forest. They mostly thought it was a funny story and happily let me wait around for her to show up.

Because her reporting me to the police is always part of the show.

I think they appreciate that I came up with a feasible cover story rather than expecting them to cover up my potentially criminal shenanigans. I also brought coffee and an envelope of money that just happened to fall out of my pocket at some point in the hallway.

A growl snaps me out of my thoughts, and I glance at Antoinette’s furious face as I ask, “Are you all right, darling? Are you injured?”

If looks could kill, I would drop dead in this very spot.

“I don’t know, Clark,’ she snarls. “How are your balls?”

I wince. All the men in the room wince.

I smile at her lovingly. “Oh, don’t you worry about the boys. They’ve recovered just fine from your little slip-up.”

She shows me her teeth. Time to go.

I turn to the closest officer, offering my hand. “Thank you for letting me wait here for her arrival. We’ll take our lover’s quarrel out of your hair for now.”

He shakes my hand, grinning at me knowingly, “Anytime, Darius. We’re always here to be your little safe space.”

He laughs, so I laugh. Thank god for greedy bastards.

I put my arm around Antoinette, forcefully maneuvering her around toward the exit. “Just go with it, baby girl. You can murder me with your poetry soon enough.”

She’s vibrating with rage beneath my arm, and my cock hardens in my pants. I pull her closer to me, pressing my face into her neck as we walk down the hallway. She smells like musky earth and sweet cinnamon.

I narrow my eyes at her. “You ate my fucking Red Hots, didn’t you?”

She smirks. “Every last fucking one of them.”

“You are a very naughty girl, Antoinette. Whatever am I going to do with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe truss me up and stuff me in your trunk again?”

“Tempting as that sounds, I think our playtime opportunity has passed.” I lean closer to her, smirking as I add, “For now.”

She gives me a bland look and grunts at me.

I put my hand out. “My key FOB, please.”

She stares at me for a beat. “It’s in the car.”

“You didn’t lock my car?” I ask incredulously.

“Why would I be worried about locking your stupid car when I came here to report you for kidnapping me? You should be in jail right now.”

I scoff, stepping closer to her. “It would take a considerable amount of effort to get me sent to jail.”

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