I walked and breathed like a cursed man. It was a ridiculous, suffocating experience. Marina Fidel was eroding my senses. When I dreamed, I tasted her throat and heard her screams. The fact I didn't need to imagine those things made it worse. I'd buried myself in her welcoming thighs, gripped her firm ass and held on for dear life. Marina was all I wanted. And I might need to kill her. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I heard her walking in the hall. I knew her footsteps. I could even count down the time it took her to go into my kitchen, heat herself up some water, and then sit down for her morning cocoa. She brushed her teeth for a minute and forty seconds every morning. Her showers lasted as long as it would take me to clean my gun five times. Obsessed? Me? Of course I fucking was. This woman was a hazard. My heart rate had reached dangerous levels since she'd walked into my life. Lifting a hand, I studied my palm; my knuckles. My tattoos were the same as ever, but the rest of me felt...
