Page 24 of Prey Tell
“Is this one of your stupid parties?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
My lips tug up. “My point exactly.” I look at the door. “Now, you’re going to go back out there to your doting fiancé. You’re going to plan the wedding of your dreams. And you’re going to live happily fucking ever after, yeah?”
She nods. “Of course.”
I take a step back. “And you forgive me for thisover the topparty?”
She shrugs. I can’t read her right now, but I think I see respect in her eyes. “Don’t think you can buy my forgiveness that easily, Ravage,” she teases.
Good. We’re back to calling each other by our last names.
I crack a rare smile. “I’ll earn it, then.”
She nods. “Have fun at yourparty,” she says quickly, her cheeks turning red. “And thank you. I think you’re right. I’ve had too much to drink.”
Good girl.
“I’m glad you’re thinking clearly now. You’d never be caught dead at a party like that in a million years.”
She pushes off the desk and walks past me, brushing my shoulder as she goes. “Thank you for the party, Chase. But I won’t be taking another cent of your money. Now excuse me as I go back to myfiancé.”
CHAPTERFIVE
THE RECKONING
Juliet
They say monsters are made, not born…
Chase Ravage was both.
And his words have a way of sinking their claws into the darkest recesses of my mind over the next week.
After our little tête-à-tête, I’d managed to maintain my composure for the rest of the party. Though I didn’t see him again, I could feel his eyes on me the rest of the night. The tingling, hair-raising feeling persisted until I left with Dylan—and I made sure to show Ravage just howhappyI was all night. I’m not sure why, but I felt like I had a point to prove. Maybe seven-course-meal sex was overrated, you know? How long did that sort of thing last in the real world? Kids, jobs, old age… theconnectionwas the most important part. Compatibility. Stability. A smiling fiancé who kisses you chastely on the cheek when you cut the seven-layer cake.
And that night, I rode Dylan until he came—and a few minutes later, I came using Wolverine, pushing all thoughts of Chase’s thigh out of my mind.
I slept restlessly that night and the next six nights.
Does he treat you like a seven-course meal, Parker?
The question haunted me.
I’d turn to face Dylan, studying his face as though it held the answers. Ilovedhim. There was no denying it. We were six years into our relationship. It was normal not to feel that rush, that sense of euphoria when he was close.
Had I ever felt it, though? Even all those years ago?
I can’t remember… which makes me think I hadn’t.
Still, like I told Chase, it wasn’t the most important thing. Just because Chase’s close proximity turned my knees to jelly, and caused me to stumble over my words, it meant nothing. Nor did the fact that I had to squeeze my legs together when we were arguing. And his thigh—how he so expertly maneuvered it between my legs, indicating that he knewexactlyhow he affected me… it all meant nothing at the end of the day. And so what if I’d moaned? Sure, it was bold of me to do that, but I wanted to prove a point. He was underestimating me, and it made me angry.
He was and still is theonlyperson who can make me feel silly. I am a confident, accomplished woman. I give lectures most weekdays. I completed a full marathon last year. I am well on my way to being a tenured professor in a few years if I do my job well and accept the right job this fall. I have a handsome, caring fiancé. Things are good. No need to rock the boat.
So, on the sixth night of tossing and turning, I throw the covers off me and walk to my dresser. I can’t think straight. My mind is swirling with work, Dylan, Chase, the upcoming wedding…
Yesterday evening, during office hours, I’d had the strangest reaction to a compliment one of my students had given me.
“Ms. Parker, you’re going to be famous one day.”
