Dark Hearts (Light in the Dark 3)

“What do you want?” she asks through clenched teeth. Her words convey disintere

st, but her body says otherwise.

The uneven rise and fall of her chest says I’m getting to her.

The flutter of her lashes against her cheeks says she’s struggling to remain composed.

The slight dig of her teeth into her bottom lip tells me she’s turned on.

I press one of my legs in-between hers and when she moans I fucking own that sound.

I lower my head to her neck and dig my teeth into the sensitive skin there. She jumps as I bear down. It doesn’t hurt her, but it will leave a mark, and that’s what I want.

“I like games.” I graze the shell of her ear with my lips, then nibble on the lobe. “So, keep running—because I’m going to win. I always win.”

I release her, reveling in her small gasp, and I walk back to the elevator.

When I step inside and turn around I find that she’s watching.

I smirk and salute her with two fingers.

This isn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Nova

“Run the ball! I said run the ball, dammit!” Thea yells, pointing her finger angrily at one of the guys on the field.

I’m surprised she still has a voice at this point.

Our seats are near the field and fairly close to where the guys sit.

“Xander!” Thea screams at her husband where he sits on the bench. “They’re idiots!”

Xander either ignores her or doesn’t hear her, but Thea is not deterred.

When our team loses the ball, she screams shrilly, “Are you fucking kidding me? Idiots! You’re all idiots!”

“Excuse me,” someone in front of us says. “But there are children around, so could you keep the vulgar language to yourself?”

Thea fumes. “Bite me.”

Rae sighs and smiles politely at the woman. “I’m sorry. We’ll try to keep her down.”

“Keep me down,” Thea repeats and snorts. “Good luck.”

I adjust my baseball cap—with the team colors and logo on it—and wiggle in my seat. I even bought a jersey to wear—are football shirts called jerseys? They are, aren’t they?

I turn, my mouth open, poised to ask Jace—who sits beside me, yippee—and then realize I’m not talking to him.

I hastily turn back in my seat to face the field, but not before I miss the flash of his smile.

“Something you wanna say?” he prompts.

I shake my head.

Ignoring him might be childish, but it’s all I have. Every time I open my mouth my words go over his head.