A. Arthur - Passion's Prey

In the hall once again she touched a hand to the closed door, knowing this was his personal space. A whiff of dominance assailed her and she looked to the left, where X stood at the end of the hallway, hands fisted at his sides, legs spread partially, chest and head held high. He was daring her and giving her permission all at the same time. She didn’t falter, but opened the door and stepped inside.

Here the monotony of the decor was broken. His bed was huge. Then again, it would have to be to accommodate him comfortably. Four thick posters held up the king-size mattresses to a bed that had to be at least a couple of feet off the floor. It looked as heavy as his truck, she thought as she moved closer. There was a huge armoire in the corner closest to the door. All the furniture in here appeared heavy and ornate, like something out of a time warp. It was dark cherrywood and had intricate designs carved inside. The floor was bare and so were the walls, but in this room, amazingly, Caprise was not cold.

“As you can see there’s space for two,” he said in a gruff tone from his spot in the doorway.

She’d known he was there, had felt his presence close, overshadowing.

“Do two often sleep here?” She was asking about the girlfriend thing again and berated herself for it. She already knew the answer, or at least she thought she did. Furthermore, it didn’t really matter. Or it shouldn’t matter.

“No female has been here before” was his answer just before there was a knock at the door.

It was a low knock, she knew, but she heard it and so did X.

“Get comfortable,” he told her before leaving her alone.

“Yes sir,” she mocked him when he was gone.

Touching one of the bedposts, she thought with a bit of smugness, No female has been here before. Why did that please her?

Caprise was not into fairy tales. She didn’t want any type of happily ever after, with any man or shifter. Not anymore. That was the trouble with first relationships, they had a tendency to leave everlasting scars. She resisted the urge to touch the physical scar left over from said relationship, letting her mind ripple over the mental ones before shaking her head clear of it all.

She climbed onto the bed and was sitting in its center with her legs crossed when X returned.

Innocent, that’s how she looked sitting on his big bed, with her slim frame and wild hair hanging past her shoulders. The shirt she wore was huge and hung on her like a curtain. Long luxurious legs were folded together and tucked neatly. Yeah, she looked like a high school kid instead of the alluring stripper he now knew her to be.

“Seth brought your things from the club,” he said, putting her purse and the bag with her clothes and shoes in it near one of the dressers on the opposite side of the room.

“He sucks as a guard, you know,” she told him when she’d scrambled off the bed to grab her purse. “You shouldn’t have been allowed to get near that stage or me, for that matter.”

“I’m his supervisor,” he told her. He moved to his dresser, taking his cell phone from his pocket and putting it along with his keys on the surface. “And you should have stayed at Havenway.”

X had thought the same thing about Seth earlier, but after seeing the shifter already near his vehicle he realized Seth had known he was there all along. And maybe the shifter was doing just as he’d said: giving them space. Although X had no idea why Seth would think that was necessary.

“I can go back now if you’d let me out of this gray cell you’ve created for yourself.”

He turned to her then. “You think my house is a cell?”

She was reading something on her phone, her brow furrowed, and for an instant, just a quick second, X scented her fear. In the next moment it was gone; she’d squared her shoulders, put the phone on the dresser closest to her, and flipped her hair over one shoulder.

“You’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. “No, you don’t kid, nor do you laugh. Okay, yes, this is a cell. It’s cold and impersonal and clearly designed to keep people out.”

X frowned, hated that her assessment sounded damn close to the truth. “And you were named psychotherapist when?”

She shrugged. “Just an observation. So look, I’m tired. I need a shower, then I plan to sleep. How long do you plan to hold me captive this time?”

He hadn’t held her captive before. Sure, he’d locked her into a room at Rome’s house, but that was for her own safety. X could say that keeping her here tonight was for the same reason. Rogues had been to Athena’s before. X knew this for a fact, because Sabar’s savior drug was being sold there. Diamond, the stripper he’d met a few weeks ago and who’d subsequently been killed, had worked at Athena’s. She’d recognized the drug with the mysterious symbol on its package. Yet tonight, of all nights, they’d come straight to Caprise’s dressing room. Why?

That was a good enough reason to keep her here, in his house, in his bed. But if he were totally honest he’d admit that this was where he’d wanted her for quite some time. Fate had just played into his hand. Since she’d been back Caprise had become his one weakness. Sure, he’d denied that fact for the first few weeks of her return, but X wasn’t in the habit of hiding from the truth. He wasn’t in the habit of hiding at all. In fact, he hated like hell that he couldn’t go back to Athena’s and kick some Rogue ass. But for tonight he’d have to leave that to the guards.

“Take your shower then you can sleep in here.”

“You don’t like to answer questions, do you?” she said with a tilt to her head as if she were actually studying him.

He folded his arms over his chest, not trying to avoid the hardening of his dick at the sight of her long bare legs and nipples poking through the cotton of that shirt. However, he was definitely trying to keep her busy little mind off him. Because it was one thing to want Caprise in his bed, another to want her in his life. Especially that part of his life he didn’t even want to claim himself.

“You ask too many,” he snapped.

Her gaze dropped, rested on his crotch, and X felt an extra burst of arousal. She was tempting him, daring him to cross that room and fuck her again. And he could do it. He wanted desperately to do it. But he didn’t.

“Get your shower and get some sleep.”

When he was walking past her to leave the room she stopped him.

“You don’t scare me, Xavier. Your big badass routine doesn’t scare me,” she told him.

As thoughts of what he wanted to do to her played like a movie trailer in his head, X could only sigh. “It should.”

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID AND I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. SEE YOU SOON.

X frowned as he read the text message that had just come through on Caprise’s phone. Because it was his nature, he picked up his own cell and punched in the number the text came from. He also emailed it to himself with a note to do a trace first thing in the morning.

The sound of water still running in the shower gave him an extra few minutes. And while X knew it was probably one of the biggest breaches a man could inflict on a woman, he looked through her purse. Among the variety of female things she also had a small handgun and a tube of Mace. As if she knew she needed to protect herself. But from whom? The person who was sending her this text, most likely.

Suddenly he wanted to know who this person was, what he or she was to Caprise, and what she’d done that they knew about. And X wanted to know right now. Putting down both phones, he left the bedroom and entered the bathroom. She hadn’t shut the door all the way, part of her I’m-not-afraid-of-you stance, he figured. So X pushed his way inside.