All Chapters of Outfoxed By The Fox: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The stench of sex and sweat hangs in the air as I push open the door. A fucking symphony of moans echoes all around me. Something slams against the wall again and again and again. Thump. Thump. Thump. The loudness of it drills into me, punching holes into my body. My heart aches, because it knows. It fucking knows. How could I not know?I’ve heard every sound he’s ever made.Each step I take towards that stupid room is a dagger stabbing me in the chest. Each thump against the wall. Each moan. Each growl. Each grunt. Each piece of clothing I spot thrown across the floor screams ‘you stupid girl’. Every fucking inch of my body begs me to run… to escape from the hell waiting for me beyond that door.But I’m a fucking sadist.I have to be.Because I already know and I still tiptoe to the open doorway of that bedroom. I need to see it with my eyes. I need to burn the image of his betrayal as a fucking reminder that I can’t trust anybody.When my eyes discovers what my ears and my imaginat

It’s not every day you get to waltz back into the same breathing room as your ex, but guess what? Life sucks. Lady luck is a bitch. Darius is a piece of shit. He really is. But not as much as I hate Maverick. Darius may be a walking sin, but Maverick is the devil. He’s wrapped up in sin with both silk restraints and handcuffs with whips, breathes sin, tastes like sin… and heaven help me, why was I walking into the lion’s den? I barely made it out the last time. I barely survived it. Here I am, his dark green pinning me in place across the bus station like I am the dart board and he’s the damn darts. Damn it all. Could the ground just open up and swallow me whole? Maverick walks up to me, still looking like that. It’s so unfair, because how can he look like so delicious and fuckable! It messes with my brain because that equally strong urge to punch him rallies against my hormones firing on all cylinders. “Hello stranger,” he drawls, stopping in front of me. I breathe in his

I immediately rip my eyes away from him, looking around… to escape or maybe to find something to bash him in the head with. The limo we’ve been riding in for the entire time comes to a stop in front of the familiar luxury aparthotel that still haunts my dreams. The last time I was here my heart got steamrolled and I left in the middle of the tears with my tail tucked between my legs, licking my wounds that still refuse to fucking heal.Why am I here? Why am I back here? What the fuck is wrong with me to return to the scene of the crime where I was murdered by the love of my life sitting currently right next to me? “C’mon,” he tells me, drawing my attention. “Let me show you to your new home.”Home? I chuckle at the absurdity that. “You mean my new room.”“Sure. Same thing.” No, it fucking isn’t! It’s not the same. Home used to be where he was. Home hasn’t felt like home since he broke it. I’ll never tell him that, because he probably doesn’t give a fuck. He probably created his home

Nothing makes sense anymore. I can't say I'm not relieved that the suite he led me to isn't the one he originally had when we were together. This one is equally luxurious and magnificent, but it oozes with familiarity and warmth this time. His personality is intertwined with the extravagance and it makes it less intimidating if that even makes sense. I've always known that he was raised and spoiled with luxury, but he never flaunted it in my face like the others in his social class do. Sure, he'd still get high quality stuff, but if it was absolutely necessary. There's a difference and it's always set him apart from the others. He's the diamond in the rough or at least he was until he wasn't. "Nice place," I tell him, scanning the surroundings with precision. I'm not at all trying to search out clues for another woman. Nope, not at all. There's no hint of feminine influence. There's no pictures of a significant other and it's aggravating me to no end. Then again, we haven't gott

His hands are ruthless thieves. With every touch, he steals my breath away as if I don't need to breathe to live. He takes my breathy whimpers and transforms them into a fucking opera. He's pulling off my pajamas and I'm desperately pulling off his clothes.When he lifts me up and puts me on the kitchen counter, the chill of the counter bites my skin. I glance down at myself and realize I'm in my birthday suit. My clothing is strewn about the living room somewhere. Everywhere.He pauses for a moment. His eyes drift over me like I'm a celestial phenomena. The intensity in his gaze burns a path, taking inventory of everything like he's mesmerizing everything. He makes me feel alive like I haven't been living.My heart races in my chest when he steps between my legs. His eyes now on mine captivating me and I'm in fucking awe of him. My hands just mapped the buried treasure moments ago and now I'm blessed, seeing his muscular yumminess on full fucking display. It's so unfair how he's scul