Money buys anything these days. Sold-out tickets to concerts. Homes that aren’t for sale. Positions and power and a whole slew of other things. But what it buys me, that I find ridiculously important, is information.

Olivia Castle is a thing of the past. A forgotten craving. An inkling of a desired moment that doesn't matter anymore.

In her place is Cerys Youngblood.

Those amber eyes haunted me from the moment she closed her door until now. Like a maddening disease, everything I’d learned about her in a few short moments festered and grew and spread inside me. The desperation to learn more was real. A voracious need to cut her life open with a scalpel and take my time removing every vital piece of her world, inspecting each part with careful scrutiny.

This obsession is alarming.

I tend to stalk and follow and cross lines, but this is utterly unidentifiable in my mind.

Something that makes zero sense in my head.

All it took was a walk back to the hotel, emptying my safe, and taking every goddamned hundred-dollar bill I had on me at the moment for the doorman to sing like a motherfucking canary. Turns out, he was a wealth of information. Less than an hour, and I had all I needed to know that I was going to make her mine.

But it was her reply to my text only a few moments ago that sent me over the edge.

Empty threats don’t scare me, Stalker.

Whatever shred of control I’d been holding onto snapped and sent me damn near charging to her apartment door. I’m practically twitching with need as I wait for her to answer.

So trusting, this little girl with the strange name and strange hair and strange clothes.

So trusting and innocent.

Just waiting to be victimized by my expertise in the bedroom.

I want to possess and consume her unlike any woman I’ve ever encountered.

And when I finally have her, I will punish her for this power she has over me. I’ll extract the cries from her body with physical pain mixed with pleasure as she’s been the sadist wreaking havoc in my mind. It’s only fair. Tit for tat.

When she opens the door, I’m not fully prepared for what I see. I expected more bizarre clothing. Mismatched colors and fabrics. Styles from one era that don’t even belong in the same room as styles from another era.

Yet now?

Now she is timeless in her simple black dress.

Somehow a classic beauty transcending every level of time.

I’m struck senseless.

Anger wells up inside of me. How dare she lure me in like this and take me by surprise? How dare she ruin my careful planning and execution? How dare she tempt me into making a goddamn fool of myself because I don’t have a plan?

Her smile catches me off-guard and snuffs out my fury. I find myself stepping closer and closer and closer until I’m peering down at her honey eyes and my fingers are wrapping around her red-and-black locks.

She smells like innocence and flowers.

Like youth and freedom and everything but me.

I want to stain her with reality.

Mark myself on every part of her.

Make her realize the world is much darker than she knows.

“Creeper alert,” she murmurs, her voice flirty and carefree.

“I’m in your home, and you are not afraid,” I growl, inhaling her.

She presses a palm to the center of my chest over my tie and pushes slightly. Not enough to force me away but enough to keep me momentarily from mauling her.

“Slow down, tiger.”

“Trusting strangers is dangerous,” I bite out, my tone harsh and condescending.

She smiles, her honey eyes dancing with interest. “But we’ve already met, Stalker Darden. We’re hardly strangers anymore.”

Something rubs against my leg, and I jerk back to find a black cat staring up at me. I wonder if this beast knows this is a fifty-four-hundred-dollar custom-made Tom Ford suit. He lets out an unimpressed “meow” and continues his relentless rubbing.

“Hank is a texture man,” Cerys explains as if this makes all the sense in the world.

It makes zero sense.

This world of hers she’s drawn me into is like some alternate reality.

Like the Alice and Wonderland Broadway show I saw once. Talking cats and psychedelic drugs. An upside-down world of sorts.

“Why are you dressed like this?” I demand, ignoring her strange words.

She laughs and shakes her head. “I was going out. To the club with my friend, if you must know, Dad.”

I sneer at her mocking words, but my cock lurches in my slacks. “You’re not going anywhere, Alice.”

Her eyebrow arches. “The name is Cerys.”

“I know, Alice. Now call your friend and tell her plans have changed.”

