She’d stripped everything from me in that courtroom. My career, friends, freedom, and she’d displayed no emotion while doing it.

“I-I can’t do this now,” she said, a tremor stringing her words together. “I have to go.” Darting past me, she made a run for the door and managed to fling it open by the time I whirled around. That’s when the duffle swinging on her shoulder caught my attention, and it dawned on me she was running.

Because of the note I’d left on her door? Guess my mind-fuckery had done the trick, only I never expected her to take off. There was no way she could know what I had planned for her. Before she escaped the house, I shot an arm out and slammed the door shut, then pressed into her soft curves that fit perfectly against me.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Even in that heady moment, as adrenaline pumped through my veins, I hesitated. What I was about to do changed everything. I was about to become the criminal they’d accused me of being.

But no one deserved comeuppance more than Alex.

The duffle slid from her shoulder, landing with a thump on the mud mat. She flattened both palms against the door, and I covered her hands with mine, sliding cool leather over warm skin. I wondered if the gloves worried her, if she sensed the danger I posed. I wedged a leg between hers, thigh nudging her ass, and electricity spiked, a current so hot my whole body sizzled. Was she aware of it too? Did she feel my cock prodding her backside?

“You need to leave,” she ground out, but even as the words left her mouth, she relaxed in submission. She turned her head and peered at me through lashes slightly lowered, disguising what I might find in her jade depths. “Please, you’ve gotta go.”

I wanted to take her then, fuck her right against the door. “Not a chance. I’ve waited too long for this.” I latched the deadbolt again, satisfied with the decisive click that echoed off the walls, and pulled her further into the house.

“What are you doing?” she cried, tugging against the fingers I’d clamped around her arm.

I stopped once we reached the hall. “Where’s the note I left?” I couldn’t leave behind any evidence. “Did you show it to Zach?”

She yanked her arm from my grasp. “No, why?”

“Doesn’t matter. I want it back.”

“It’s in my bedroom.” She opened the first door on the right. Going by the clothing piled in haphazard fashion on the bed and the floor, she’d packed in a hurry. She crossed to her nightstand and withdrew the note from the drawer.

I snatched it from her fingers, making her flinch, and pocketed the last piece of evidence. “C’mon.” I dragged her into the kitchen, my pulse rocketing, and my jeans grew uncomfortably tight as I shoved her into a chair. She gazed up at me, mouth open, messy curls partially obscuring her eyes, and I was so close to bending her over the table.