“One cup of coffee,” he cajoled, all but oozing charm now. “Then I’ll leave you to your beauty sleep.”

She chewed her lip, drawing attention to that plush mouth. Her lipstick was gone now, wicked away by dinner and drink, but her lips were just as enticing naked as they were painted.

“Okay,” she finally said, and held up a finger. “One cup of coffee.”

He held out his hands, all amiable innocence. “You have my word.”

Her smile trembled at the corners, as though she couldn’t quite stretch it far enough, then she said, “Come on in,” and stepped through the front door.

He followed.

Olivia walked through the entry way into the living room, her nerves dancing. She laid her handbag on the table at the end of the sofa and continued through the dining room to the kitchen. She knew Cade was following—she could hear his footsteps on the wood floors—but more, she could feel him behind her. She imagined him stalking after her, like a lion after a gazelle, and had to suppress a shiver of excitement. Part of her wanted to just tell him to skip the game and fuck her now, but she didn’t.

She wanted the game as much as he did. Maybe more.

She forced herself to walk to the coffee maker, to pull the bag of grounds out of the cabinet and measure them out, then fill the pot at the sink. She was so focused on the task that when she heard him say, “Nice place,” she nearly dropped the pot.

“Thanks.” She managed to pour the water in the coffee maker without spilling, then slid the pot into place and hit the button before turning to face him. He was closer than she’d realized, in front of her rather than on the other side of the counter, and she let out a little laugh to cover her nerves. “What are you doing?”

“Just watching you,” he said, and the look on his face made her breath catch in her throat. His smile had gone sharp at the edges, the veneer of charm thinner. There was malice lurking in the dark brown depths of his eyes, and a sick kind of glee, and it was shockingly real.

They were on the roller coaster now, the car chugging its way slowly to the top, the heady mix of excitement and terror making her belly flip as she waited for the inevitable fall.

She wasn’t sure what to do. If anything like this had happened to her for real—and she’d had her share of dates turn creepy—she knew exactly what her next move would be. But kneeing him in the balls might be taking the role-play a little too far.