Page 63 of Trapped With You

“Never heard you complaining about my sexual appetite when we were together.” A cocky smirk flitted across his lips and he leaned forward, crowding me against the wall. “In fact, I recall you being an eager participant in our trysts. Remember that night I made you come three times in a row like a dirty little princess?”

Holy hell did I ever. My toes curled recalling the night he fucked me on his motorcycle under the moonlight. “No, actually. I have amnesia where you’re concerned. Also, calling me princess again? That’s three strikes.”

“What are you going to do about it?” His hand shot out to cup my jaw and his minty breath fanned over my mouth.

“Well, since the threats of kneeing you in the balls and pushing you down the bell tower haven’t worked, I’ll have to resort to even more drastic measures.” I sighed mockingly. “I’mgoing to set your beloved Ferrari on fire.”

Cade played along, mock-gasping. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’ve got three options. Pick one. I’m being generous.”

“Not the Ferrari.” He gave me a suggestive once-over. “We have too many fond memories in it.”

Ah, yes. Like bending me over the hood of it after a night of debauchery. “I guess I’m pushing you down the bell tower. Any last words?”

“If I die tonight, I’m haunting you for the rest of your life,” Cade promised in a deliciously dark tone. “Until I can have you with me again,mo chuisle.”

It was so twisted, yet a part of me loved it. “You’re so predictable. That’s exactly the kind of behaviour I expect from your possessive ass.”

“Is that so?”

I pushed his hand away from my jaw. “We all know you have stalkerish tendencies. Since our breakup, you’ve followed me around the city.” I threw him a glare and turned around to grab the shovel. “You’re not sly, Cade.”

He hushed in my ear, “I wasn’t trying to be.”

They were the same words I told him three years ago at the start of my obsession.

I inhaled shakily, concentrating on anything but the sexual tension brewing between us. “Look at the time. We’ve already wasted five minutes going back and forth over your funeral.”

“Flirting with you is never wasted time, pretty girl.”

I was a strong woman. Or I was trying to be. But if this man didn’t stop, I was going to lose my sanity. “Enough chit-chatting. We have a competition to win.”

Cade removed the dare from the shovel and read it. “Dig your own…”

There was only one thing you dug with a shovel on an occasion like this.

We caught on at the same time.

His eyes rose to mine with a knowing glint.

“Grave,” I finished for us. “Dig your own grave.”

As I completed the sentence, a cold breeze sailed through the belfry like a bad omen.

“We’ll have to go into the woods.”

Wordlessly, we both peered out an arched opening. St. Victoria’s woodlands spanned a large chunk of its territory, safe-keeping an abandoned chapel, a decrepit resting place for those who burned in the fire decades ago, and several otherworldly secrets.

“The next dare is in the cemetery,” I said and Cade nodded, watching the moon shine beyond the veil of murky clouds. “I hope we’re not digging up a real grave because that’s fucked-up even by Initiation Night standards.”

In all my years of playing this game, I never received such a morbid dare.

Darla and Shaun didn’t create the blueprint for tonight. There was an entire rulebook on Initiation Night that was passed down from one pair of alumni captains to the next. A lot of these dares had been in existence for decades and got recycled every few years.

“Are you going to give up if that’s what it comes down to?”

I respected the dead and didn’t want to disturb anyone’s resting place. But at the same time… “I’ve never been a quitter, Cade.”