Page 44 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

13

Sin

I watch her run down the slope

She picks up her pace, her butt cheeks stretching and pulling against the seat of her jeans. My dick twitches; my groin hardens. My entire body begs me to follow her.

The hell?

I hadn’t meant to initiate this little game, but when she’d held her own and dared me, something inside of me had snapped—the hunter inside that loves to play, to race after his prey, toy with it, before he claims it. Claim her? No.

I never meant for this to go this far.

It was supposed to have been easy—crowd her into a corner until she is helpless and alone, then throw her a lifeline, and watch her entangle herself in the snare. Instead, the fine threads of the net tighten around me.

Sweat trickles down my spine.

Bloody long-sleeve shirts; I prefer to be casually dressed… but the front. It always comes down to the face I show the world.

The importance of keeping up this façade until I find those responsible for turning the lives of the Seven upside down.

I can’t fail them; not now.

I break into a run, covering the ground in half the time it took her.

Heart pounding, pulse thudding at my temples, adrenaline laces my blood. The hunt, it always comes down to the hunt. The ability to track down my victims and entrap them. It’s why I had been chosen to lead this foray against our enemy. Coming from the rest of the Seven, I assure you it’s a compliment that I don’t take lightly either. Nor my responsibility to them. Catch her, coerce her, make her bend willingly to your maneuvers.

All of the pores on my skin seem to pop. I stalk her as she runs out of the park, up the street that leads to my home. Is she aware of the route she’s taken? A pigeon to a homing device. Fly away, little birdie, lead me on the chase.

She rushes up the sidewalk, careening to the very edge where it meets the road, then over to the other side where the walls of the houses skirt the hillside. The hell is she doing? I frown, increase my pace. She continues her hap-hazard retreat. Her shoulders shudder; her speed slows. She must be tired, winded from the descent.

At least she’s made it this far without falling arse over tit. The woman needs a keeper.

Max races up from behind to join me. He keeps abreast, his mouth open, tongue lolling.

I prefer to give him his freedom. He has full run of the house and the grounds.

In fact, I have faith in his capacity to look after himself. Unlike her. She needs a goddamn leash to be kept in check. I can’t allow her to hurt herself. Not until she’s played her role in this charade, of course.

That’s all it is. My fingers twitch. How would it be to encircle the expanse of her neck, as I bend her over my desk and take her from behind? My dick lengthens, instantly excited by the thought. I growl low in my throat. This primal reaction I keep having to her is unacceptable. I must maintain my distance from her, or it will complicate things further.

I click my tongue and Max lunges forward. He circles her and her speed slows. She staggers to the gate leading up to my home. Max brushes past her, darting past the open gate, up the garden path. She follows him. Good girl. I’ll go easier on her when I catch her. A surge of something fierce unrolls in my chest. Anticipation? Lust…? Admiration that she’s lasted this far? Yeah okay. I am not a sore loser. I’ll give her her due where it is due to her.

The fuck—?I can’t string together a sentence with words, apparently. I slow to a walk, stalk up the garden path. Reach her where she’s sitting on the steps. She stares ahead, her legs bent at the knees, her features pinched. I lower myself next to her.

We sit there in silence. The wind rustles the trees that skirt my property. Ahead on the front road, a cyclist races past.

"What were you doing earlier?" My voice emerges huskier than I intended. I clear my throat and she stiffens.

"What do you mean?"

"You careened back and forth as if—"

"As if there were people shooting at me." She brings a strand of that pink hair to her mouth and chews on it.

"There wasn’t anyone aiming at you."

"Wasn’t there?" She shoots me a sideways glance. "I could feel your gaze drilling holes into me."