Page 37 of Tell Me Why
“Aidan, hold on…” I pull the condom out of my pocket and hold it up between us. “Put this on and fuck me.”
There’s a moment of silence, and before Aidan can grab the condom, a hand reaches between us and clamps around my wrist like an animal trap springing shut.
A familiar voice fills the darkness. “You won’t be doing that, Aidan.”
It’s Christian.
Shit. I’ve really fucked up now…
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Eve
My pulse throbsagainst my eardrums, the rhythm growing louder until it’s the only sound I can hear in the silence, a steady drumbeat from within.
How did Christian find me? This house is filled with people, all wearing masks, including me. The only thing my panicked brain can come up with is that he had been passing by and heard my voice. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Sorry, man, but this fox is already claimed,” Aidan says, clearly not realizing who he’s talking to.
“That’s right, she is,” Christian growls, shoving his hand into Aidan’s chest, fisting his shirt, and violently shoving him away from me. “And you need to get the fuck out.”
When he lets go, Aidan stumbles backward and slams into an upholstered chair. Shadows play across his face as realization crawls into his expression.
“Fuck,” Aidan hisses, struggling to his feet. “Sorry, man, how was I supposed to know?”
“Just leave,” Christian bites out, his eyes locked on me.
Aidan rushes out, bumping into various pieces of furniture before making his way out the door. Christian and I are alone now. In a dark room. And now he’s pissed.
“I don’t suppose there’s any point in me trying to explain…” I say.
“You’re right, there’s no point in trying to feed me bullshit,” he says, stepping into the space Aidan was just forced to vacate. “I told you to stay upstairs.”
His warmth seeps into my skin, and it’s everything I can donotto focus on it. “I’m a grown woman.”
Listen, it’s a flimsy response, and I know that, but what else can I say? Not the truth—that I’m down here to snoop around and maybe get some dick. No way.
“What are you doing down here?” His hard, glacial tone tips down my spine and makes me tremble.
I clear my throat. “I was curious...”
“I’ve already told you that I hate liars, Eve.” He grabs my wrist and pulls it up. Like an idiot, I still have the condom in my hand. “You want to try that again?”
The lighting in here is dim, but not dark enough to hide his face. His pale eyes are narrowed, his chiseled jaw clenched, pulsing. I’ve seen angry, resentful Christian before, but this is something else. This is a quiet rage that seems more sinister somehow, more lethal.
“How did you find me?” I’m somehow brave enough to ask.
His hand tightens around my wrist until it feels like my bones are going to snap. “That moment in the closet wasn’t enough?” he asks, ignoring my question. He leans in while jerking me forward at the same time. “You want a cock to fill your greedy cunt?”
Blood rushes to my clit, making it throb.
“That’s not what this was,” I lie, trying to sound confident. But it’s already too late to salvage this. I’ve fucked up here. Royally.
“Get down on your knees,” he bites out coldly, tearing the mask off my face.
Panic bubbles up in my chest, and my throat bobs. “Christian, listen?—”
He pulls something out of his pocket, and I hear aclick, right before something cold is pressed against my throat. A switchblade. The sharp tip digs into my skin and sends my pulse racing. “On your fucking knees,” he repeats, anger punctuating every syllable.
