Now, it was my turn to smack Cage.

Of course, I didn't. I was still too intimidated by him to do that. Unlike Fern, I had the courage of a pencil sharpener that did sharpen pencils but made a squeaky noise when it turned and messed up the tip of the pencil. I had the courage of a pencil sharpener whose blades would be ruined when someone stuck a coloured pencil in me. Wow, that analogy didn't sound as good as it did in my head.

Fern raised her eyebrows (she still had both of them, unlike yours truly) but said nothing. Nick and Heath snickered. My face was so hot I could fry an egg on my cheek. Okay, maybe I should stop with these dumb analogies. They never seemed to work out anyways.

"No thank you." I smiled back at Cage.

"Okay." He smiled back nicely, but it was the kind of smile a seal did to a penguin before gobbling its sorry little butt up. "I'll find it myself. Shouldn't be so hard. Is it covered in Justin Bieber posters?" And with that, Cage turned his merry self around and walked out of the living room, heading towards the staircase.

I gasped and ran after Cage.

"How dare you!" I tugged his sleeve but it did little to stop him. Cage continued going up the stairs, dragging me along behind him. "I do not have Justin Bieber posters in my room! Fern's room and mine look the same. I bet you can't tell the difference. Have fun finding my room, you crumb!"

Cage stopped in front of my door. "It's this one, isn't it?"

I stared at Cage in distaste. Maybe the giant letters that spelled out my name in glitter hanging in front of my door was a bit of a giveaway. Yeah, I probably should have thought this through.

"No."

"November, your name on the door kinda makes it obvious it's your room."

"Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." I shrugged.

Cage smirked and pushed the door open, much to my horror.

My room looked exactly the same as it did before I was kidnapped. Accidentally, of course. The bed, shoved to one corner (it was a clever placement, that way the creepy crawlies of the night only had one side to attack me from) was covered in pillows and the blue sheets were everywhere. Clothes littered the rose-coloured carpet along. My favourite giant red beanbag surrounded by books lay in the middle of the floor. The walls were covered with pretty pictures and the frilly pink curtains made me cringe.

As if my room looking like a hurricane went through it wasn't bad enough, I spotted one of my bras hanging from the corner of the computer chair. It was lacy and black, something that Fern got for me as an April Fool's joke because she knew I was never going to wear it.

"Cute." Cage smirked, stepping inside.

I closed the door, wanting to sink into the carpet with humiliation. This was the first time a boy has ever been in my room. In fact, I think it's been several years since anyone other than me had stepped into my room. And this wasn't just any teenage boy, oh no. This was the notorious Cage Vickers, CIA's most wanted criminal, who was in my bedroom.

"Hey, you wanna go to Taco Bell? There's one within walking distance." I'd have done anything to avoid the chance of Cage noticing the bra.

The smirk on his face confirmed my worst fears.

"I'd rather not." Cage walked over to the chair. "Princess, I never figured you for a lingerie girl."

Picking the bra up, he chuckled softly. The sight of Cage Vickers, in my room, holding my bra and laughing at it, was more than I could take. Blushing, I snatched it back from his wandering hands and shoved it deep into one of the drawers of my bureau. Cage began to walk around, poking and picking at things while I followed after him, complaining.

"I don't see why you have to stay here." I grumbled as Cage picked up a stuffed bunny and threw it at me just because he was an asshole. "Of all the places, Cage! You own an entire building full of empty lofts and houses. You have a cabin. You have Delia's. You have your really cool underground lair that has your house in it-"

"Yes, but all those places doesn't have you." Cage said quietly, walking over to my bookshelf.

I was about to retort something mean when I realized what he said. Gosh, Cage just couldn't leave things uncomplicated, could he? He had to go and say all these random, sweet things that made me want to kiss his stupid face and then he would do something mean that made me want to kill him the next second. Cage Vickers was all sorts of tangled, wasn't he?

Taking a seat on the edge of my unmade bed, I watched Cage. My room wasn't very big to begin with and his hulking presence made it seem even more crowded. Cage was wearing a black coat with a white button down and a black tie. His hair was all messed up as it usually was, but it was the nice kind of messy. His jaw and cheeks were covered with a thin layer of stubble. The bandage on the back of his neck was dotted with a patch of red blood. When Cage raised his hand, I noticed a little black tattoo on his middle finger that I'd never seen before.

"Shel Silverstein." Cage suddenly said. I snapped back, hoping he didn't notice how I was checking him out. I looked up to see the book A Light in the Attic in his hands. "This was my favourite book growing up."

