Page 35 of While You Sleep

I couldn’t believe I’d let him touch me again last night, god, that I’d begged him for it. He’d come on me, rubbed it in, commanded me not to wash it off, and I’d obeyed like the good little pet I was. What the hell was wrong with me? His alarm would go off soon, and I didn’t want to be here when it did. I carefully slid his arm off me, eased out of bed, snatched up some clothes from the closet, and shut myself in the bathroom.

Turning the shower to hot, I stepped in and let the hot spray sink into my bones as I lathered up and defiantly washed him off my skin, moving quickly. Even with the door locked, I was afraid he’d come in. My brain tried to fire images at me of what we’d done last night, and my skin heated, my nipples tightening without my say-so. How could I want him? He was everything I despised, he was a monster, the monster. I hated him for what he’d done, for the way he’d helped my father destroy my life.

His deep voice filled my head.

Then I’ll hold you to me until you settle back down.

I fought a shiver.

That was the last thing I’d expected him to say when I’d tried to tell him about my sleep disorders, when I’d asked what he’d do if I lashed out.

I shoved down the images, the sound of his voice, and got out, drying off quickly, then reaching for the bottle of body lotion sitting on the bathroom counter. I frowned at how light it was, and my gaze slid to my toiletry bag. Another bottle of the same vanilla-and-cinnamon body lotion sat inside, my new almost-full one.

My gaze slid between the two bottles. The one in my hand was over half empty. For that to be the case, it had to have been here a while, longer than a few days, definitely before Cillian, pretending to be Dean, walked into my apartment for the first time and fucked my life up completely.

What the fuck was this?

Quickly dressing, I grabbed the bottle and strode into the bedroom.

Cillian was up. He stood in the middle of the room, shirtless and in the process of doing up his pants. I hated that he was so beautiful, that I couldn’t stop myself from eating up the sight of his lean, muscled body. He looked up, his gaze slicing from my face to the lotion in my hand, and a darkness moved through his eyes.

My belly wobbled, but I ignored it and held up the bottle. “What is this?”

He said nothing.

“You’ve obviously had it a while, it’s half empty. How did you know I used it? You have the same towels as me and you had the same shampoo and conditioner as well.” I glanced at the bed. “Hang on, are those the same sheets as mine?” The unease grew to something else, bigger and awful. “How did you know what I used, the things I like?”

Cillian still said nothing, just watched me, and there was this…god, odd look on his face that lifted the hair on the back of my neck.

“You came into my apartment, didn’t you? Before you pretended to be Dean?”

I forced myself to hold my ground when he continued to stare for several more seconds, then finally nodded.

My stomach dropped, prickles of fear crawling all over me. “When I was there?” He didn’t move, stayed completely still. “How many times?” Again, nothing. “Did you come in while I was asleep? Did you watch me?”

His emotionless gaze moved over me, then locked on mine again. “Aye.”

Oh god. “Why? Why would you do that?”

The muscle in his jaw pulsed.

I drew in a deep breath, refusing to tremble. “Did Seamus want you to hurt me?”

He shook his head. “He wanted info on you.”

“And that included coming into my place while I slept.”

“No, that part was all me.”

Oh god. “Did you want to hurt me?”

“No.”

“How many times? How long were you doing that…watching me?”

“A while.”

“Months? Longer?”

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