Lust ‘n Dead Page
Afterward, she traced the anchor on his knuckle. “You feel like a ghost.”
She slid onto the stool beside him, close enough that her bare knee touched his denim-clad thigh. He didn’t flinch. Just turned his whiskey glass in slow circles.
Ellie froze, breath caught in her throat. She pressed her palm flat to his chest. Nothing. She touched his neck. Nothing. Just the cool, solid stillness of a man who had stopped living a long time ago. lust ‘n dead
Not slow. Not fast. Not at all.
Silas tilted his head. In the dim light, his face was still beautiful—still that same sharp jaw, that same wicked mouth. But the shadows clung to him differently now. Like they were old friends. Afterward, she traced the anchor on his knuckle
“Nobody is,” he replied, voice like gravel and honey. “We all just end up here.”
“It wasn’t a line.” He finally looked at her. His eyes were the color of a storm sea—gray-green and bottomless. “It was an epitaph.” Just turned his whiskey glass in slow circles
Ellie should have shivered. Instead, she felt heat crawl up her spine. There’s a kind of man you know will ruin you before you even say hello. And there’s a kind of woman who orders another drink anyway.
🔒 Encrypt File Online
Uploaded files are never stored, logged, or retained after
encryption completes.
🔓 Decrypt File Online
Decrypt previously encrypted files securely using the correct secret
key.
Afterward, she traced the anchor on his knuckle. “You feel like a ghost.”
She slid onto the stool beside him, close enough that her bare knee touched his denim-clad thigh. He didn’t flinch. Just turned his whiskey glass in slow circles.
Ellie froze, breath caught in her throat. She pressed her palm flat to his chest. Nothing. She touched his neck. Nothing. Just the cool, solid stillness of a man who had stopped living a long time ago.
Not slow. Not fast. Not at all.
Silas tilted his head. In the dim light, his face was still beautiful—still that same sharp jaw, that same wicked mouth. But the shadows clung to him differently now. Like they were old friends.
“Nobody is,” he replied, voice like gravel and honey. “We all just end up here.”
“It wasn’t a line.” He finally looked at her. His eyes were the color of a storm sea—gray-green and bottomless. “It was an epitaph.”
Ellie should have shivered. Instead, she felt heat crawl up her spine. There’s a kind of man you know will ruin you before you even say hello. And there’s a kind of woman who orders another drink anyway.
