Sweet Obsession (Ruthless Games 1)

I can’t quite figure out how I feel about the fact that Theo knows I fucked his friend. All of this is such a jumbled up mess that nothing makes logical sense. Nothing fits the normal rules of behavior.

Trying to shove down the flush I can feel coloring my cheeks, I twist a little to open the door with my left hand and then slide off the heated seat and into the cool night air outside my apartment.

I push the car door shut, and as it closes with a thunk, the window rolls down again. Theo dips his head, dropping it nearly sideways so he can grin up at me.

“Goodnight, Rose. Sleep tight.”

I give him a jerky nod, rattled by his use of a nickname for me. It’s the same thing he called me at the bar, and the easy familiarity of it unnerves me.

Without saying anything else, I turn and hurry up to my apartment, fishing my keys from my pocket. The 3B decal is still somewhere in Marcus’s house, resting wherever it landed when I hurled it at the floor.

The memory of why I went over to his house in the first place, along with everything else that happened after I arrived, makes me feel suddenly exhausted. The day I spent doing boring office work downtow

n feels like another lifetime entirely, not something that happened less than twenty-four hours ago.

So much has happened since then.

So much has changed.

With a sharp shake of my head, I wrench the door of my building open and dart inside quickly. Once I’m safely tucked away in my own apartment, I chuck my keys on the coffee table and sink down onto the couch.

I sit there for a few minutes, letting the rough, worn fabric of the cushion beneath my palm ground me.

Then I dig into my back pocket and pull my cell phone out. Resting it on my lap, I type in the number that Theo gave me and hit “add new contact.”

I don’t know why I do it.

I’m never going to call him.

Chapter 11

Earth and air.

Rich brown and soft blue.

Marcus gazes down at me, his hands cradling my face.

Those beautiful, shocking eyes are glassy, and a tear slips down his cheek, cutting a path through the three streaks of blood that mar his face.

“Stay with me, Ayla. Stay with me.”

His voice is harsh and broken, his words growing muffled as the world starts to slip away.

Behind him, I see Theo’s crooked smile turn into a grimace of pain as he watches me die. Ryland’s face is contorted with fury, but for the first time, that fury isn’t directed at me. It’s for whoever killed me. Whoever did this to me.

“Please, angel.” Marcus grips my face tighter, lifting it toward his as his lips find mine. I taste copper and salt as blood and tears mix on my tongue. “Please don’t fucking leave me. Don’t let go.”

I can feel his weight over me. I can feel his cock driving into me.

Pleasure and pain light up every nerve ending in my body, and it’s almost enough to keep me from fading away. I wrap my arms around him, the fingernails of both hands digging into his back, trying to bring him closer.

Closer.

But already, I can feel the nerves of my right arm fraying, the internal bleeding cutting off circulation to the limb.

I’m dying.

I’m falling.