Arrow to the Heart: A Dark Cupid Romance

Chapter 15

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I'm obsessed.

Completely fucking obsessed.

Since last night, I swear that look on Bree's face has been permanently burned into my eyelids. Her swollen lips and pink cheeks. The way those big doe eyes bore into mine. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Hell, I can practically feel her. The rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine. Her ass resting in my palms. Her tongue slipping between my lips.

It's like I'm haunted.

Cursed.

And there's a part of me that likes it.

That part is wondering how deep this goes, how far I could fall if I let go, how close to the sun I could get before I got burned. It's the same voice in the back of my head that sees a flickering fire and wonders what it would be like to touch the flames. A voice that I know better than to listen to.

She just had to ask me to touch her. It was a trap. I knew it was a trap. But there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to say no.

I told myself I'd just lower her into the jacuzzi. Maybe give those hips a quick squeeze before I let her go. But her skin was so soft and then she slid down my body and those little pink lips parted and fuck it if my plans didn't go straight out the window.

And having her arms wrapped around me with her lips on mine may have been the best thing I've ever felt.

I'm so fucking screwed.

I want her.

I try not to let myself want things. It hurts less when it all falls apart. But damnit, I want Bree.

And that's a problem in so many ways.

Bree's caught up in something that put her on the Fates' radar. The Cartels have contracted me to match her. And she's human.

Bree Logan is a big flashing neon sign saying "hands off".

And yet all I want is to keep my hands very fucking on.

So. Screwed.

I scrub a hand over my face and sigh, leaning back in my chair and staring mindlessly at the TV—ignoring the fact that it's not even on.

A knock at my front door shakes me from the thoughts swarming in my head. I walk over and open the door. Eli immediately barrels past me inside.

"Please, come in," I say dryly, closing the door.

He helps himself to some chips from an open bag on the kitchen counter.

"Don't mind if I do," he says, between bites.

He chews for a moment as his eyes scan my face. He must see something unusual in my features because his brow furrows.

"What happened to you?" he asks, tilting his head.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're like... chipper."

"Chipper?"

I've been called many things, but that one is truly a first.

"Did Bree make a move?" he asks. His eyes widen and his posture straightens.

"Wha-... Why do you assume she made a move?"

"Well it had to be about Bree because you've never given a fuck about anyone else. And you would never make it happen since you're a chickenshit. Plus, you're giving off some serious vibes."