"Really?" I said in amusement. "I never figured you for a bookworm, Cage. You know, I thought in between the killing and drugs, who has the time to read?"

"You shouldn't make assumptions, princess."

"My assumptions about you usually turn out to be correct, Cage."

His eyes were light with curiosity. Putting the book back into the shelf, he walked towards me and flopped down on the bed. I scooted away but Cage pulled me back easily with one tug. He rested the side of his cheek on my arm.

"You smell good." Cage mumbled.

"Stop smelling me, you creep."

He smiled at that. Cage's stubble pricked my skin when he moved his head. Picking up my arm, his fingers traced gently over the laceration that I had given myself when I was taking out the tracking microchip Heath unexpectedly put in me. Under the orders of Cage, of course. For some reason, everything associated with Cage Vickers had an uncanny habit of ending very badly. Never for him, but always for everyone around him. His touch was so delicate that I barely felt it.

"I can't believe you did this." Cage said. His tone was hard and disapproving. He stared hard at the scar and frowned. "If you wanted it removed, you could have asked me. There is a way to take out tracking chips without ripping half your flesh open."

"If I asked you to take the chip out, would you have?"

"No, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point, Cage?" I asked. "Whatever I ask you, you will never agree to it unless it benefits you in some way."

His eyebrows furrowed. "That is not true."

"Agree to disagree."

"You can ask me whatever you want and I will give you a solid answer." He replied defensively. "The answer might not be the one you want but it-"

"-Benefits you while hurting others." I finished lightly.

Cage frowned. "November."

I frowned back. "Cage."

"What?"

"Can I ask you a question?" I said softly. If there was anything I wanted to say, I better say it while Cage willing to give me a definite answer. He looked at me and his face was wiped clean of emotions. I had gotten used to his cold face by now so it didn't bother me quite as much. Nothing bothered Cage, though. Playing with a strand of Cage's hair, I cleared my throat. "Why did you take me back to Ivey when you seemed to be so determined to never let me go back home before? You gave in so easily, I didn't expect it."

Cage reached up and pulled my hand away from his hair. He laced his fingers through mine. "Because I wasn't going to fight you on it anymore. I meant what I said back in Alberta, November. I am done. I'm done dealing with your stubbornness. You're one hell of a fighter. After everything I put you through, I could give you that much. Can I ask you a question now?"

"Sure."

"Before, you said your assumptions about me usually turn out to be correct. What are these assumptions, princess? I'd like to know."

"Well." I poked his cheek and he swatted me away angrily. He hated it when I did that. That's why I loved doing it. Pestering Cage Vickers was lots of fun, honestly. Dangerous and stupid, but fun. "When I first met you, I assumed you would be a douchebag. And look at that, I was ri-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence as Cage reached across the bed and squeezed the side of my stomach. I burst into laughter. Not like the girly giggling mess that normal people would do when tickled, but the gasping seal chortling guffaw mess. Even Cage looked a bit startled.

"I bet you're ticklish too." I said after I calmed down a bit.

Cage gave me an amused look. "Nope."

To prove my point, I reached over and squeezed the side of Cage's abdomen like he had done to me. He didn't even crack a smile. Horrified at the realization that there might be people in the world that somehow were not ticklish, I began to scurry my fingers across his stomach, horrified even more when he didn't laugh. My theory was right. Cage was created in a laboratory by evil scientists who apparently forget to add the human response to being tickled. See, even evil scientists messed up sometimes.

"You're ridiculous." Cage pulled my hands off his stomach.

"You're not human. Who doesn't laugh when they're tickled?" I peered into his eyes intently. "Are you sure you are a fully functioning human being? I mean, you didn't crawl out of a crashed spaceship in the middle of the forest at night when you were young, right? You came out of a vagina, right-"

A pillow flumped into my face.

I frowned at Cage, who only grinned back. "I've got another question for you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"You're not what I expected."

"That's not a question. What did you expect, November?"

"I don't know." It was an honest answer. I really had no clue what I expected him to be like. I watched Cage carefully. He leaned back on my bed, his muscular arms with intricate veins running down to the tips of his fingers resting close to my back. His stubble-covered jawline was sharp enough to be appreciated and for some strange reason, I wanted to reach out and trace every contour of his face, feel how prickly the stubble was, how soft his lips where. I wanted to feel his hands on me. I needed Cage to touch me and that dangerous temptation was a sign of how badly our goodbye could end.

