“Maddie,” I grit out as I stalk after her. What choice do I have? Let her trek through an alley alone after midnight? It would take me three times as long to walk around the building and meet her on the other side.

She knew what she was doing by running down this way. And yet here I am. Chasing after her. Playing her game.

I half jog, half sidestep through the narrow space, trying to keep pace with this girl.

The next time I look up, she’s stopped, standing stock still, her back to me.

“Are you okay?” I ask on an exhale when I finally catch up to her. I’m breathless from the adrenaline rush of chasing her.

She doesn’t answer. Not verbally, at least.

I don’t know if she steps back or if I shift forward. Maybe we both move at once, but I hiss as her ass brushes against the front of my pants.

I desperately need to put distance between us. I reach out to grip her hip, intending to shift her forward so she’s not right up on my dick. But thanks to the darkness of the alley and her ridiculous half shirt, my fingers find purchase against the soft flesh of her stomach.

Her abs contract against my hand, and she gasps in response to my touch. Without conscious thought, I tighten my hold, digging into her skin and pulling her back toward me.

“Dempsey.” Her head lands on my chest as she cranes back to meet my gaze.

“Dammit, Maddie.” I grunt as her strawberry sweetness fills my nostrils and leaves me senseless. I inexplicably bend lower, tug her closer, and nuzzle into her hair like an addict craving his next hit.

She smells so good. She feels even better.

She rolls her hips against me, and desire shoots through every nerve in my goddamn body. My dick’s hardening behind my zipper, and my balls are practically weeping with want.

Did I experience a lobotomy when I followed her into this alley? What the fuck am I doing? There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea.

She’s her.

I’m me.

And yet here we are, pressed together, hidden from view, in a private moment of our own making.

“Dempsey?” She repeats my name, her tone full of questions. She’s not pushing me like before. She’s not trying to manipulate me or trick me again. This time, she sounds genuinely concerned and a little unsure.

It’s the way her voice quavers that does me in.

Fuck it.

I grab her shoulders, then shove her back against the bricks with a force that startles us both. My anger is still bubbling under the surface, but over the last few seconds, it’s transformed into something needy and frantic. I look down at her and suck in a ragged breath.