"You don't trust me," I say, nodding with understanding. "I can't blame you for that, not after what's happened to you."
Of course, that's not all. He has every reason to be suspicious of someone who has been keeping notes about him for the past few months. Who wrote about his most intimate moments without his knowledge.
Someone who's still in possession of a business card that could turn all of this into a lot of money, more than he ever offered me.
I still don't know where we stand. I don't know what this is between us or where it might lead, but I know one thing.
I can't do it.
I can't sell him out like that. Even if it meant more money, less worry, an actual dream come true - I could never live with myself. How could I ever do this to the man I love?
The man I love.
I'm startled at the thought. Is that it? Do I love him?
The truth is, I think I do - but I can't tell him.
He can read it on my face, the internal struggle is written all over it. I've always been bad at hiding my feelings.
"Put your glass down."
He speaks in a tone that suggests a change of mood, a change of dynamics between us.
I comply and place my wine glass on the table next to his Scotch. As soon as I do, he pulls me onto his lap. I straddle him, bathing in the dark depth of his eyes when he takes my face between both his hands and brings me close to his.
"You know I wish I could," he whispers. "I wish I could trust you."
"You can," I say, my voice shaking. "You can, Sir."
It's easier to say these words now that I've made up my mind. Now that I know I couldn't betray him, no matter what the monetary reward. His heart has been broken enough, and all I want to do is to glue it back together. I want to fix what others have destroyed. And I want to do it without getting rid of the carnal darkness that lives inside him because I love that side just as much. I crave it, and I wouldn't want him to be void of it.
He pulls me in for a kiss, and the way his hands dig into the flesh around my hips reminds me of just how much I need him to be the dark monster he can be.
Sometimes.