Page 14 of Cruel Fate

My panties are so damp they feel soaked, like I got my period. Zane could have taken me easily, slid right in. I’m so ready, so swollen it’s almost painful, and my breasts are heavy with arousal. Zarah can tell as I stagger to the table by Zane’s side, but instead of sharing a look or teasing me like I expect, she looks away, tears glistening in her eyes. Maybe she’s feeling the guiltZane said would come, indulging in a night like this, or she and Ash fought while we were outside.

I still don’t like the look of him, his hand curved possessively around the nape of Zarah’s neck. Like he could just as soon slap her as kiss her. I prefer Zane’s handsome, soft features. His quick, sad smiles.

Before we leave, I use the ladies’ room. I ask Zarah if she wants to join me, but subdued now, she stays behind, and I’m grateful. I need the few minutes alone. If Zane asks me to stay the night, I don’t know if I can say no. I should. We only met yesterday.

In a poor attempt to cool down, I run cold water over my wrists.

If I want something real, I need to go slow. We’re teetering on the edge of starting something that could matter or turning our relationship into a quick and dirty fuck. A “see you later” the next morning as he stares at the floor, my shredded panties in my purse, shame cracking my heart wide open that I gave myself to a man who wasn’t ready to love me.

Having Zane in my life will complicate things. He isn’t the type of man I picture when I think about having a husband, the father of my children. Of course, I’m not thinking about any of that right now, but I always thought I’d end up with someone responsible, trustworthy.

Middle class.

If I let him have me tonight, maybe he’d toss me out and my life could go back to the way it was before I met Zane Maddox and lost my mind, but if I think this could be it, if Zane could be the one, well, that changes things. Jumping into bed would be a death knell for any relationship I would want to start. Men are like that.

Respecting myself will teach him to respect me.

Going slow and telling him I want to get to know him before we sleep together would show him I don’t think of him the way he thinks of himself. Man whore. Fuckup.

Ash is waiting outside the ladies’ room, leaning against the wall, his ankles crossed, scrolling on a kind of phone I’ve never seen before. It would be like Ashton Black to use a device that isn’t available to the public yet.

The dimmed lights don’t soften his features. His dark hair is brushed away from his face, his nose a little too sharp, but it gives him an air of control. His jaw is cut in a clean line. He doesn’t carry an extra ounce of fat anywhere. I bet he has the control to fuck a woman all night. Until she cries out in pleasure . . . or pain. The line is thin between them.

He narrows his eyes at me, and I swallow. I don’t like him, and he knows it. I say a quick prayer because God help me, he doesn’t like me, either.

“Zarah’s been telling me all about you,” he says, straightening. He runs his fingers through my curls, and the desire Zane woke in my belly withers away in fear and disgust.

“What has she told you?” I force myself to ask.

“This and that,” he says vaguely, the backs of his fingers touching my cheek. I do my best not to flinch.

“We only met yesterday. She couldn’t have told you much.”

“So she said. Zane seems besotted by you, as well.”

“Zane’s hurting.” Ash is his best friend. He should know that.

“They both are. It would be a shame if some poor urchin thought she could take advantage of my friends.”

Ash’s hard behavior clicks into place, and I prickle. He’s pegged me as a gold digger without knowing a single thing about me.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I know I don’t fit in here. I don’t have any interest in being a part of this world,” I try to explain, though I don’t know what Zane will think if Ashtells him what I say. “I thought it a polite thing to do, being Zane signs my paychecks and all.”

Ash nods. “I understand. Let’s chalk this up to a fun night out on the town. After tonight, we’ll go our separate ways, and you’ll stay in the basement where you belong.”

If I’m looking for a sign to tell me which path I should choose, then this would be a bright billboard in King’s Crossing’s square, but I don’t like him thinking he can tell me what to do. What Zane and I do is between us, not us and his friend.

“Okay,” I say to get him off my back.

“Good girl.”

Ash’s approval doesn’t lessen the tension when he looks at me, doesn’t make me feel like he didn’t just threaten me. He grabs my upper arm, his fingertips digging just a little too hard into my skin, and escorts me back to the table.

Zane’s looking healthier, his skin not so sallow. He’s talking to Zarah, but they’re both melancholy and their laughter lacks any real joy. He spots Ash holding onto me, as if I’m a prisoner waiting for a chance to escape, and his eyes harden.

I slide next to him, and he rests a hand on my leg. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I flash him a dazzling smile and finish the warm dregs of my champagne.

---