Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(36)



Her hand moved. She’d laid on him without moving a single muscle, almost as if her body had melted into his. Now, her hand stroked down his shoulder, over his biceps. He felt that touch burn through sinew into bone.


“I don’t know where to go, Trap. I know that’s your home, not mine. But I don’t know where to go,” she whispered, choking out the admission.


His hold tightened on her and he found himself frowning. “Is that what this storm is all about? Baby, I had that apartment built for you. I chose every piece of furniture down there. For you. It belongs to you.”


He heard – and felt – her breath hitch. Very slowly she lifted her head, her tear-drenched green eyes searching his blue ones. “Trap.” She whispered his name. Disbelieving. “You did?”


“What the hell am I going to do with all that girlie shit, baby? I knew you were using the basement. I don’t like you in it, but I reinforced the walls against flooding just in case. Still, eventually, I hope to lure you upstairs with me. I’m giving you fair warning about that. I want you in my bed, and I’m not going to play bullshit games. Right now, you need your space, and I’m going to give it to you as long as I can. So yeah, that apartment is all yours. I won’t go down there unless you invite me.”


“Really?”


This time her voice was breathless. The sound shot straight to his cock. He was stark naked and he didn’t need that happening. Not now. Not when she needed reassurance and a gentle hand. He wasn’t a gentle lover. He was demanding. As bossy and as abrupt in bed as he was outside of it. He didn’t want to scare her away.


“I just said it. I don’t like bullshit, Cayenne. When you want or need something, you have to come out and tell me. I’ll do the same. I don’t want you robbing people. I want you safe, with a roof over your head. I want you warm with food in your belly. I don’t have a clue what women need in the clothes department, so I’m setting up a little safe in the kitchen. It’ll always have cash in it. You need something, either put it on a list and I’ll do my best, or take the cash and buy what you need.”


She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her cheeks were wet and splotchy. He thought she was beautiful. He had to fight the urge to kiss her.


“I don’t know how to do that. Or where to go to do it. I’ve never left the swamp,” she confessed. “I stole these clothes off a line, and I’m always afraid I’ll run into the woman and she’ll know I took them even though I left her money twice.”


She sounded ashamed. He had hoped he could get her to see that stealing was wrong. He realized she knew stealing was wrong, but she’d been desperate. He didn’t like her feeling ashamed.


“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll go into town together and get you clothes. You’re a fast learner and I have no doubt you’ll learn all about shopping.”


She blinked rapidly, her dark lashes fluttering, drawing his attention to their length. Beautiful. He loved her face. He could look at it forever. Perfect symmetry. High cheekbones. Oval shape. That generous, generous mouth with her bowed lips. Small straight nose. Her large, f*ck-me-all-night eyes surrounded by long, feathery lashes.


“I don’t like to go where there are a lot of people. That’s why I chose the Huracan Club to hunt – that and they have peanuts for free and he sells burgers. There weren’t a lot of people to choose from to rob, but I can’t control or manipulate a large group of people with my voice and I didn’t feel safe out in the open. The club was deep in the swamp.”


“We’ll get you past that, Cayenne. That’s one thing we’re going to do. Make certain you feel safe. You’ll have to know what’s coming at you now.”


She blinked again. “Coming at me?”


“You’re mine. You gave yourself to me, and I’ll be damned if I let you take that gift back. You can have time, baby, but you don’t have a lot of time. I told you I’d tell you about my life when you’re lying next to me in bed, and I will. But you have to know now that I have enemies and they’ll come after you to hurt me. Caring about you makes me vulnerable. I haven’t been vulnerable in a long time, not since they murdered my aunt when I was very young.”


“Why do you care about me?”


He should have known she would dismiss the danger. Cayenne wasn’t afraid. She had all the confidence in the world as a warrior. She didn’t have confidence in herself as a woman – a human woman.


His fingers tightened in her hair. Fisted. Forced her head back exactly where he wanted it, his eyes boring into hers. Claiming her. Possessive. She needed to see that about him. He didn’t let many people into his life, but he was utterly loyal to those he did. He had never claimed a woman for his own, had never wanted one enough to risk her or to fight for her, but all that had changed.


He was fierce in battle. Ice-cold, but ferocious and relentless. He’d learned every skill he could so he was always prepared for anything. Prepared for this moment. This claiming. His woman. The woman he never believed he’d have.


“I’ll never let you go, Cayenne. You’ll be as much a prisoner with me as you were in that cell. I can teach you to live life large. To live it free. But I won’t let you go. We have trouble, you don’t like something, baby, you’ll have to learn to talk to me. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy, but you’re mine, you stay mine.”

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