Page 40 of Prey for You

I would have laid money he didn’t have the discipline, though. He was so buttoned up at work, I bet he’d get out on the prowl and go full-stalker. Maybe rapist. Get too full of his own importance—like that fucker Ronald. I’d have to look into this guy on the side, see if there were any charges or accusations in his past that had been hastily covered up.

“I can assure you that after my prison time I never once overstepped a boundary, or engaged in a practice with a woman who wasn’t consenting,” I said calmly, smiling. “Not.Once.”

“Did you have sex with them?”

Dammit. I stiffened, not because of the question, but because there was a sharp little inhale from Bridget andfuck.

“Yes,” I admitted reluctantly. “Early on, after I got out, there were some. Yes.”

“How many clients have you had since you left prison, Mister Priestley?”

“I haven’t counted.”

“Okay, how about in the last two years? I’ll allow you to estimate, just give us an idea.”

I glowered at him. “At least six. Maybe eight. I would have to check.”

He nodded. “And you’re saying thatnoneof those women ever felt that you took things too far?”

“No.”

“How can you know?”

I frowned. “I assure you, they’d make it very clear if I did.”

“Did they run when you hunted them?”

“Yes.”

“Did they struggle, Mister Priestley, when youtook them down?”

“Yes, but as I said, that was all part of the—”

“Did they say no? Bite? Scream when you inserted your penis into their bodies?”

I flinched. It sounded so sick when he put it that way. “Yes,” I growled. “But again, that was theplan.”

“Were they sometimes fighting you so hard that they were injured in the process?”

“Objection—asked and answered. He’s harassing the witness.”

“Yes,” I ground out.

The lawyer shook his head, but kept his eyes on me. “Mister Priestley, you are describing activities in which you stalk, attack, and rape women—”

“It’s not rape when theyaskedfor it!”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I sank back in my chair because I knew… The lawyer smiled and everyone in the room shifted in their chairs. He let the words hang in the air so they were left there, looping in everyone’s heads. Fuck.

She asked for it… she asked for it… she asked for it…

“I mean sheliterallyasked for it,” I growled. I could feel Bridget’s eyes locked on the side of my face. I wanted to meet that gaze, to plead with her—sheunderstoodthis!—but Icouldn’t let this guy leave it hanging there. “These women wanted to be taken. When the interaction was done I gave them aftercare—made sure they were patched up and we talked about what worked for her and what didn’t, what she’d like to change for the next one. It wasn’t rape because she’d given consentbeforehand.”

The lawyer leaned forward. “How do you know, Mister Priestley?”

“Because I was there for the conversations and—”

“No, sir, I mean, in the heat of the moment. If a woman changed her mind—perhaps she got hurt, or just didn’t like it.How would you know?It appears to me that everything you’re describing is a crime—a crime she may have agreed to the day before, but what if she changed her mind? What if her struggles were real? What if her screams weren’t faked? What if she said no and meant it?”

---