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I gave her a wave. She showed me the middle finger.

When I walked into Yara’s office, she wasn’t there—she was probably still in the morgue. I looked around the tiny room. It was just like her.

“I heard my sexy boyfriend is here,” Yara said. “I came as fast as I could.” She sat on the desk, running her fingers through my hair. “You look tired.”

“Just anxious,” I said. She didn’t look anxious at all. No. Excitement radiated off of her skin.

“First, I’ll go to Hot Cuppa, and then drive to your house. Mason will probably take the bait and follow me home. When he tries to drug me, you’ll catch him off guard.”

I nodded. I had never been so worried about murder before, but now I was wondering if I had made a mistake. I knew she was strong. I knew she was the perfect predator, but still…

“Sounds easy enough.” She wrapped her arms around me. “Stop looking so bothered.”

“He’s still strong, and it could go wrong.”

“I never make a mistake. It’s true that I usually take more days to stalk my prey, but I have studied enough about Mason. All he needs is proof that I’m vulnerable enough.”

“Do not underestimate him,” I said, leaning back on her chair.

“I know. I’d never.” She gave me a cheeky smile before she lowered herself onto my lap, straddling me with a seductive smile. Her body pressed into mine, hips rolling just enough to make my stomach clench.

My cock came to attention. Always ready for her.

I groaned.

“Being here brings back memories,” she said, her lips soft against mine in a teasing ghost of a kiss.

My fingers dug into her waist, torn between pulling her closer and pushing her away before I lost all sense of control.

“Don’t tempt me,” I warned. “I can’t get distracted.”

“Why not?” She leaned closer, and her lips moved over mine, and it was not gentle.

It was teeth and tongue, a battle neither of us wanted to win. Her nails grazed against the back of my neck as she deepened the kiss, pressing herself closer, making it impossible to think of anything but her.

She stood up, and my hands twitched, desperate to drag her back down. She pulled her skirt higher, baring the smooth expanse of her thighs.

The movement was unhurried, and I watched, entranced, aroused, my breath breaking into a gasp.

Then she lowered herself back down, her heat pressing against my cock through the barrier of our clothes. The friction sent a sharp current of pleasure everywhere.

This was torture. This was pleasure.

“Yara, love…” I groaned, my fingers clamping around her thighs, digging into her soft flesh. She exhaled a soft, wicked laugh, rolling her hips just enough to make me shudder.

“You look so fucking desperate,” she whispered. “And I haven’t even started."

“Careful. If you keep testing me, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t.”

“But we can’t, not…”

“Then stop me.”

I hissed out a breath, my restraint hanging by a thread. She knew damn well I wouldn’t; I couldn’t. When had I ever had the strength to say no to her?

Never.