Page 10

10

REMY

I sit across Ty in his office, watching him take a long drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls around us in the dimly lit space as he slides a piece of paper across it.

“These idiots think they can shake us down.” He taps the paper with two fingers. “Ten grand by midnight, or they’ll go to the cops about our operation.”

I scan the note, memorizing the meeting location. “Amateurs. If they knew anything about us, they wouldn’t make threats.”

“Exactly.” Ty leans back in his chair, eyes cold. “Usually, I’d send Nash’s crew to handle this, but they’ve got the big performance tonight. Can’t pull them from that.”

“The acrobatics is one of the most loved shows.” I nod, knowing Colt and Nash’s act is crucial to maintaining a legitimate facade.

“Which is why I need you to take care of this.” Ty’s voice carries that edge I know well—the one that means someone’s about to disappear. “Meeting point is the old lumber yard. Midnight.”

“They’re expecting cash?” I confirm.

“They’re expecting their money.” He stubs out his cigarette. “Make sure they don’t expect anything ever again.”

I pocket the note, already planning the cleanup. “Any preference on how it’s handled?”

“Clean. Quick. No traces.” Ty’s eyes meet mine. “Can’t have any loose ends threatening the operation.”

“Consider it done.” I stand, knowing our conversation is over. These wannabe extortionists picked the wrong carnival to threaten. By tomorrow, they’ll be nothing but a cautionary tale.

I step out of my trailer into the morning sun, already feeling those familiar eyes on me. Eden is getting bolder each day. The corner of my mouth twitches up as I grab my tool belt, making a show of adjusting it low on my hips.

Through my peripheral vision, I catch her ducking behind a cotton candy cart—an amateur move. She’s usually more careful than this, but her obsession is making her sloppy. I stretch deliberately, letting my shirt ride up to expose the tattoos crawling across my abs.

“Hey, Remy, need help with the new fence line?” Lars calls out.

I wave him off. “Got it covered.”

The physical work gives me an excuse to put on a performance. I drive posts into the ground with measured strikes, muscles flexing with each impact. Sweat begins to bead on my skin in the heat. I hear the faint click of a camera shutter, knowing she’s documenting every moment. She started with her iPhone camera, but I’m guessing she wanted to see more… so much more.

Eden thinks she’s the hunter here, studying me like one of the serial killers she talks about on her podcast. She has no idea I’m letting her get closer, feeding her obsession bit by bit. I pull off my shirt, using it to wipe my face before tossing it aside. Another camera click.

“Looking good there, Remy,” one of the carnival girls calls out as she passes. I give her a nod, noting how Eden shifts restlessly in her hiding spot. The jealousy rolling off her is almost tangible.

I continue working, each movement calculated to draw her in deeper. My little stalker doesn’t realize she’s the one being hunted, but soon enough, she’ll learn what happens when you get too close to the monsters you study.

The metal fence post is cold against my palm as I position it. The tattoos etched across my torso tell stories I’ll never share—stories of blood and darkness that would make my little stalker’s fantasies seem tame.

A soft gasp is audible from behind the cotton candy cart. My cock hardens instantly at the sound of her need, straining against my jeans. I hide my smirk, pretending I haven’t heard her desperate intake of breath.

The sweat beading on my chest isn’t from exertion—the morning air is too crisp for that, but Eden doesn’t need to know. Let her imagine I’m working up a sweat. Let her trace every droplet with those greedy eyes. I arch my back as I drive the post deeper, ensuring she gets a good view of the muscles rippling across my back.

My cock throbs, knowing she’s probably squirming behind that cart, pressing her thighs together. She is a needy little thing, thinking she’s in control with her camera and notes. I flex deliberately as I reach for the next post, giving her something worth photographing.

The wind shifts, carrying her scent of wisteria and honeysuckle. My hands tighten on the post, imagining how I’ll make her gasp for real when the time comes. For now, though, this game of cat and mouse continues.

I lower the post to the ground, pausing my task. My show is forgotten as I turn and stride towards the cotton candy stand, eyes scanning the fairground. No movement. Then—the faintest whimper.

She’s touching herself. Right here in the open, this wild cat’s playing with herself while she watches me. I circle the stand, and there she is. Face flushed, lips parted, eyes wide as she sees me. Her hands are buried under that short skirt of hers, and she’s breathing heavily, hips shifting.

I tower over her, taking in her disheveled state. “Well, little stalker. Care to explain why you’re hiding behind here?”

Eden’s cheeks are scarlet now, eyes darting like a cornered animal. “I—I?—”

“Cat got your tongue?” I cross my arms, taking perverse pleasure in her embarrassment. “Seems you’re enjoying the view a little too much.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Fuck off.”

“Make me.” I step closer, invading her space.

She’s breathless now, but her hands stay put, still exploring herself beneath that skirt. She’s shameless, and it’s so damn hot.

