Kara Make me. Cameron's deep voice was laced with a dare, tempting me to ignore the voice in my head warning me to tread carefully with a dangerous man like him. And answer it with a dare of my own. Make me. If you can. It was a rare occasion for me to turn down a challenge, but his lips stopped my words from spilling, replacing them with a moan as he kissed me with a kind of longing that made me think of surrender. The only thing was... I don't like to lose. I hooked my leg around his hip, pressing my body against him. His eyes widened in surprise, before they became hooded with hunger. It staggered me every time I saw it in his devastatingly beautiful face—how much he wanted me. I never felt wanted before, not like this. It made me bolder, made me want to push boundaries and discover new ones. He gripped my waist, fingers digging intimately into my skin, and turned in one smooth motion until he was the one under me. I sat on top of him, my legs stretched to accommodate his size. I heard him groan, low and deep, as his hips brazenly thrusted up against me. "You want to play, Spitfire?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "I didn't know this was a game," I replied. "Would you like it to be?" "Do I get a prize?" "If you like." I raised an eyebrow, and when he didn't respond, I asked, "What is it?" He looked at me for a moment and his smile was sad. "Kara," he said softly. "Would you play the game if the prize was... me?" My eyes snapped open. For a moment everything seemed to blur. I felt disoriented, my heart pounding against my chest from a dream I could barely remember. Something ached inside me—I felt sad and...needy. It was confusing. I blinked, focusing on my surroundings. Vaulted wood ceilings with exposed beams. Skylights. It was still dark, but I could see a few rays of milky light trying to break through the sky. I turned my head to the side. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows provided an uninterrupted view of the shadowy forest. Wait. Where the hell am I? And what— Cameron. Last night he had driven us to his property located outside the city. Where he had told me about a maze and... I turned my head and found the side of the bed where he had slept beside me for the first time empty. Where is he? I sat up quickly, moaning in distress as dizziness came over me. I gave myself a few moments, and when it felt like the world was steady again, I scooted at the edge of the bed, dragging the blanket with me, and stared into space. I closed my eyes, covering my face with my hands. Omigod. I slept with Cameron last night. Beside Cameron, a voice in my head clarified. You slept beside Cameron. You didn't do the deed. Right. I looked around. The only light in the cabin was from the orange glow of a fire in the fireplace, but it was enough to see where everything was. His place was a modern open concept with more space than furniture. He was a minimalist. All this thinking and observing was making my head hurt. It was too early to use my brain cells until I've had my... Coffee. Please God. I squeaked when the front door suddenly opened. For a moment I could only see the shape of a tall man with broad shoulders in the shadows. My heart pounded in response. It didn't seem strange to me that even in the dark I readily recognized who he was. "You're awake." A rough, deep voice. "Coffee?" Cameron stepped inside. I heard a click before recessed lighting flooded the cabin and revealed his face. My lips parted on a sharp breath at the sight of him. Cameron Jeremiah Saint Laurent was a wickedly beautiful man with a face of an archangel—a fallen one. I couldn't see the color of his eyes, but I knew they were the most intense and eerily blue I had ever seen—the colour deepening or darkening depending on his mood. I felt them on me now, watching me with rapt attention. For some reason he wanted me. He had shared a secret with me—a painful secret he'd been keeping inside him for so long that he hadn't shared with anyone else. He was like a tightly locked room—dark and mysterious. He wouldn't let anyone near, guarding his heart so fiercely it pushed me away. Until last night when he had driven us to the maze. It humbled me that he would trust me, that he would open himself up to me. I could only imagine how much that costed him. It made me realize how much I meant to him. My body responded to his proximity, to his powerful presence that was impossible to ignore. He was carrying a hefty wood box filled with firewood and placed it on the floor beside the door. I noticed then that his shirt was soaked. Did it start to rain? I was tempted to look outside to check but changed my mind when I saw him grip the collar of his wet shirt and pull it off, then hung it on the back of a dining chair. His torso was long and lean, his stomach muscles ripped and defined. I felt a flutter in my belly as I watched him walk to the small kitchen. The spark of attraction I felt for him was so strong. He moved silently and with a kind of confidence and predatory grace that reminded me of an animal in the wild. "There's coffee if you like. But you have to come," he said in a low, masculine drawl. "To me." My whole body went on full alert. It was the promise of coffee, I was almost sure of it. It wasn't the low, raspy voice that hinted of rough and gentle hands desperate to touch my skin, or of a hungry mouth on my lips that took as much as it gave. Not at all. The blanket pooled at my feet as I stood. I bent down to pick it up when he said, "Leave it." I looked up at him. He was leaning against the counter, watching me. "Won't you come to me," he asked softly. "Kara?" "Yes," I answered. A hundred times yes. Despite him telling me to leave the blanket, I grabbed it and wrapped it around my shoulders. One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile at my defiance, as though he enjoyed it instead of rejecting it, unlike the people I had met. When I was close enough to see the intensity in his eyes, the stunning colour of them, it wasn't just hunger I saw. It was yearning.