Before Olivia’s feet could touch the pavement, Haden’s hand was on her arm–his grip firm and unrelenting. It was difficult to imagine his touch being otherwise, yet only a score of minutes ago, he’d held her with a gentleness she’d thought him incapable of.
Looking at him now, wearing that standard-issue scowl, the impassive arrogant glint in those sea green eyes, she’d swear this wasn’t the same man. And therein lay the problem… She thought of him as such when the truth was, Haden wasn’t a man at all. Sure, he shared some of the same Homo sapien genetics, but he was so much more. And the minute she let her guard down and forgot that, was the moment she’d surely die.
Grinding his arousal against her backside, he growled, “I should take you right now for that little stunt. Haul that cush ass of yours into the back seat and finish this!”
It was a threat Olivia knew he could easily carry out. At her shameful, breath-hitching sob, Haden hissed a curse. His biting grip on her neck eased a touch. “Do you think that I want to want you, Olivia?”
She hoped his question was rhetorical because she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
“Do you think this is some game you can outplay, outwit and outlast me? It’s not Survivor! I am ancient, Olivia, old as fucking Noah and his Ark. I’ve spent lifetimes hunting and killing the Sighted. Do not tempt me again, or I swear to God I’ll finish what you started.”