Chapter 65

We almost trip over each other in our haste

to follow him. In the stairwell, he slows down enough to quiet his

steps and we tiptoe after him, Dylan’s hand curved around the back

of my thigh possessively. At the top of the steps, that hand slides

between my leg, rubbing at hidden flesh, and this time it’s

mewho stumbles through the doorway, I can’t seem to

remember how to walk. “Watch it, babe,” Dylan purrs. I don’t have

to turn around to see his smile—I can hear it in his voice.

Ahead, Ellington storms down the darkened

corridor towards the men’s quarters and Dylan pulls me along after

him. But before we reach the sleeping room, Ellington turns and

disappears into a narrow serviceway. “Where—” I start, but Dylan

ducks around the corner, me right behind him. I try to stand my

ground and can’t. “Dylan, wait.”

The serviceway is pitch black, so dark my

eyes almost hurt and I look behind me to make sure I haven’t been