Page 46 of Blackmail
My brain’s not certain how to respond. My body has some suggestions.
“Anyway. That’s pretty much all of it. I felt shitty I couldn’t help you with your divorce situation, but I wanted to tell you about this in case it was useful in some way. Maybe you can get Tony to tell you something helpful. I’d better get going, though. Early day tomorrow.” He stands and tries to slide past me.
I could move, but I don’t. The flush on his cheeks gives me far too much pleasure.
“So…I said what I came to say. I’m gonna go now.”
Standing so close, I can see dots of moisture on his hair, face, and clothing. Because it’s raining outside, I’m returning to that night we spent together.
“I, uh, left my umbrella out in the lobby. Dripping everywhere. Your assistant might murder me,” he whispers.
Still, he doesn’t move. He licks his lips. Swallows. When he finally takes a step to edge past me, I grab his arm and slide my fingertips over the lingering bruises there.
“I had so much fun giving you these,” I murmur.
He swallows again. The wet sound has my slacks fitting tighter.
“Sebastian, I can’t—I really should go.” Simon’s words are mostly air, with no absolute authority.
Then there’s a flash outside—a too-close bolt of lightning. There’s a whir and grind as the building’s air conditioning shuts down. Everything is plunged into darkness—the entire block, judging from the view out my window. The only sound is the spatter of rain on glass.
I tighten my fingers around his wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter
Sixteen
SIMON
Funny how fast a guy can go from horny and breathless to pissed off.
“What in the ever-loving fuck are you talking about? I’m not your fucking prisoner.” I yank myself out of his grip, expecting resistance but not getting any. Which makes me fall backward, landing in the chair I’d just gotten out of.
It’s pitch dark. The swirling sky outside has no moonlight. Nothing to help light the room except an occasional flash of lightning.
Somehow, though, I can tell he’s smiling when he says, “No, but you’re stuck here. We both are. The building locks are electronic, and every place on the block is out of power. Until it comes back, we’re both, as you so eloquently like to put it, fucked.”
His lips brush my ear on that last word. I can’t suppress the shiver that goes through me. I clear my throat and pull on my best look of bravado. “Guess you do manage to toss out the f-word every once in a while.”
“Funny, I was beginning to think it was the only one you knew.”
Why is my heart beating erratically? If I weren’t stuck here I’d be tempted to get to a hospital and have myself checked out for A-fib. I’m lightheaded. My breathing is shallow. My hands are numb. Definitely something is wrong.
It’s the only explanation I’ve got for why I say, “I grew up getting whipped or having my mouth washed out with soap if I dared to use anything resembling obscenities. Once I got out of there I decided to be as obscene as fucking possible.”
I don’t realize Sebastian is touching me until I feel his hand tighten on my shoulder. “When I spanked you, was that?—”
“Not the same.” I mean it to sound firm. Confident. It doesn’t.
In spite of my height, I rarely feel small. I’m strong now. I worked hard to bulk up and I know better how to defend myself.
With Sebastian standing over me, a solid six feet of sexual intensity and a piercing stare I don’t need to see to know is aimed at me, I do feel small. Not that I’m afraid he’d use his size against me, but because I know from past experience that when he tells me he’s going to manhandle me, he actually can and will.
“Good. I don’t want to hurt you.” He laughs; a low sound that’s as dark as the room around us. “I’m lying. I want to hurt you a lot. But not if you don’t like it. Not if you’re unwilling.”
“I was willing.” Was. A necessary detail. My brain is screaming at me to make sure he knows that even though I wanted it then, I don’t now.
Even though it’s a dirty, dirty, filthy lie. God help me, I can’t possibly want him any more than I already do. I’ve seen what wanting gets me, though, and it’s nothing good. I’d almost rather get whipped nearly to death again than be the idiot who got in too deep with a married man.
