Stealing His Heart(57)

She watched him suspiciously, her brows low. “Not if you were the last man on earth, and we were the only ones left to carry on the human race. Not if God himself came down from the clouds and asked me nicely. Not if—”

“—there was a zombie apocalypse?”

“I’d sooner eat your rotting flesh,” she said in a rush.

His lips twitched, and he let out a laugh. She looked at him in surprise. “See? That’s one of the reasons I need you. You make me laugh when I’d thought I forgot how.”

“So do funny movies.” She stood up. “I suggest you watch one of them and leave me out of it. I’m not yours anymore.”

Yes, she was.

He stalked toward her. She backed against the brick wall. She’d retreated, but she still stared at him defiantly. As if she wasn’t scared of anything he might do to her. As if he held no power over her anymore. If it she didn’t give a shit about him anymore?

He was fucked.

Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her sweet scent. She shivered and gripped his shoulders, a small sound escaping her lips. He waited for her to push him away. To reject him. But she didn’t. He nibbled on her shoulder, right next to her bikini strap. “You said you wanted to save me. I figured out how you can do that. Don’t send me away.” He pulled back. “Don’t shut me out now. Save me.”

She wiggled free. “It’s too late. You’re too late.”

She shut the door, and he covered his face with his hands, taking a steadying breath. Okay. That hadn’t gone as well as he’d planned, but that was all right. He’d do better next time. She needed to a few hours to come to terms with his presence, and then he’d come back. But first? He’d plan his next attack.

This was a war of sorts.

One he had every intention of winning.





Chapter Seventeen

Two freaking days.

That’s how long Jake had been showing up on her doorstep. She’d rejected him each and every time, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Whenever she heard his voice through her door, her resolve to resist him died a bit more.

So did her anger.

Tara shut down the shower, dried off, and pulled a yellow sundress over her head. Crossing the room barefoot, she turned and flopped back on the bed. How long would it be until her doorbell rang again? Or would he call her and whisper naughty things in her ear, telling her with vivid detail how much he wanted to strip her naked and lick every single inch of her?

Twice.

She shouldn’t want to give him another chance. Shouldn’t want him at all. If she bent for him, if she became his in every way, she’d have to stop thieving. She’d have to go straight. He’d make her. He’d insist on changing her. And she didn’t want to change.

But yet, she did.

For that short time she’d been his, she had wanted something more out of life than the next thrill. She’d seen a future with Jake, one with kids playing in his backyard. One where she wasn’t in danger of going to jail every time she reported for work.

And she’d wanted it so badly.

The doorbell rang. It would be him. She didn’t move off the bed. Eventually, he would go away. He always did. But this time…he didn’t. He kept ringing the bell. After five minutes, her phone dinged. She picked it up with bated breath.

It was a text from Jake. Open the door. I left a present. Don’t leave it in the heat.

A present that couldn’t be left in heat. What the heck could it be?

Holding her phone to her chest, she went downstairs and peeked out the peephole. He was gone, but the package he’d texted her about sat on her doorstep. She drummed her fingers on the wall. It could be a trap. Maybe he planned to force his way in as soon as she unlocked the door. But she couldn’t not open the door.

Not without knowing what was in the package.

He knew that about her, too. Sneaky bastard.

Slowly, she undid the lock and crept onto the porch. Bending down, she studied the box. It was about the size of a case of beer, and it had holes poked in the top. Heart racing with excitement, she grabbed the package and backed into the house, her attention darting all around her yard. Looking for him.

If he was still there, he’d hidden well. After she closed the door behind her, she set the box down, sat down beside it, and tore it open. It was…

A kitten. He’d gotten her a kitten. A little fluffy orange fur ball of a kitten. It had bright blue eyes, and it meowed as soon as she lifted the cardboard.

“Hello, kitty.” She smiled at the creature. “You’re so cute.”

He snuggled in her lap, looking all too content to do so. Tara petted him and hugged him close, her mind racing. Of all the things she had suspected might be on her porch, a kitten was not one of them. The cat was the live version of the stuffed animal he’d won her at the carnival last week. He even had a blue collar on his neck, just like the fake one, and a name tag.