Page 43 of Pray for the Damned

“The same as usual. Goes to work. Goes to the club. Goes home.”

“Very well.” He ends the call without saying goodbye, as always, and my eyes drift closed out of exertion. I can’t put a finger on when dealing with him became a chore, but his general lack of emotion and inability to communicate like a normal human even grates on me, an apple that fell straight from the tree. At least it doesn’t sound like he’s planning to visit anytime soon, a small mercy if there ever was one.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and step forward, scanning the bar area for Emmett and Waverly, but instead I find it empty.

There’s no chance they haven’t gone to a private room, so I turn toward the exit and head toward my bike. Maybe I can get a couple of hours of sleep before I set up shop outside Waverly’s apartment for the night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

WAVERLY

Iunderestimated how big a part my nerves were going to play in this agreement.

Soft trembles vibrate through my body as Emmett leads me through the Scarlet Lounge and toward the private rooms.

I thought I knew what it meant to be anxious, but this is different. This isn’t being worried about not knowing where my next meal is coming from or how I’m going to pay my electricity bill. This is pure terror about handing my body to a man I don’t know very well and hoping he doesn’t break me for every man in the future.

It shouldn’t feel wrong to think about being with anyone after Emmett, but it does. Maybe it’s because the partners I’ve had in the past have meant nothing, and even as perfect strangers, I feel like Emmett sees me in a way no other man has. Or perhaps it’s because he knows what he’s doing. Even if he hasn’t practiced, even if all his experience is from watching alone, there’s no scenario where he doesn’t have me coming apart at his touch as soon as we step into that room.

His hand is firm against my lower back, pushing me forward even when my limbs feel heavy and uncertain.

What if this is a mistake?

What if I like being with him too much and then he leaves?

What happens when I have to run again?

The possibility of having to pack up my life and move across the country without a moment’s notice is always in the back of my mind, but for some reason taking this step with Emmett makes it harder to fathom.

We pause at the end of the hall in front of a door like all the others we’ve just walked past.

“Nothing happens that you don’t want,” Emmett reminds me, his thumb brushing over my back softly.

“I know,” I whisper.

The hand not pressed to my lower back reaches out and pushes the door open, giving me a few seconds to catch my breath before he steps forward, and I follow him without hesitation.

I’m starting to think I’d follow Emmett blindly to the end of the earth, and maybe that’s why I’m so fucking nervous.

My gaze darts around the room, taking in the huge four-poster bed in the center that could easily accommodate three or four people, the wall of spanking instruments, and the generously stocked side table of lube and condoms.

It’s exactly the same as the room Hannah showed me, but now that I’m about to use it, I’m seeing the crimson and black decor in a whole new light. It’s similar to the rest of the club, but somehow it seems more sinful in here with Emmett’s attention on me.

He takes my bag from me and drops it by the door before his arms wrap around my waist, tugging me back against his hard body.

His warmth comforts me despite how hard my heart beats in my chest, and I find myself relaxing against him despite myself.

“You’re tense,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin of my throat. “How about a massage?”

I look up at him and find him staring down at me with so much heat it steals my breath straight from my lungs, but I nod. It’s as if my body is moving on autopilot, and I’m just along for the ride.

He gently nudges me toward the edge of the bed, and I go willingly. The dull ache from my fall yesterday seems insignificant to the lust and panic swirling around one another in my chest.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been intimate with someone, but I don’t think that’s why I’m so anxious I can barely breathe. No, it’s entirely about the fact I’m about to be intimate with someone because I genuinely want to. It’s not to get me ahead, or to repay a favor, or even just to feel someone else’s touch after so long on my own.

No, being with Emmett is my choice, it’s something I craved with every breath I’ve taken since I met him.

Emmett’s fingers tease the hem of my dress, giving me a chance to stop him, but I couldn’t if I wanted to. I want everything he’s offering, even if I’m terrified to admit that to myself.

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