Page 14 of Behind the Scenes

Oh, you have no idea,was what I wanted to say, but I had no way of letting the words out through the lump in my throat.

She’s perfect.I loved the anger. Loved the power she exuded. Everything about her was a dream.

I couldn’t wait to destroy her facade.Break down her walls and rip apart that mask she wore so prettily.

At least that’s what the monster inside me wanted.

In reality, I wouldn’t be surprised to find myself kneeling right at her feet, all but begging for her to touch me or let me touch her.

“You came in person to tell me you won’t be taking me? I’m honored,” I said and pushed myself to a sitting position. She was so close, I could reach out to touch her, and my fingers itched to do so.

She let out a noise of disgust as a reply.

“I take it the flowers weren’t well received?’ I asked and tilted my head with a sly smile. Her shoes were blue suede, just like the ones I had sent her. She had thrown those away, but it wasn’t long until she showed up with a pair she bought herself. “I see you wore blue today. I thought you’d appreciate the attempt to coordinate.”

She leaned down toward me, her face getting impossibly close. I held my breath.So close.Close enough for her breath to fan across my face.

She smelled delightful. Tom Ford’s Fucking Fabulous.I knew it was her favorite and bought my own just so I could imagine her smell… But it was so much better mixed with her natural scent.

“Stay away from me,” she warned. “Whatever fucked-up game you’re playing, I want no part of it.”

“It’s not a game, Laura,” I said, lowering my voice. “I want you. And I will have you.”

She hesitated. And then she gave me a smirk.

“Don’t they all?” she threw over her shoulder as she turned to leave. “Don’t try me. You’ll regret it.”

I didn’t stop her but enjoyed the hell out of watching her walk away. The sway in her hips when she thought she’d won was addictive.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe this is a fucked-up game.

One I intend to win.

laura

. . .

Ididn’t have time for this.

Not for Harley and her fucked-up attention grab, and certainly not forhim.

Lenard. A high-profile prosecutor with more than his fair share of cases under his belt. He’d been in the industry a bit longer than me, but like many others, not due to merit.

I liked to attribute most of his success to the fact that his father was also a once-prominent judge who retired only a year before I passed the bar.

Not that Lenard wasn’t smart—if he weren’t, I wouldn’t have kept him around for so long, five years to be exact.

I didn’t have time to waste.

I didn’t need relationships.

And I definitely didn’t need to complicate things withfeelings.

So I made sure every person in my life had a purpose.

Those at the sex club were there to get me off. They were moderately good at their job, even if predictable.

Lenard was for more mentally stimulating conversations and a safe place to vent—or, well, as safe as he could be, since I didn’treally trust anyone.