Page 45 of Exquisite Temptation

"You did well, pet. The wax looks beautiful on you. It's a shame to take it off." His low, hoarse voice cuts through my reverie.

I snap my lids open and stir uneasily, taking in his deceptively composed expression. I can’t tell what he is thinking or feeling. This is not how to tell someone you love them.

"Thank you, Sir." My cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger at myself. He pulls in a sharp breath and exhales deeply.

"Hold still while I clean you up."

"Yes, Sir." I swallow, unable to wet my parched throat.

An invisible, unwelcome tension stretches between us. I grow unnaturally still as he drags the sharp blade across my skin, scraping the wax off. The oil he applied before the session helps it come off quickly and painlessly. He takes off the restraints, lending me his hand to climb down. While I throw my clothes on, he wipes the bed, and we plod to the living room, following our usual aftercare routine. Reclining on the couch, I switch on the television and play relaxing ambient music to calm myself. Christopher places the tray with tall glasses of water, sandwiches, and fruit on the coffee table before he eases himself onto the sofa. My stomach coils in knots, killing my appetite.

"How are you feeling, pet?" His obsidian dark eyes, like blazing fire, scorch my soul, leaving nothing but ashes.You fucked up big time, girl.

"I am-" my voice trails, heart rattling behind my ribs. I grab the glass and drain it in one long gulp, but it isn't enough to lubricate my dry throat.

"Umm. I’m sorry for ruining the scene-" He opens his mouth to reply, but I raise my hand, stopping him. "Please let me finish. I’ve fought hard to keep my feelings for you buried-" I pause as his dark eyes, piercing sharp as thorns and the haunted expression on his handsome face, threaten to derail the fragile hold I have on my self-control. I drown my lungs with air, locking my gaze with his. "But the more I shove them back in, the faster they claw their way back up. I'm deliriously in love with you. When I’m with you, nothing else matters…I’m utterly and completely lost on you." He stares at me with his mouth clamped and gaze fixed.

"How long?"

"From the moment our eyes locked across the bar." He pauses for a moment, the muscles along his jaw ticking furiously.

"Did you agree to the contract because you hoped I’d fall in love with you?" I wince at his question, the blood sliding through my veins like needles. No point in lying to him. Tell him the truth.

"Yes, Sir. But I’m not a fool. I knew it was a long shot." The words drop from my mouth like stones.

"Fuck!" He rakes his fingers through his hair and springs up, pacing up and down the room like an enraged tiger.

Tears prickle behind my eyelids, and my throat muscles strain to contain the emotions brewing inside me like a storm.

"I’m not asking you to break your rules for me or love me back, Christopher." My words stop him in his tracks. I rip the leather collar around my neck and drop it on the table. "I can’t do this anymore. I’m done." He lifts his head, staring at me with a mixture of hurt and indignation. Whizzing past him, I grab my shoes and bag, charging straight for my car. On my way home, Christopher calls me repeatedly, but I turn it off because I’ve nothing left to say.

Silence greets me when I walk through the front door. I plod to my bedroom with my shoulders dropped, gait slow and unsteady. A pin of grief jabs at my chest, piercing my heart. Tears spill over and flow down my face like a river escaping a dam. I collapse on the floor, curling into a tight ball as a rush of bitter remembrance punches me in the gut. I vowed to never let another man hurt me, yet, here I’m on the same road again, all alone, crying the tears I’ve cried before.He didn’t hurt you. You did it all by yourself, just like you did with Tristan, my annoying self reminds me.

Chapter 27

Christopher

Theannoyingmelancholypatterof the falling rain drumming incessantly on the patio windows does nothing to lift my wretched mood or the harrowing headache pounding my forehead. Since the day Micaela walked away, Isis hasn’t stopped pacing around the house searching for her. The sound of her shrill, mournful yowls pierce my ears, driving me mad. Trotting in my direction, she jumps on my lap and bumps her head in my hand.I fucking miss her, too.I stand in the middle of a burning lake of despair, devouring me piece by piece each day. Nothing I do takes away the intense, crippling pain of losing her. I have driven repeatedly, like a creep, past her house but haven’t had the balls to knock on her door. Her silence speaks volumes, screaming at me she doesn’t want to see me ever again.

Love is cruel and savage, it sneaks in when you least expect and rips your beating heart from your chest. It took her walking away for me to realize how madly and obsessively in love I am with her. In retrospect, all the signs were there. I was just too fucking blind to see them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She is my obsession, addiction, and the only person in this world that could bring warmth to my cold, dead heart. She is a Babylonian temptress, my Exquisite Temptation. As God is my witness, I’m ready to sell my soul to the Devil and burn in hell for an eternity just to make her mine!

The doorbell jingles, announcing Sebastian’s arrival. I leave sleepy Isis on the sofa. Last time we saw each was at the club a month ago. We have both been snowed under tons of work. Then he went on a business trip to Japan for a couple of weeks. I trudge to the hallway and swing the door open. Sebastian holds a box in his hands, staring at me with a mixture of disappointment and compassion in his eyes. Micaela must have told him what had happened. My throat tightens, cutting my air supply as guilt crushes my chest. I tip my head, motioning him for him to follow me. We drop on the large sectional; the air vibrating with tension.

"This is for you." He leans forward, handing me the box. I raise my brows in surprise.

"What is it?"

Reclining on the large cushion, he exhales a long, inaudible sigh. "Your early birthday present."

I tear the brown paper with impatient hands, revealing a red and black brocade box. A soft gasp escapes my lips when my gaze lands on the authentic, handmade Samurai Katana sword. Black cotton strings are woven around the long handle in an intricate pattern with the symbol of a scorpion etched underneath.

"Holy Cow! This must have cost a fortune. Thank you. You shouldn’t have." I pull the sword from the sheath, admiring the wickedly sharp blade shining like a diamond.

"Keep that blade away from me. It’s lethal." Sebastian throws his head back, shielding his face with hands and grinning at me. Throwing a smirk at him, I slide the sword inside the scabbard. "And by the way, thank my sister, not me. I only brought it from Japan. She found the Master swordsmith and ordered it for you." A thin chill hangs at the edge of his words. I give him a sidelong glance of utter disbelief.

Of course, it’s her. She is one in a billion, precious as the rarest diamond. And just like her brother, she is thoughtful, kind, and loyal.Not only did you lose her, you lied to your best friend, you giant ass. Now, suck it up, own it, and apologize.

"I’ll not make any excuses. You have every right to be angry with me. I know it was wrong for me to keep my relationship with Micaela a secret. You’re my best friend, and I would lay down my life for you. I’m so sorry for betraying your trust, and I hope you will give me the chance to make it up to you."

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