Page 22 of The Deceptions

Now, it was time to make my great escape. Far, far away from here. With the clarity this gave me, I’m ready to face Jonathan and this case head on. Well, maybe.

“Of course,” I say, making a move toward the door. Unfortunately, I don't get too far. He grabs my arm firmly in his grip, stopping me short and pulling me close to his warmth.

I freeze at the feeling of his hands on me. Excitement bursts through my veins again, but I shake it off. I can’t fall into his trap again. I can’t let him rock my world a second time, no matter how much my body begs for more of him inside me. Not to mention the orgasms. I shudder at the thought. Could I really go for two more soul-splitting orgasms?

Yes. Yes, I could. But I have a job to do. Responsibilities to fulfill. And as much as I want to live in this fantasy land with Malic, I need to go back to the hotel.

Gently, I remove his hand from me, and he pouts. Actually fucking pouts, but respectfully takes a step back. But those eyes? Oh, those eyes never leave me, taking in their last fill. A shiverworks its way down my spine, begging me to reconsider round two. Just looking at him and the way he looks at me, like I’m the sexiest woman he’s ever laid eyes on, does funny things to me.

No one has made me feel so damn desired in so long. I internally shake my head, getting a better grip on myself. This has to be the post-sex fog. Where’s my clarity, damn it? I got off three times, I should have a clear mind and make good decisions. Starting with walking away and making my grand escape before I let this psycho lure me back to his place.

“Until next time?” he asks with the tilt of his lips and hope in his tone.

Fat chance. I'm a one-time kind of gal, especially in this town. Besides, I can’t get too attached. To anyone. The last time that happened, it went up in flames. Literally.

“I'm leaving on Sunday.” This version of me, anyways.

If he is around, he'll never know it's me. Hopefully, he won't be anywhere near Greenwood U. I can't have him sniffing me out for another amazing round of amazing sex. Fuck.

“To where?” he inquires, stepping closer. “Can I come? Follow you there? I can live in your closet. Just feed me and let me eat you for dinner and…”

I startle. Wait! What kind of dinner are we talking about? Like between my legs for dinner? Because that doesn’t sound half bad. I can see it now. Me spread out on the dinner table with Malic between my legs, and maybe Wilder watching from the shadows with… I wrinkle my nose at the thought. Why did my mind go there? Wilder is an asshole. Always has been. Especially with Mack. But fuck that guy. You know what? Fuck them both. I don’t need to dip into any more insanity.

Well, more than I already have.

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

The last thing I need is Malic living in my closet, begging for bread and pussy on the regular. What the hell did I get intobed with? Or… on the bathroom counter with? Jesus. I was right before; he is giving major psycho vibes. But damn, he was good. Too good. Almost hazardous for my health. He reminds me of my cousin Jericho's little friend, Arrow. Now, he's a true psycho. Except Malic is more. There's something deep in his eyes, giving him away.

I remove my hand, revealing a pout on his lips. “How can I keep you if you're leaving?”

Whoa. Keep me? Yeah, time to get the hell out of dodge and vacate the bathroom before he drugs me, takes me back to his bedroom, handcuffs me to a radiator, and never lets me go.

Just as I'm about to open my mouth to retort, someone pounds on the bathroom door with force, shaking the wood and threatening to ram through.

“Malic?” Wilder grunts, knocking viciously like the big, bad Malic would find trouble in the women's bathroom and wouldn't be able to handle himself.

“Bummer, Crumpet. Looks like our time has come to a dreadful end,” he sighs, grabbing the front of my shirt and bringing me forward. Before I can breathe, his lips are on mine, leaving their mark. “Until next time,” he whispers with a promise—Or threat? I'm not entirely sure, and releases my shirt. “Now, if you'll excuse me. My keeper and I need to have a few words.”

His keeper?

Also. There won’t be a next time. Not now or ever.

Malic unlocks the bathroom door and swings it wide open, revealing Wilder standing on the other side with his fist raised. An unlit cigarette hangs loosely from his lips as he narrows his eyes on Malic and then on me. His storm grey blue eyes check me over from head to toe, scrutinizing my wrinkled clothes and hair.

I frown, running a hand down my shirt and straightening my appearance up. I’m sure once I walk out into the bar, they’ll know exactly what we did back here.

“Malic.” His chest heaves with a big breath, concern crossing his features. Well, until he turns to me again. “And…” he trails off, looking at my disheveled shirt and messy hair. He visibly reels back, the cigarette dropping to the ground.

“Wilder. You're interrupting,” Malic grumbles, waving a hand. “Go back to…”

“We need to talk. In private,” Wilder rushes out, interrupting what Malic was about to say, which is fine because I'd rather slip away from here and go back to my hotel.

Malic immediately straightens, losing his cool demeanor.

“Do we?”

Wilder rolls his eyes and plucks his cigarette off the ground. “I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it.”