126. Wanna Have a taste?

Continued...

And then—she saw him.

Not at a safe, comfortable distance in the meadow behind her house.

He had moved. Closer. So much closer.

The amusement she had felt just moments ago vanished in an instant, swallowed by the slow, creeping tendrils of something much darker.

For the first time since this twisted game began, she wondered—

Had she just made a mistake?

The very real manifestation of her nightmares now stood at the steps of her patio, directly before her and much closer. They were practically face to face now.

The consequences of her reckless actions suddenly become very real to Rose as she felt the effect of drugs lessen a bit more.

Maybe this wasn't as bright an idea as I thought this was. Still, not completely bad, at least now I know for a fact that I hold his undivided attention.

And although contrary to what Rose had expected to feel, even as her mind sluggishly clawed its way back to sanity, she found herself teetering on the edge of fear and exhilaration.

The apprehension remained, simmering beneath the surface, yet it mingled with an intoxicating sense of power—an undeniable thrill that sent shivers down her spine.

The realization sent a strange pulse through her veins: she was dancing with danger, and for reasons she couldn't explain, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to stop.

She was playing with fire, and she knew it. Even in her current state, she wasn't oblivious to the danger she was inviting. Rose was teetering on the edge of something reckless, something that promised to scorch her if she got too close.

But if the flames were inevitable, then at least she could find solace in knowing she was the only one caught in the blaze, and not someone she loved.

Rose's eyes locked onto his, a silent battle waged between them, unspoken challenges threading through the space that separated them.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself onto the chair she had placed in front of the glass doors, sinking into it like she was settling onto a throne. A queen in her own right.

She wouldn't let him see her fear tonight.

No.

Tonight, she was in control.

With an air of calculated confidence, Rose reclined against the chair as legs coming apart, fingers curling around the cool wooden cross in her grip. 

Her knuckles flexed as she brought it between her thighs, letting it dangle lazily in the space between her parted legs. A sinful taunt wrapped in the guise of faith.

The moment she did, she caught the way his body tensed, fingers curling around the wooden rail of the patio steps. The sharp strain of his grip made the veins along his forearm stand out, black tattoos twisting like inky serpents over his pale skin.

Oh, he was definitely struggling.

A slow, knowing smirk curled at the edge of her lips.

Good.

She tilted her head slightly, watching him through half-lidded eyes, mirroring his own unwavering gaze. Watching him almost as closely as he did her. 

And now with such small distance and only a spotless glass left between them, she could see every contour and every little movement of his body. 

She had always suspected he was lean beneath those effortlessly casual clothes, but now, with the closer proximity and the faint glimmers of moonlight outlining him, she could see the subtle yet undeniable evidence of raw strength.

The snug fabric of his hoodie stretched just enough to hint at the sculpted ridges of muscle beneath, the sharp definition of his forearms betraying his power. 

He wasn't overly bulky, but she had no doubt that beneath that deceptively relaxed stance lay a body honed with precision—lean, strong, and far too enticing for the monster that he was.

Abort! Wrong line of thoughts! I am here to entice *him* not get enticed *by* him, stupid, horny drugged-up brain!

Determined to regain her upper hand, Rose lifted her chin in defiance, lips parting to spill out another perfectly sharpened taunt.

"Like what you see, my dear stalker?" Her voice dripped with challenge, each syllable deliberately slow, teasing.

She watched him carefully, noting the way his shoulders subtly squared, the way his stance remained eerily still, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He could hear her. She knew he could.

So she pushed further.

"Wanna have a taste?" she whispered, tilting her head, the soft waves of her hair slipping over her bare shoulders and landing on the swell of her near-fully exposed breasts in the push up bra. 

"Why don't you come and take it?"