Kinked (Elder Races, #6)

“Now you’re fucking around with me. You know you couldn’t do it.” He came around the table at her.

His predatory instinct had kicked in. Ooh, she should probably flutter around and act all flustered. Instead her eyes widened. “Not any more than you could?”

He circled her, as if assessing her physical attributes. “We’ve been down this road already.”

“Have we?” He had reached her back, where he paused, standing in utter silence. He was trying to rattle her. It wasn’t working. She stood still, arms crossed, in an appearance of relaxation while inside, adrenaline kicked in. Okay, maybe it was working a little. “I propose a different turn down that road. But of course, if you’re not interested, we can stop talking about it right now and hit the sack.”

He was interested. She could sense it pouring off him. He circled around to face her again, appearing casual again, except she knew better. The pulse at the base of his jaw pounded. He drawled, “I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath. “We hold an experiment and set a time limit. We get fifteen minutes each of total control over the other person. You think you could handle that?”

Once she had thought of the idea, she couldn’t stop. Surely fifteen minutes was doable. She could do almost anything for that long, including holding her breath. It would totally be worth it to own fifteen minutes of his ass.

Quentin looked suspicious. After he thought for a moment, he said, “Fine. On one condition. Your time comes first.”

“You wish.” She snorted. “We’ll do a coin toss.”

“No coin toss. You brought it up. They’re your terms. You go first.” His smile had turned catlike in anticipation. “Besides, you’ve bloodied me twice. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you anything. You pounded my head on the pavement and throttled me. Twice.”

“You pinned me against a metal door with your fucking talons, for God’s sake.” He moved so close, he was in her face. They stood toe-to-toe, looking in each other’s eyes. “You punched me.”

“You punched me first,” she pointed out. It had been a hell of a strike too, much faster than she had expected. She had admired that—and made a point to never forget it.

“Are we going to keep going like this forever, or are you going to strike the bargain you offered?” He gave her a hard smile that glittered in the firelight, put a finger under her chin and tilted her face just so. Then his mouth came to hover over hers, their skin barely touching. He whispered, “Give it up, Aryal.”

Her breath came short and fast, and he had to know it, because the only way he could be closer to her was if he were French-kissing her. He started to laugh again, only this time it sounded angry. He really did think she had just been fucking with him.

She said, “Deal.”

He froze.

It was her turn to laugh. She always loved the feeling of cutting loose, no matter where she found it. Jumping off a cliff, starting a chase, losing all the doubts and questions and analyses. She was the original Nike girl. Just doing it.

She might not trust him, but she trusted her own judgment. He wouldn’t kill her. There was no way he could do it in this kind of setting and hope to sell it as an accident to Dragos back home, and besides, he had been telling the truth about that earlier. Just like her, he’d had the impulse and given it up.

If he hurt her really badly, he was going to have to cut her loose at some point, and then it was his turn.

And if he tried to renege on his part of the bargain, well.

Hell hath no fury like a harpy who’s been fucked over.

“Fifteen minutes,” she told him. “Set your iPhone’s clock when you’re ready to start. We wouldn’t want to lose track of such a short amount of time.”

Inside, her heart was leaping about like a jackrabbit. If she could have pounced on it to make it stop, she would have. How badly was she going to hate this? She needed to keep her eye on the prize—her time with him, or a real sense of righteousness as she kicked his ass.

Angling his head, looking the very picture of incredulity, he backed up, dug in his pack until he found his iPhone, turned it on and programmed it. His thumb hovering over the screen, he glanced up. Anticipation had sharpened his lean features until he looked even more predatory than ever. “Last chance to back out.”

Surprised that he even offered, she snorted, the sound derisive. “It’s just fifteen minutes. You’re not that scary. Do it.”

He pressed the iPhone. Held it up and showed it to her. Fifteen minutes were counting down on the screen. Carefully he set it on the table.

Then he sprang at her, and even though she had been expecting him to do something, somehow she hadn’t been ready for his incredible speed. He pushed her back until she hit the wall. Already they were both breathing heavily, as if they had been fighting for a very long time.