I walk out of the school like any other student leaving after a long day of classes. It’s not until I get into my car, a rented Audi, that I check the unread messages on my phone. There’s one from Quinn. She wants to meet. Correction. Dante wants to meet, and he wants me to think it’s Quinn asking.
Of course, he’d go through her to get to me.
It was only a matter of time before Dante caught up with me. I’m not covering my tracks too well these days. Any dickhead with two brain cells could find me.
Follow the trail of cold bodies and horny teenage boys.
I’m relishing the moment we face each other again. I need to know what I’m up against. Why is he even still stalking me? I keep tabs on Polina so I know she hasn’t retracted her hit on me. But my old mentor shouldn’t be trying this hard to find me.
He saved my life once, and then he tried to kill me.
We should be even.
I hit drive and pull out of the school parking lot.
I don’t go straight to the boys’ place. I never go straight to where I’m staying. Tedious I know, but you never know who is following. I drive to a service station in the opposite direction, sit in a cafe drinking bad coffee, before taking the long-winded route back home.
When I finally park up outsidethe three-storey colonial-style frat house, the lights are off. Lorcan is away on a family retreat that he goes to every winter. Jude is out with some girl. Dino, the boy scout of the hour, is probably still cleaning the body. It can take hours, and without help, it’s back-breaking work.
Poor fucking sod.
Upstairs, I strip and shower. The water is as cold as I can take it, waking up my senses. The calm I felt earlier in the classroom is all but gone. In its place is exhaustion, mixed with desire bubbling just beneath the surface. Already my skin itches. My thoughts fly to my next fix, like a junkie. Or a person with an obsessive-compulsive disorder. I’m only content when things make sense. And killing makes sense to me. It’s all about control.
I’m barely out of the shower two minutes before the front door bangs shut and someone takes the stairs two at a time. Dino bursts in without so much as a polite fucking knock.
“Can I help you?” I intone at him while he stumbles to a halt, mouth hanging open. His face is an absolute picture. He wasn’t expecting me to be here. I start to get dressed, letting the towel fall away to the floor because I can.
It’s all about control.
“I should have knocked,” he says as his gaze races over my slick, naked body, no doubt burning every inch into his wank bank. Dino is the only one I can abuse this way. Jude would have me against the wall in a heartbeat. Lorcan would do something equally enticing, like strip naked too.
Only Dino would stand there with a hard-on, and do nothing.
I’ve no idea why they call him sinner. Around me, he’s far from sinful. In fact, he’s the exact opposite.
“You should have,” I say in agreement, taking in his disheveled, unkempt appearance. He must have come straight from cleaning up because there’s blood on his neck where he missed a spot.
Instantly, I’m horny.
He must see the desire in my face because his eyes suddenly darken.
“You know, after the horror show you left, you fucking owe me.” He stalks closer, eyeing me like a man dying of thirst and I’m the oasis in the desert.
So he’s horny too.
He’s also pissed. Maybe clicking my fingers and having him clean up after me all winter while Lorcan is away was a step too far?
“Touch me and I’ll hurt you,” I say, looking up at him.
“With what? You’re completely naked and defenseless.”
“I’m not defenseless,” I snort.
“Aren’t you?” He takes me by the wrist and pulls me close to him, the other arm wrapping around my body. I’m so turned on, I let him. “I warned you, I’m not going to wait. The moment you let your guard down, you’re mine.” He bends down to kiss me.
I struggle for a moment against him. But he’s hot, and I’m ice fucking cold. I relax into the heat of his body, drowning in the sensation of his lips on mine, his strong, rough hands pinning me in place, his presence pulling me into a state of intensity. He’s broad and tall for an eighteen-year-old. It’s not lost on me how easily he holds me with just one hand while the other massages my wet skin.
I lied. Dino is as sinful as the rest of them.