Page 10 of Stalker
"Just... knock."
His knowing smile says he catches my meaning perfectly. I escape into my unit before I do something stupid - like invite him in.
My back presses against the door, heart thundering in my chest. His scent lingers on my fingers and I bring them to my nose, inhaling deeply. Ozone and spice, mixed with something darker, more primal.
Focus. I need to focus.
My compad screen glows as I pull up the latest hydroponics assignment. The words blur together, meaningless symbols that refuse to make sense. The quiet hum from next door - is he in the shower? - draws my attention like a magnet.
"Partial pressure differentials in closed systems..." My whispered words trail off. A thud from his unit makes me jump. What's he doing over there?
The compad slips from my fingers onto the couch. This is ridiculous. I'm acting like some lovesick teenager instead of a grown woman working on her engineering degree.
But those red eyes. That knowing smile. The way his massive frame made me feel so deliciously small...
"Oh hell." I spring up from the couch and dash to my bedroom. The contents of my closet scatter across the bed as I hunt for something perfect - not too obvious, but just obvious enough.
The green silk wrap dress catches my eye. It brings out my eyes and shows just enough leg to be interesting.
My hands shake as I apply a fresh coat of lipstick. Is this insane? Probably. Do I care?
The mirror reflects back someone I barely recognize - cheeks flushed, eyes bright with anticipation. I fluff my red curls, adjust the neckline of the dress one last time.
Just a neighborly visit. That's all this is. Right.
The delivery drone chirps at my door. Perfect timing. The cookies smell divine - warm chocolate and butter wafting through the air as I arrange them on my fanciest silver platter.
"Not technically lying," I mutter, adjusting the presentation. "Just... omitting certain details."
A spritz of perfume - the expensive stuff mom sent for my birthday. Something floral and light that won't compete with the cookie aroma. One last check in the mirror and...
My knuckles whiten around the platter handle as I cross the hall. The door sensor blinks at me, mocking my hesitation. Just press it. Just...
My finger jabs the button before I can chicken out.
The door slides open. My brain short-circuits.
Bruticus fills the doorframe, bare ebony chest gleaming with sweat. An obsidian sword catches the light in his grip, its edge whispering deadly promises. His bone spurs cast sharp shadows across rippling muscle.
My mouth goes desert-dry. The platter trembles in my hands.
"Hi." The word squeaks out. "I, um... I... cookies."
Smooth, Maryse. Real smooth. Four years of advanced engineering and that's the best you can manage? Cookies?
His red eyes drop to the platter, then trail back up to my face with devastating slowness. A bead of sweat traces the line of his throat and I follow its path, mesmerized.
"Cookies," he echoes, lips curving into that dangerous smile that makes my knees weak.
"Are you hungry?" The words escape my lips like a secret, barely audible. I've never been more turned on by a man in my life. My heart hammers in my chest, a primal drumbeat echoing the pulsing heat between my legs.
Bruticus's nostrils flare, and I burn with shame. I know he can smell it—the scent of my arousal, thick and heavy in the air. His red eyes darken, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of crimson remains.
"I hunger," he rumbles, voice resonating deep within his chest. "But not for…cookies."
Before I can react, his arm snakes around my waist. He pulls me into the condo, the force of his movement sending the platter of cookies flying through the air. Chocolate chips scatter across the floor like tiny, delicious casualties.
"Bruticus!" I gasp, hands pressing against his bare chest. His skin is hot, feverish, muscles taut beneath my fingertips.