Share Sunday: Furious Lust

Today I'm doing a fun little thing I like to call Share Sunday where I share something from my current work in progress or a book that is coming soon or already out. Depends on what my week looks like as to what you'll get from me. But right now, here's a tidbit from my soon to be submitted rough draft paranormal erotic BDSM novel, Furious Lust:

Though I was completely stripped of my powers as a demonness, on nights like this I wouldn’t turn away from my intuitive caution. And this wasn’t the first time I’d sensed this presence. No one had any specific reasons to keep me alive. At least none that they’d made plain to me—so as far as I knew, anyone could hunt me down, at any time, with one word from the council. How would I defend myself?
 
The whole situation set my teeth on edge. Pulses of pain jolted up my jaw as I attempted to regain control over my trembling fingers, fidgeting along the warm, steel bar. A man knocked against me from behind and I held my tongue. It took all my patience to not jump out of my skin. By now my fingers were numb from my grip and my toes curled against the tips of my shoes.
 
How could I have been drawn into coming undone? I—who prided myself on the steady speed and dexterous delights my hands could wield along a man—I have been reduced to a wary, thundering-hearted ninny. Before my punishment, my blazing anger knew no bounds. Now time had taught me caution, patience, and above all, fear.
 
A bodily impulse to hide, protect myself, born of self-preservation that I wouldn’t be able to leave behind until I was free of Earth. And perhaps, not even then. Tonight ignoring the sensation was worth a try. I wouldn’t let this awkward fear swallow me when my time was as fleeting as the Underworld council’s choices.
 
The dry crackle of the conductor called out the 14th street stop and I hastily exited the car knowing that my actual destination was several blocks away. A small walk would do me good. At least I wouldn’t be so smothered by people that I couldn’t think straight. It was too much to hope for to think that I’d left whoever had been watching me behind on the train.
 
No, life has not been easy and I’d grown weary of it.
 
I had dodged an imaginary foe for months. One of the topics I’d planned to bring up at my meeting, because the mental torment couldn’t be anything other than a new torture device devised by Hades. I was a pawn, nothing more. My skin pinched tight against my frame as if I couldn’t shake a chill. Even swathed in the muggy atmosphere of the underground station in mid-July—there was not enough heat to warm me.
 
For now, I no longer sensed the steady stare beating against my back. A small favor. But every clack of my high heels against the concrete echoed between my ears as if it were a gun shot. I couldn’t move quickly enough through the tiled, harsh yellow lit station. Not when tonight was a good night for mischief. No telling what was out there.