Page 33 of Vicious

I hold my breath when I feel him start to stir, but when I try to extricate myself from his grasp, he only pulls me more tightly against him.

“Ah-May, good morning,” Chase murmurs in Chinese. His lips brush the back of my neck, and one of his hands starts to roam over my body—mercifully clothed in the pajamas I’d made the night before.

I squirm, but he only moves that hand to my breast and pinches my nipple. I can feel his erection pressing against me already—morning wood, I guess?—and for a moment, I wonder what he dreamed about.

It’s stupid. Why would I even care?

“Let me up,” I tell him, not bothering to try to speak in my pathetic excuse for Chinese.

I can feel Chase smiling against my skin. “Why should I? I have you where I want you, and…” he trails off. “Wait. What time is it?”

“How am I supposed to know?” I grumble. “You’re the one who wears the watch that costs enough to feed a small nation for a month or ten.”

Chase groans and raises his arm, showing off his fancy watch for both of us. It’s early still, just past 6 a.m. I’m not unused to waking up this early, but that was usually when I had an early morning job.

“Ugh.” Chase curses. He buries his nose against my head. “I want to fuck you, May. But if I do that, I won’t be able to get my swim in before I need to be at the office.”

He’d mentioned being on the swim team as a kid. I’m not surprised he still swims, considering the lean muscles and defined abs. “Oh, darn,” I say, relief flooding me. “Guess you’d better get up and go to the gym.” It must be a really, really expensive gym, something that caters to the upper echelon of society. They probably do stupid things like pat the sweat off their customers’ brow or whatever actually happens there.

Chase drops his arm onto my body again. He seems to notice that I’m wearing the PJs, because he pulls the shirt up and slides his hand onto my stomach. “Gym? No, I have an indoor pool. Specifically so I can’t be lazy and decide it’s not worth going out to the gym.”

Of course he has a pool, and of course he has a fancy-ass indoor pool. Why am I even surprised? Spoiler alert: I’m not, not really.

His fingers trace patterns around my belly button, and I suck my stomach in instinctively.

“What happens if you hit your head and drown?” I blurt out. “Because then I’m stuck down here until I die. You should really let me wander around so I can take care of myself.”

“I guess the housekeeper would find my body, and then somebody would come in to inspect my house. Humans can survive fairly long without food, and you’ve got plenty of water in the sink. You can tell everybody what a monster I was.”

“Well, when they find me in your secret torture dungeon, locked away from the world, I think they’ll figure it out pretty fast,” I point out tartly.

Chase lets go of me and sits up with a yawn. He looks different with his hair tousled and his face still groggy from sleep. He gives me an appraising look, and I don’t think sleep is exactly on his mind. “Do you swim?”

I give a jerky shake of my head. I’ve never had reason to learn. It’s not like I could afford an indoor pool in a mansion with super-secret rooms.

“Really?” Chase frowns at me. “That’s not good. What happens if you fall into a lake or a river?”

“Why would I fall into a lake or a river?” I ask, puzzled. “It’s not like I go near the water—not unless a psychopath decides to try to drown me, but hey, you have a pool to do that in.”

“Well, I definitely want to swim with you sometime.” Chase reaches out for my neck, and I tense, but all he does is unlock the collar and unhook the leash. “Come on. We’ll do a quick swim. Thirty-minute lesson.”

I mentally berate myself for not checking his pockets for the key to the lock. I get out of bed and stretch, though, and the irritation turns into curiosity. “Um.”

What kind of teacher would he be? Patient, cruel? I don’t know. He’d probably be amused if I started to drown, I start to think, but that’s not right. He has to protect his property—and he probably doesn’t want to handle a dead body.

Great. Well, that’s a perfectly morbid way to start off the day.

“Come on.” Chase hooks one finger under my collar and tugs on it. “And because I’m so nice, I’ll let you wear those pajamas to the pool.” He gives me a smirk. “I’m trusting you, sweet May. No running away, unless you really want to know how I can make your life a living hell.”

Only he could say those words so jovially, I swear, and I shudder at the ideas that pop into my head. Nope. I’m not going to risk it.

At least, not yet.

“I’ll be good,” I promise. One venture upstairs might lead to another, then another, then eventually, he might let me wander around by myself. It wouldn’t be so bad if he did, would it?

Who am I trying to fool? A gilded cage is still a damn cage.

Chase seems to believe me. I’m glad he’s trusting me so easily, although I don’t know how to feel about that, either. He simply doesn’t believe that I’d be a threat.

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