Page 57 of Chain Me
“That you think of sleeping with me,” I added before he could deliver the cruel retort that I knew was poised on the tip of his tongue. “Is that true? Is it?”
His silence became unbearable. So I opened my eyes, hating how they burned. “I could stomach the sex if that were all you wanted,” I confessed—and it was the truth. Bartering myself to him had been a mere transaction, nothing more.
Or so I’d tried to claim. Over and over, I had fed on that lie.
“If wanting me was as simple as desiring a pawn in a game, then fine. If my virginity were a token prize to you, I could understand. I could even understand if you had a fetish for innocent little virgins like Saskia sniped. But…” I racked my brain for the right words. Something far more dignified than what wound up spilling out instead. “But stop teasing me. Please.”
He stared expressionlessly, so intent. So silent.
Ah.So thiswasanother game. A part of me sighed—partially frantic, partially relieved. If only he would admit as much, then all of the confusion could cease. The memories. The ache in my throat as I remembered his touch. The throbbing pulse between my legs when he crept into my thoughts at night. All of it would stop as soon as he said the magic words.
You think I’d lust after you? Think again. Your money is all that is appealing about you. It’s your sister I truly want. It’s always been her.
When his jaw twitched, I held my breath in anticipation. Finally…
“Why does it terrify you?” he wondered as if truly curious. “The thought that I might want you.”
“Why?” I gestured between us with a wave of my hand. “Because I’mme. And you’re you.”
“A monster?” Heavy-lidded, his gaze became more unreadable than before.
“No!” I stammered, too confused to convey what I meant. My only salvation turned out to be the bluntest of terms. “You could have anyone you ever wanted. Beautiful, perfect women.” And God, it stung to admit that. More than it should have. “Anyone. Like…Georgiana. Don’t tell me you haven’t considered her.”
Saskia herself had hinted at as much.
“Just tell me and I could understand.”
Rather than go slack with relief, his jaw tightened further, his eyes narrowing. Not in anger. More thoughtfully, as if the answer to a puzzling conundrum had just presented itself. One so obvious that he was openly skeptical of it.
“You truly believe this?” His tone conveyed more than he said out loud.That’s why you’ve been ignoring reality? Living in denial?
“Of course!” I had to laugh, choking out the pathetic sound. “I have eyes, Dublin.”So just admit it,was the part I held back.Please admit it.“If sex is all you want, fine. But don’t pretend like you want something more beyond that.”
“Like?”
I wrung my fingers in exasperation. “Like something requiring the serious discussions oftumorsand what they might mean. I can’t… I refuse to play that kind of game with you. You accused me of being in denial, but maybe I’m being realistic? I am not ready to handle something like this.” It stung to say it, but at least I could. “And neither are you. The sooner we agree upon that point, the easier this will be.”
There.I broke off, panting and satisfied with the extent of my confession.
Now, it was his turn.
“Come here,” he commanded, beckoning with a crooked finger.
I lurched, fumbling with my seat belt. Once freed, I crossed over to him, maintaining my balance with the gentle motions of the plane. He shifted, leaving enough space beside him for me to sit, and I did, sighing.
Finally,he would say it. But rather than speak, he took my hand and unfurled every finger. Then he placed it on his lap, right between his thighs.
My palm seared, instantly registering what lay beneath it. Firmness. Hardness. Evidence of something that made my stomach clench and my teeth snap together. In shock, I tried to pull away—he gripped me even tighter.
“Perhaps I’ve humored your naivety for too long,” he mused, sounding eerily calm despite the part of his anatomy proclaiming anything but control. “Do you truly believe that I intended to announce my return at all? Let alone to you?”
I squirmed, uneasy. It sounded so obvious when stated out loud. His abrupt resurfacing hadn’t been a trick, or a mind game like I’d assumed, but…
Impulsive?
“How did you even know?” I asked, playing along. “Where I was?”
“Believe it or not, findingyouwas not my priority.” A low sound trickled from his throat, too terrifying to be mistaken for a laugh. “My sole intention for returning at all was to convince Goodfellow in person to relinquish your case. My efforts to block her attempts from afar had proven ineffective and she is no fool. When she began consulting experts in theoccult, I decided to intervene.”
