“So I’ve been told,” I mumble.
“A dramatic little thief.”
“Cat burglar,” I correct him. “Sounds cooler and less illegal.”
“What am I going to do with you?” he mutters as he places a Band-Aid over my knee.
“Let me go? Forget this happened?” I throw out a few suggestions, hoping maybe one of them will stick.
“You haven’t given me what I want yet.”
“What? My flower? Like an exchange?” I glance down at my ladybits.
“Stop talking about your flower.” He stands.
“Does that make you uncomfortable? Talking about…” I lean forward. “Sex,” I whisper. Why am I trying to poke this bear that has me in his trap?
“You’re the one whispering the word sex. And to answer your question, no, talking about fucking what I know will be your very tight pussy doesn’t make me uncomfortable, my little thief.”
My mouth drops open as heat rushes to my face. I press my thighs together as a throb forms.
He leans down, his face getting closer to mine. “It tempts me.”
I swallow. His face is more intense than I’ve seen it so far, and I’ve done a lot of button-pushing.
“What do you want?” My heart is pounding now. I’m not sure why.
“Names. Yours and whoever sent you.”
“‘I’m Selina Kyle.”
A bark of laughter pops from him. I wasn’t expecting that. He keeps surprising me.
“If that’s how you want to play it, Catwoman.” He pulls a phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture of me.
“Hey, I wasn't ready. You can’t just take a picture without giving me a warning.”
“I can do anything I like.”
“At least you took it from a top angle,” I mutter. He clicks away on his phone. “What are you doing?” He doesn’t answer me, but Heirloom jumps onto the bed, distracting me. I pet him, debating if I should steal his collar. This is a tough one. I can’t steal from a cat. A human, sure, but a cat? That’s a line I can’t cross.
“Marigold Featherby, 22 years old.” His brows pull together. “Your father is a cop.”
How the hell?
“Don’t worry, he won’t come looking for me.” I slap my hand over my mouth. Yeah, I suck at being kidnapped.