Play with the Phantom (Midnight, #2)

by Amanda Richardson

And then, his voice, low and dark, vibrates against me. “Don’t say his name while you’re riding my face.”

Maddox is carved from something rougher, honed into something sharper. A man forced to become a predator to survive.

He’d rather face the lurching fear of the Ferris wheel than let me go up alone.

“Why did you come with me?” I ask softly, keeping my voice even. Maddox doesn’t look at me right away. His gaze stays fixed on the horizon, the ocean stretching out in an endless sprawl below us. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to answer. Then his throat bobs, and his fingers flex against his thigh. “Would’ve been worse watching you go without me,”