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487 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 30, 2026
“Are you scared?” Asher asked. Levi’s throat worked. “Yes.” “Good.” He watched Levi’s eyes. The shine in them—the wet, terrified brightness. “You’re so beautiful when you’re scared of me, Levi. You have no idea.”
The question of this story was never what does the game look like. The question was always: what does it look like when you slept with the crazy killer and now you have to figure out how to share a kitchen with him.
He shot me, and he loves me, and I don’t know what to do with either of those things.
Oh, you beautiful thing. You bit me. You bit me, and I can taste it, and you’re so angry, and I love you so much right now I can barely stand it.
“I don’t want to be empty. Everything was empty before you.”
“You are genuinely the worst person alive.”
“And your pretty little cock is dripping on the sheets and you haven’t told me to stop.”
He stayed in the arms that held him while they had been crushed and suffocated, the same arms that had held him under water while humming to him, aching for the gentle touch of hands that had killed him.
“I went looking for a feeling,” Asher said. “Or to kill a fear. I didn’t go looking for a game and I did not go looking for a person.” His voice had gone quiet and certain, the precise register, the one for things that mattered.
“I came out with you.”
He had chosen this. He had begged for it. And somewhere in the exhausted, satisfied haze of his wrecked body, he knew he would choose it again tomorrow. And the day after that. Forever.

