Christ.Does this guy control the weather too?Wouldn’t surprise me. This man is a certified psychopath, a manipulative liar. Bending my thoughts like a storm front.
The Range Rover looms larger with each stride, a glossy black, impossible to penetrate with your vision. He could be inside grinning, or crouched in the trees with his ink, letting me walk right into his mobile den of vipers.
Each breath is more difficult than the last, as if I’m sucking in tear gas instead of oxygen. My knuckles rap on the black driver's-side door. No answer.
I knock again, then after a few seconds that last an eternity, the window rolls down.
He’s sporting black sunglasses, even though the day is as dark as his ink. His mullet’s tousled, messy in his punk way. Rocking a sleeveless black tee, completely on brand for him. I swear that the snakes are swarming to his wrists, slithering in circles, their tongues hissing, waiting for me to show my face.
“Can I help you, Lover Boy?” he smirks, lips wet as his tongue drags across them.
“Yes,” I snap, pulse breaking. “Why the fuck are you stalking me?”
He tips his head, cheeky and arrogant like. “I’m literally parked on a street. How does that qualify as stalking?”
That infuriating smile spreads wider, as if he’s proud of how easily he can twist the truth. Like gaslighting me is just foreplay. My teeth clench, grinding my molars. He thinks he’s so clever, so untouchable.
God, I hate how much that smugness makes my cock stir.
He drums his fingers lazily against the steering wheel, the ink shifting with each tap. “See, that’s the problem with you, Lover Boy. You think the world revolves around you. News flash—itdoesn’t. I came here for the view. Lake, trees, quiet neighborhood.” His smirk sharpens. “And if you happen to live across the street… well, isn’t that a lovely coincidence?"
I clench my fists at my sides. “Cut the shit, Drew. You’ve been following me.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Following? No, no, no.Protecting.There’s a difference.”
I scoff, heat rising in my face. “You don’t protect anyone. You wreck things.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says smoothly, leaning forward, lowering the shades just enough for me to catch the glint of his eyes. “I protect what’s mine. And you, Lover Boy—you’ve been mine since the second you looked at me.”
My throat tightens. “I’m with Charlie.”
“Charlie.” He laughs, the sound sharp and cruel. “Charlie’s safe. Predictable. Daylight and small talk. But me?” His voice drops to a whisper, a wolf’s growl under chocolate velvet. “I’m the night. I’m the rush you can’t get from him no matter how many times he calls yougood lad orwhatever he begs you to call him.”
I shake my head, my heart thudding profoundly in my chest. “You’re insane.”
“And yet,” he says, licking his lips, “you came out here. To me. Not to Charlie. Not to your papa inside. You walked to my window like a puppy looking for it’s owner. You can call me crazy all you want, Lover Boy, but deep down you know I’m right. Otherwise, why are you hard right now?”
My breath stutters. His grin tells me he can see it—even through the storm-dark air, he knows. He’s penetrated my core, this prick of a man.
I swallow harshly, attempting to keep my voice sharp. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I do,” Drew purrs, tapping the edge of his sunglasses back into place. “You think you can lie to me? Your body tells on you. The way you shifted when you knocked. The way you’re standing right now—like you’re torn between bolting and climbing into my lap. Don’t insult us both by pretending otherwise.”
“Fuck off.”
He chuckles, low and cheeky. “There’s that fire. I like it when you bite. Makes it all the sweeter for when you break. Like a lolly that dissolves with enough licks of my tongue.”
“I’m not breaking.” I stammer, clenching my fists.
“You already are,” he says smoothly. “You wouldn’t be out here if you weren’t. You wouldn’t be glaring at me like you want to strangle me… or kiss me. Either way, Lover Boy, it ends with you panting.”
I swallow hard, hating that he can hear it. “You’re delusional.”
“Maybe. But you’re mine, delusion or not.” He leans closer to the window, voice dropping to a taunt. “Say it. Just once. Call me what you’ve been thinking.”
I shake my head furiously. “No.”
“Say it,” he insists, the smirk curling crueler. “One word, and you’ll finally admit what you want.”
