*CUPID'S MATCH BOOK 2* FIRST DRAFT
Lila receives an ominous Valentine's Day card.
Cupid & Cal are keeping a dark secret.
Fate is being interfered with.
And a sadistic, and extremely powerful banished cupid is intent on stealing Lila's heart. Literal...
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I lunge at Cupid.
He blocks my blow with his arm. The green flecks dance tauntingly in his ocean eyes as I stagger back. He doesn't move his gaze from my face; his bare feet criss-crossing one another as he circles me.
I follow his lead, moving slowly, not allowing him to slip out of sight. The strange Valentine's Day card I received earlier burns in my pocket, but I push it from my mind for now. I need to focus.
My breathing is fast, shallow. My eyes fall from his just for a moment – moving down to his white T-Shirt clinging to his torso with a light layer of perspiration. He watches me, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.
Then I curl my fingers into a fist and launch it at his face.
He grabs it in his hand at the last moment. His fingers tighten. He steps closer, yanking me into him, engulfing me in a wave of his body heat. He smells like soap mixed with a light cologne; I breathe in his scent as I try to pull my hand away. His grip is too tight; a warm vice around my fingers.
He stops, his face inches from mine, and I stare up at him, defiant.
He smiles wickedly.
"You'll have to do better than that, lovebug," he says.
"How do you know I don't have you exactly where I want you?"
He raises a fair eyebrow.
"If I was where you wanted me I don't think we'd be in the combat training room of the Cupids Matchmaking Service..."
"Oh yeah, where would we be then?"
He pauses then a grin cracks upon his face.
"Under the covers?"
I feel a tug at the corner of my lip, but I remain serious.
"Yeah...you wish..."
His eyes search mine, amusement glinting in them, as he tries to gage a reaction.
Suddenly I twist under his arm. I feel his hard chest against my back as I bend forwards. At the same time I pull, knocking him off balance, and toppling him over my shoulder. He lands hard on his back on the pink mat. The sound of the smack reverberates around the large room, bouncing off the pink and black archery targets and the high ceiling above.
I swipe a silver and pink arrow from the quiver slung over my shoulder, step over him, turn, and point it at his chest. I hold his gaze and raise an eyebrow.
"Exactly where I want you..." I say.
He laughs.
Then, suddenly, he grabs the arrow, and pulls down. The tip sinks into him and I topple down onto his body as it crumbles to ash between us. I put my hands out onto the mat, holding myself up just inches from his face.
