Page 82 of Entangled

“What makes you think,” he finally asks, “that I didn’t want you then?”

When I hesitate, he raises his brows questioningly. “Hmm? I seem to remember your hands all over my cock. Beau showed you just how I liked it.” The corner of his mouth lifts humorlessly. “He’s a good friend like that.”

My mouth drops open, my breaths becoming shaky. Do Iremember? The memories might incinerate me on the spot.

“I think...” I swallow, then clear my throat. “I may remember... something... like that.”

He snorts dryly, and I blush, then sigh heavily, flustered, confused. “You didn’t want me, not really. If you did you would have... you know.”

I look at him significantly, the fire in my cheeks deepening.

Dom gives me a bland look. “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.”

I only just suppress a growl. My God, he’s infuriating. I lift my hands, one becoming a circle, then I push the index finger of my hand frantically into the hole. Then I knot my fingers together helplessly, as if to erase the ridiculous gesture.

Dom stares at my hands, incredulous. “You did not just do that.”

I cringe. Okay, I’m ready to expire now. Just let me be dust and ash.

“If you don’t even know how to talk about it, little librarian, you shouldn’t be doing it,” Dom says, sounding so dryly mocking that I bury my face in my hands.

He’s smoldering dark and arrogant before me, lethal and armed in his Ranger’s kit. I feel him lean in close, and goosebumps lift all over my skin.

“I didn’tfuck you?” he says in a rough voice. “Is that what that game of charades was meant to be? Because I remember fucking you until you came dripping around my fingers. I remember you choking on Beau’s cock. I remember you begging for my dick.”

My whole body clenches around nothing, and I breathe him in. I’m slick and throbbing, and starting to feel very, very warm, but...

“You didn’t give it to me,” I whisper, and his lips firm, tensing. “I begged you and you didn’t—because you weren’t ready.”

Our conversation in the river plays through my mind like a recording—a conversation largely led by Beau. I was so caught up in my own joy and pleasure-drunk state at the time that I never even noticed that Dom made me no promises. Not even the hint of one.

“You were there for me when I needed you,” I continue softly. “But if you really wanted me, if you were ready for it, you would have taken it all.”

“I’m so glad you’re here to tell me how I feel.” He’s harsh, but I feel the pressure in him.

“Isn’t it?” I’m not proud of the way my voice lifts. “Tell me that you wanted me, that you were certain it was the right thing. Tell me that you want to share me with Beau, and you have no reservations. Tell me I’m the only one you think about.”

Dom takes a long, deep breath, then pulls back from me and turns away. He rubs his neck, and I swallow hard.

Then Dom laughs, but it sounds almost... annoyed.

“You have me all worked out, is that it?” he asks as he turns back to me, dark and imposing in the night.

There’s a danger in his tone, and it’s wrong that it makes me flustered. It’s too close to how he sounded when he chased me through the clearing and ripped my clothes from my body.

“Am I wrong?” I ask quietly, and the shadows do seem so very murky around us. They’re going to haunt me again tonight, and Dom won’t be there to keep them at bay.

“It’s complicated, and I have bigger things to worry about right now than—” he starts tartly, throwing my earlier words back at me, but I don’t let up.

“Tell me that you feel nothing for Heather.”

At the mention of Heather, his eyes sharpen on mine, gleaming in the moonlight.

I push past the rough, terrifying beauty of him, and add in a whisper, “Can you really say that all that history is just... laid to rest?”

Dom’s gaze shifts, until he’s staring somewhere over my shoulder. “Heat and I...”

The nickname is like a scald, but he doesn’t seem to see my grimace. There’s a deep crease in his brows when he trails off again, and he gives another frustrated little head shake.

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