“Don’t turn your back on me, Mia. You know perfectly well what I’ll do if you run.”
She flips her hair and flips me off.
A sadistic grin lifts my lips.
Mia will run, and not only will I catch her, but I’ll also fuck her until she can’t move.
Until she understands there’s no other cock that’ll be inside her but mine.
19
MIA
The asshole is out for blood.
There’s no other civil way to describe whatever the hell is going on in the psycho’s head.
He’s the most unpredictable, lethal person I’ve ever come across, and that might or might not include the monster from my past.
And this is coming from me, who was literally raised within the New York Russian mafia.
Landon is downright insane, but I’m not entirely sane either, because I’m baiting him. I’m flaunting my tail in the same provocative language he speaks, waiting—no, needing him to come after me.
Chase me.
Inject my veins with that shot of ecstasy only he can provide.
I drive at full speed down the empty streets. Lights blur in my peripheral vision, adding a mystic vibe to the dangerous night. For more reasons than one.
My nostrils flare at the image of Landon attempting to kiss Cecily.
We have a date. That’s what he said, even though he doesn’t do those, even if he were held at gunpoint. He prefers the thrill of the unknown, the intensity, and sexual preferences that are socially frowned upon.
He’s all about the carnal and never about the emotions.
But then again, Cecily is soft and posh. His childhood friend, no less. He probably wouldn’t touch her crudely and whisper filthy words as he fucked her mouth.
He wouldn’t strip her down and build her back up again just so he could do it all over again.
A black car appears in my rearview mirror, looking larger than a vengeful crow.
I hit the accelerator as hard as possible, but while I love my Mercedes SUV, it doesn’t compare to the power of a sports McLaren.
Landon catches up to me in seconds and slows to my speed as he drives parallel to me. We’re definitely not on a one-way road.
I look at him with a “What the fuck are you doing?” gaze.
“Chasing you, muse.” His grin could only belong to Satan himself.
I release the accelerator, letting myself fall behind, but he does the same, so I hit it again and speed up all of a sudden until my body glues to the seat.
Once again, Landon keeps my pace, still smirking with unmasked sadism. I’ve come to recognize that look as savage lust. It’s the look he sports whenever he chases me or chokes me to within an inch of my life.
My thighs clench, and I blame it on muscle memory. It can’t be anything else. I refuse to believe it is.
Headlights flash on the other side of the road, as in, the side that Landon shouldn’t be driving on.
I glance at him.
Move.
Go.
“Move!” I sign with one hand.
He doesn’t.
What the hell? Is he really planning to kill himself?
“The ball’s in your court.”
“What?” I sign with one hand.
“My decision will depend on where you drive. Here’s a hint, go to where you were supposed to be yesterday!” he shouts over the blaring honks of the other car.
I do the “Okay” sign with a trembling finger. Right in the nick of time, he hits the brakes and swerves back behind me.
My forehead and back break out in a sweat, my fingers shake on the steering wheel, and my foot is unsteady on the brakes as I lower my speed.
I can’t for the life of me drive normally when my whole body is in a state of shock, but I do the best I can, and Landon follows me, not attempting to overtake me or ride beside me.
As soon as I arrive in front of the haunted house, I’m surprised by the lights illuminating the hideous garden with snake-like leaves and ghost trees that have fallen to their imminent death. But then I catch a glimpse of my newly planted flower beds, still alive and slowly growing compared to the last time I saw them.
They’re the only thing I missed about this place.
Or are they?
I step out of the car on shaky legs. Landon takes his time to climb out of his stupid McLaren, his demeanor detached at best.
I get in his face and sign wildly, “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“Bringing you back where you belong.” He slowly and leisurely removes the mask from around his neck and slides his fingers across the golden decoration. “We wouldn’t have gotten to this stage if you weren’t playing a pointless episode of cat and mouse.”
I shove at his chest with all my might. “My choice to come here or not is mine, not yours or anyone else’s.”
Strong fingers wrap around my elbow and he tugs so that I fall against his chiseled chest muscles. “Your choice ended the moment you walked into my life. Your thoughts, your temper, and the very marrow of your existence belong to me now.”
I shake my head vehemently.
“Denying the truth doesn’t make it any less viable. I advise you to get used to my role in your life, because it won’t disappear anytime soon.”
I punch him across the chest. A rumble rips from deep within him and he imprisons my hand, then crushes it so the fist is flattened against his pectoral muscle.
“Don’t. Your adorable fight turns me on, and that’s not a wise idea when I’m already bursting with unfulfilled energy.” He releases me and steps back. “Now, do as you promised. Run.”
“Go chase one of your other girls,” I sign with more energy than needed. “I’m too special to be lumped in with your side pieces.”
There, I said it.
Finally. The words I’ve been thinking about for days are out in the open. The ache I felt when I overheard him with that Nila. The absolute rage and pain I experienced when I saw him on the verge of kissing Cecily.
I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but one of Jeremy’s men called and told him that Landon was with Cecily. Jeremy had this terrifying expression when he left. My anger must’ve matched his when I hopped in my car and followed along.
An inexplicable urge flows through me. A rush that’s impossible to shake off or ignore.
And it goes by the name of Landon freaking King.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve been avoiding him. I’ve been thinking about him and his texts and his damn presence every second.
This is what it feels like to be addicted, doesn’t it?
But no matter how attracted I am to the slimy bastard, I’d cut off my own legs before I’d let him step all over me.
“Side piece?” He approaches me, his eyes darkening to the color of ravens and crows and expelling the same ominous energy.
He stops in front of me and lifts my chin with his curled forefinger. “I can sleep with anyone on this planet. Hell, I have an extensive repertoire of women begging to suck my cock if I were to so much as look in their direction. But I don’t even acknowledge their existence. These lips are the only lips I want to be wrapped around my cock. This face is the only face I want to be marked with my cum. You think I would put all this effort into someone as difficult as you if you were only a side piece?”
“You won’t touch anyone but me.” Not a question, but a demand.
And yet he answers, “I won’t.”
Simply. Without any of his infuriating conditions, bets, or ultimatums.
“You won’t touch anyone but me either, or we’ll have a very serious, very bloody problem.”
“Stop being so psychotic.”
“Stop being so cute.”
My mouth falls open and the skin he touches explodes in a thousand tingles. I sink my teeth into the cushion of my bottom lip in a hopeless attempt to control my reaction.
His weird acceptance of the situation is enough to wash away the doubts I’ve been drowning in for the past few days.
It’s enough to fill my muscles with a foreign need. A need so empowering, it hums beneath the flesh.
Landon leans forward and whispers in dark words against the shell of my ear, “Run, little muse and run as fast you can. Tonight, I’ll fuck all the other cocks out of your memory.”