A rosy pink color blooms across her slender throat when I close the door behind me. I turn the lock, nudge the cat away with my Italian leather shoe, and point at the phone in her hand.

“I, uhh, I think you should go.” Her sultry voice cracks slightly, and worry glimmers in her honey orbs.

I scrub my palm across my jaw and give my head a shake. “You knew when you spoke those words to me downstairs in the snow who I was,” I rumble. “You knew I’d been watching that woman, and you stopped me. You drew my focus on you. And instead of running away, you shook your ass, jabbered your nonsense, and showed me to your home. If that isn’t a fucking invitation, I don’t know what is.”

She blinks at me, her tits jiggling with each frantic breath she takes. “Anyone ever tell you you’re intense?” she asks as she texts someone on her phone.

I should worry she’s contacting the police or her father or Olivia, whom I know lives two stories above them. Instead, she sends her text and tosses her phone into a chair nearby.

“You need a drink,” she tells me as she turns and heads for the kitchen.

I prowl after her, shedding my long coat on the chair along the way. Inside the kitchen, I find her pouring some cheap vodka into two mismatched glasses. She hands me the one with Beauty and the Beast on the side, and I growl. This earns a snort from her.

“Do you have to stalk all your girlfriends? I mean, does anyone ever fall for this upon meeting them the first time? All growls and bossiness and . . .” She trails off and gestures at my suit. “And whatever this is.”

“Tom Ford,” I answer. “It cost more than your car.”

She laughs, and it makes my heart rate speed up. “Something tells me you actually do know how much my car cost. But before you launch into a terrifying tale of how you managed to get that information in such a very short amount of time, please drink the vodka and chill out for a minute.”

I knock back the horrendous alcohol and slam the glass back down on the counter. She shakes her head as though I, James Motherfucking Darden, amuse her.

I don’t amuse anyone.

Her full, red lips hug the edge of the glittery glass she holds, and she daintily sips down the liquor that tastes worse than gasoline. She’s not old enough to drink. But that doesn’t matter because she’s probably not old enough for the shit I plan to do to her.

Own. Possess. Destroy.

I want to tear her dress away with my teeth and bite every soft part of her. I want to rub my cock against her, letting my pre-cum leak onto her skin, and draw orgasm after orgasm from her simply from my tongue.

“When I want something, I take my time. This isn’t something quick that will go away tomorrow, faster than a hangover from a twelve-dollar bottle of vodka.” I stalk over to her and run my fingertip along her naked throat to her collarbone. Then, I dip it down to her cleavage. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t cower away. “This is something you will savor, girl. You’ll savor it unlike anything you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming. I will spoil you with my tongue, and you’ll reward me with your cunt.”

Her cheeks turn bright red, and for a moment, the usually jabbering girl is stunned silent. Those perfect fucking lips part in surprise. Those lips are my next victim. I go in for the kill without warning.

Tangling my large hands in her silky, wild-colored hair, I fist her locks on each side and tilt her head up. Her honey eyes are wide, but her mouth parts farther, inviting me in.

Too bad I don’t wait for invitations.

I take what I want.

A mewl escapes her the moment my lips press firmly against hers. My tongue thrusts out to meet her small, unsure one, and I dominate her sexy little mouth. She’s caught beneath a beast, this beauty, as I press my body against hers and lock her between me and the refrigerator.

Holding her hair isn’t enough.

I am greedy.

My palm roves down along her jaw to her throat. With a swipe of my thumb over the fat vein in her neck, I revel in the way it pulses wildly. Anticipation and delight mixed in one extraordinary feeling. The fact that she is not afraid has my cock harder than stone.

“Your mouth, so young and supple, belongs to that of a woman. But you are simply a girl,” I remind her. Warning her that I’m about to do grown-man things to her. “If ever there were a time to run, it would be now.”

I pull away to stare at her perfect mouth that her breaths rush in and out of.

“But fair warning, Alice,” I growl. “I’ll chase you down any fucking rabbit hole. I’ll always catch you.”