Page 34 of Tell Me Why
There’s no way she could know my real intentions—she’s just picking up on what Jackson said. I have to remember she’s always listening, always watching.
I step into the narrow space that separates us. “I want you to get this through that pretty little head—what I do, and why I do it isnone of your fucking business.” I lean in and say that last part slowly, each word weighted with a threat.
Her eyes narrow. “I could walk out of here.”
This chick, I swear to God.
“Why, Eve? Why would you leave? Because of the Fox Hunt?” She glances away, and I grab her face, forcing her to look at me. “Or is it because you’re terrified of the effect I have on you?”
Pressing her lips together, she shifts on her feet, her eyes darting away, like she’s embarrassed that her body reacted to me so eagerly downstairs.
“You’re giving yourself way too much credit,” she says stiffly. “You had a mask on. I thought you were someone else.”
That last comment shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I tighten my grip on her jaw. “I’ve already told you how much I hate liars, Eve. You didn’t think I notice that as soon as you saw my face, you came all over that candlestick like a whore?”
She shakes her head, or she tries to, but my grip limits her movement. “It wasn’t like that.”
There’s a lot about females, in general, that confuses me—their crazy emotions, for one. Why does everything have to be so damn dramatic? But something I’m never confused about is sex, and Eve is an easy read. She wants it messy and violent, but she’s too afraid to ask for it. God only knows why.
I pull her face close, so I can brush my lips across hers. She lets me, which is surprising. “Do you need more proof? Should I demonstrate just how hungry you are for me?Hmmm, my spicy Little Fox?”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Eve
He’s bluffing.Well, Iprayhe’s bluffing, because I already know the effect he has on my body and it’s fucked up. Downstairs, I wanted to push him away, but couldn’t. It’s like he knewexactlywhere my kill switch was, and that’s probably the scariest part of all this—Christian West knows my body better than I do. In what universe is that a thing?
And even now, with him so close, my nipples strain against the tight bodice of the robe and my clit tingles, ready for more.
I’msopathetic.
But one thing that scene in the closet just made crystal clear: I need a good fuck. Seriously. Andnotwith Christian. If I could just take the edge off this insane energy that courses through me whenever he’s around, then maybe I could actually think straight, strategize, get what I need, and leave Rush House.
Because if the past day has shown me anything, it’s that there’s no way in hell I’m staying here for the entire three months. Sara’s right. I won’t survive it.
He’s still holding my face, and my eyes shift to his. I look up at him with boredom, even though my entire body is lit like a fuse. “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since this morning,” I say.
Searching my face, he eventually releases me and takes a step back. “Austin is bringing something up for you.”
I notice he says Austin is bringing food up forme,not forus.
“Are you leaving?” I tell myself I don’t actually care. I’m just asking so I know what’s happening. But if I’m being honest, there’s a nagging worry in my gut that he’s going downstairs to huntagain. Maybe to find Sara or some other girl who’s less mouthy and problematic than me.
Why do I care? I should be glad that he’ll be distracted.
“I’m the host of tonight’s festivities, so I’m going back downstairs,” he says. “You, however, won’t be leaving this room.”
I heft a breath, but don’t answer, because I’m not promising anything.
He notices my evasion, though, and he narrows those ice blue eyes at me. “Maybe I should tie you to the bed.”
“No,” I say quickly. “There’s no reason to. I’m staying here,Jesus.But tell Austin to leave the food outside the door. I’m exhausted. I might be sleeping.”
I’m not sure if he believes me or not. Eventually, he nods once, and the air that was trapped in my lungs finally escapes. I told him I’d “stay here,” but in my book, Rush House as a whole counts as “here.” So, technically, even if I leave the room, I’m not lying.
“I’ll be back up to check on you,” he says before leaving.
Asshole.I might appreciate the sentiment of him “checking” on me if it were coming fromliterallyanyone else. On the surface, it’s a nice gesture. But from Christian’s mouth, it’s anything but nice. It’s a threat.