“Shouldn’t you be keeping your hands to yourself?” I ask, lowering my voice to a dangerously quiet tone. “Or do you want an audience?”

She stops and snarls, pushing past me.

I laugh, grabbing her wrist and spinning her back to face me. The fire in her eyes is almost as hot as the heat between her thighs. I can practically taste her arousal in the air.

“Let go of me,” she hisses but makes no move to pull away.

“You’re the one who’s been stalking me. Come to see the monster up close?” I tighten my grip, pulling her closer. “Or maybe you wanted to be the next victim?”

Eden wrenches her hand free and takes a swing at me. I catch her wrist easily, and our bodies are flush against each other. Her eyes go wide, my intentions clear. She’s not running anymore. Not the little hunter. Not now.

“Why don’t we finish what you started here?” I grind myself against her, showing her exactly what she’s done to me.

Her chest is heaving, and she lets out a breathless laugh. “You think I’m scared of you?”

I chuckle, tightening my hold. “Oh, I know you are.” I crush my mouth to hers, showing her exactly what kind of monster I am. As I drag her deeper into our first kiss, I know she likes it. She’s practically vibrating against me as I pin her in place.

All thoughts of the extortionists are gone. Right now, Eden’s all that matters.

I force her against the cart, one hand pinning her wrists above her head, the other palming her breast under her shirt, thumb stroking her stiff peak. Her breasts are full and soft, and her skin is electric under my touch. This is what she wants—no, needs. To be taken with force, overwhelmed, claimed. I kiss her hard, biting down on her bottom lip until she whimpers, tasting the faint sweetness of cotton candy. My free hand slips under her skirt, finding her slick.

She moans into my mouth, squirming as my fingers delve into her heat, seeking that perfect spot that’ll make her fall apart.

With deliberate slowness, I drag my fingers through her cunt, and she bucks against my hand, seeking more.

“Fuck, Remy,” she breathes against my lips. “Please.”

Just a little more, a little further. I press harder, my fingers stroking that delicious bundle of nerves, and she cries out.

I bend her back, exposing her throat as my fingers work her roughly. “This what you’ve been fantasizing about, little stalker? Getting fucked by the monster?”

“Yes,” she gasps, nails digging into my arms.

“Tell me what you want.” I nip at her neck, sucking a spot that’ll leave a mark.

“I want you,” she moans. “Please, fuck me. Now.”

I smile against her skin as I bring her to the edge, circling that sweet clit, making sure she feels every inch of my finger. She’s almost there—so close. But not yet.

This is where the true torture begins.

Pulling my hand free, I kiss her again, biting and sucking at her lips until she’s breathless. My hands roam her body, teasing her breasts, her hips, her thighs; every touch is a promise of what’s to come.

“Don’t tease,” she begs, trying to pull me closer. I chuckle, spinning her around and pushing her against the cart. Her chest heaves, and she looks over her shoulder at me, eyes burning with frustration and arousal.

I capture her wrists, raise them above her head, and kiss my way down the length of her spine over her shirt, relishing the shivers that rake her body. My fingers dance over the V of her thighs, ghosting the edges of her soaked panties without giving her what she needs.

I step back, dragging my mouth from her. She whimpers and turns to face me, trying to follow me, but I hold her at arm’s length.

“Enough.”

A flicker of confusion crosses her face. “But?—”

“Get the fuck away from me, Eden.” I shove her away, some part of me relishing how her eyes flash with hurt. “Get out of my sight.”

She stumbles back, blinking rapidly, and straightens herself. Those gorgeous tits of hers are heaving, nipples tight under that thin fabric. She thinks I’m tossing her aside, but she doesn’t know the plan I’ve set in motion. She’s falling deep into my spinning web and doesn’t even realize it.

“What the fuck, Remy?” Her eyes are blazing now. “You want this as much as I do.”

I grab my shirt and pull it on. “Yeah, I wanted to see how far you’d go. But this isn’t happening. This isn’t some fucked-up fantasy for your pleasure.” I jerk my chin towards her crotch, towards that heat I haven’t even gotten to taste yet. “Get the hell away from my carnival.”

She flinches like I struck her, and I know at that moment that I’ve found the chink in her armor. She’ll do anything to get back in my good graces, whatever I demand of her. This little stalker is about to become my pawn. I leave her standing there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

She wants control but doesn’t know what it’s like when true control takes hold. My control. She’s already wrapped around my finger, desperate to taste what we almost had.

And that’s exactly what I’ll use against her. She’ll do whatever I want now, thinking she’s chasing after me. She has no idea she’s playing right into my hands.

This isn’t about satisfying her anymore—pushing her to the edge and letting her dangle there. She wants me? Fine. But she’ll have to work for it now. By the time she’s done, she’ll be exactly where I want her—under my thumb and longing for more.