I reached out and ran my fingers across the indent of his collarbone. In a flash, Cage's fingers wrapped around my wrist, stopping the advance just like he did when I played with his hair. He didn't want me to touch him. "Stop." The simple word was translated into a clear order in his tone, one that I completely ignored.

I twisted around and fell back until I was laying on the bed, my hair splayed across the sheets and Cage was sitting beside me, the fire in his eyes only gaining more of a burn. Yanking my hand out of his viced grip, I traced the shape of his lips with the tip of one finger, barely touching. His mouth parted slightly. Amusement crawled through me. "Stop what?"

Two could play his game.

Cage was quick to force my hand back down. "November." He growled. It was a clear, concise warning of what was to come if I didn't stop, the monster lurking behind a nice guy facade. Not that Cage was exactly a nice person to begin with. I didn't know why I was flirting with the dark side when I knew the consequences to my actions would hurt me greatly. It was fun teasing Cage. A dangerous, stupid fun that was as addicting as any drug. Except this wasn't any drug. This was Cage Vickers, famous criminal billionaire.

Once more, I pulled myself out of his grip and smirked. I reached up to trace his jawline. The tips of my fingers barely made contact with his skin before Cage all but shoved my hand away.

"Tease me one more time and I will make sure it's the last thing you ever do."

The look on his face was too tempting for me to resist. I wanted to test exactly how far I could push Cage before he snapped. The mercy he showed me all through the past five days when I knew what he was capable of was too fascinating to not explore. Boundaries had to appear somewhere. So far, I had gotten away with a lot. Now, I wanted to see if I could get away with more. To see if Cage would live up to all the great expectations of mine. To be as merciless and cruel as everyone said he was.

I wanted to break Cage Vickers.

His eyes were wary of my actions. I reached up and tugged flirtatiously on the short end of his black tie. The knot became untied and I pulled it off, smirking.

That was as far as I got.

Angry now, Cage pulled his tie out of my hand, the little string holding him back broken with the restraint displayed in his dark eyes. It slipped out easily from my fingers with one rough tug. I was bewildered. Where did this courage come from? Why did I continue pushing his limits when I knew that it could only come back to hurt me? Cage had a very short temper but a very strong restraint. He could hold back for only so long. In the end, Cage was nothing but human and even he had a snapping point.

Grabbing both of my wrists tightly in one hand, Cage used his free one to wrap the silk tie around them. Before I realized what he was doing, both my wrists were roughly bound together with the very same tie I pulled off him. Seeing now that I was pretty much helpless, Cage's hand slowly made its way up my stomach, pushing back my shirt so he could touch and touch dangerously.

"Is this what you expected?" He asked, voice low and deep. I found myself being pulled up. Cage suddenly switched places with where I was, so that I was laying on the bed and he was on top of me. My throat felt itchy. Cage was hovering over me, close enough in such length that he knew would make me squirm. I couldn't do much since my hands were tied. His fingers wrapped around my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. "Is this what you wanted me to do? Tie you up and fuck you until you beg me to stop?" He leaned closer, his breath fanning across my cheek. "Because I can do that."

All of my courage from before miraculously disappeared with those uttered words.

"I asked you not to tease me. Your little games are very dangerous." Cage whispered. His lips were moving against my ear, barely touching but I could feel how each word formed from his mouth. I struggled fruitlessly, it only made Cage press me down harder against the bed. "I asked you to stop, November, and yet you continued to fuck around with no thought of consequences that might follow your reckless actions. There is absolutely nothing stopping me from taking you right here other than my decency. And I have very little of that left."

His fingers twisted through my hair and pulled none too gently. I turned my head, breathing heavily. Cage was breathing heavy too, each breath dancing across my collarbone. Using one hand to keep both of mine captive, Cage used the other to press it against my stomach. His lips brushed the delicate skin of my neck, placing a gentle kiss there.

But Cage Vickers doesn't do gentle.

His fingers, already tangled in my hair, pulled up. The effect Cage wanted worked out perfectly. I kicked my feet out sharply, trying to throw him off. His teeth attacked my neck, biting down hard until I knew there would be a bruise there to admire the next day. He didn't draw blood, just enough pain to make me curious about the restraint Cage mentioned before. Control was everything. But right now, I was not the one who had it.

"This is your last warning, November." The words tickled my skin. Cage's tongue darted out and pressed itself over the bite mark. His warm tongue did nothing but make the pain even worse and my stomach twist. "If you tease me again, I will make sure you regret it. Keep your innocence for someone else. Aggravate me and I will be the one to take it. Unless that's what you wanted in the first place, princess."

He said princess like he hated the word.