Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

Not like Markus Prince. Not like Jeffrey Evans—Lydia’s heir. But like me…the messed up mish-mash of a man who hadn’t had solid footing since the day he sold his soul to the devil and traded his training wheels for a gun.

“I loved the music,” Mutt blurted immediately, and his voice was so loud and jerky with excitement I couldn’t help but believe him. “Your music. You. Your—voice. You are just! Wow!” He didn’t have his ears and tail out—which was probably wise, as Ridgefield was not a sanctuary like Elmwood was. I kinda missed them, if I was being honest.

“Thank you.” I flushed, heart thumping. And then because I missed his voice, and kinda desperately needed him to keep talking, I asked, “What was your favorite song?”

“All of them,” Mutt blurted immediately again, blue eyes bright. “You are an angel.”

I balked, shifting awkwardly and dropping my hold on his wrist. “I dunno about that.”

You’re my angel, Jeffrey.

My precious little boy.

You’re so good for your mommy, aren’t you?

You love me so much.

You’ll do what I ask of you, won’t you? You won’t embarrass me.

“No.” Mutt grabbed my face.

I jolted, jerking out of my thoughts with a gasp like I’d just been dragged out of deep water.

“No sadness,” he commanded, his palm big and scratchy and warm.

“O-okay,” I managed, though weirdly enough…his words worked. It was a direct approach, yeah. But it was hard to be sad when a huge sexy man was grabbing you and demanding you be happy about it. “Yeah.”

“You do not like the word angel,” he said simply, like it was that easy.

“I don’t.”

“What else?”

“I don’t like compliments in general,” I admitted, my skin crawling. Mutt nodded, though he didn’t release me. He looked like his brain was breaking though, like he physically could not comprehend a world where he was not whispering sweet nothings—or in his case, sometimes yelling them—my way.

Maybe it was that honesty that made it different.

I wasn’t sure.

Or maybe it was just him?

“It’s fine though,” I said, surprised to find that I meant it. “If you do it. It’s fine.”

For the same reason sex with him felt natural and good, when it didn’t with anyone else anymore.

He was just…different.

Simple as that.

Mutt nodded, relaxing. His eyes danced and he leaned down, the hand on my face sliding low to gently cup my throat. He pressed into my personal space, his nose brushing mine. “If you were stuck in a tower I would save you,” he said softly. “I would hear your voice, and I would chase it, no matter how far away you were. That is how beautiful it is.”

My music had been my only source of true joy for as long as I could remember.

And his words meant…well, a lot to me.

A lot.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “How romantic,” I teased, though I kinda meant it.