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If only he hadn’t told me that he sees me. That was a special kind of torture—one that had me agonizing all night. No one ever sees me, other than Ivy. But in the way of love interests, I’m two-dimensional. A list of qualifications that meet the needed criteria. Or the whisper of an empty tryst behind closed doors.
In the life I’m about to embark upon, no one will ever see me again. I’ll be officially lost. A ghost, which I suppose means the Lettie part of me will be dead in a way. One of the main reasons I don’t let anyone other than Ivy, and now Ty, call me that. It hurts.
Fuck. I can’t do this to myself.
Don’t dwell. Accept. Be the pawn promoted to queen.
“Still taking you,” he confirms. His eyes are the shade they were at La Lune Noire. Dark. Like the mossy green of moldavite glass—a rarity. “Ty said you had to be there at one thirty, so meet me in the garage at one.”
“Sure,” I agree, but my mind flashes to the endless fast and sporty vehicles they have stashed in that garage. They’ve only driven me in armored cars. “What were you planning to drive?”
He tilts his head, a smile tugging up his cheeks, his inconspicuous dimple daring to emerge. “Do you have a request, Ace?”
I purse my lips. “I thought maybe we could take one of the motorcycles.”
Rex will be pissed, but as he’s been my head security guard for the past few years, he’s no stranger to my exploits falling outside his approved provisions.
Liam’s mouth kinks in consideration, but there’s reluctance dancing in his eyes, so I add, “My security team can follow behind just as easily, and it’s a straight shot.”
And I need a boost of adrenaline to drown the ache surging through my veins. This is easier than a romp in the sack with a gorgeous golden god, who is an absolute detour on the path to becoming the First Mannequin of my destiny.
Jesus, I’m spiraling. But I can’t bear to be numb again.
His long legs stride across the space between us, stalking to me with an intent that appears feral, like he wants to tie me up and teach me a lesson. But he doesn’t touch me.
Oh, how I wish he would.
Forget the motorcycle. The golden god can throw me down, shatter my resolve, and smite me right here, scolding me in the glow of debauchery.
But no.
He merely crowds me against the wall like he enjoys doing. Energy zaps between us with an enlivening sting. I’ve felt the proof that I turn him on twice now, but is the live wire current only on my end? Maybe him invading my space isn’t anything special. Maybe he has a proclivity for caging things or people.
A trapper.
Peering down at me, he twirls one of my stray hairs around his finger. “If you were looking for a way to be pressed up against me, Carver, I have plenty of ideas. No need to hide behind a bike.”
His cockiness is equal parts amusing, irritating, and arousing. I loathe myself for the latter, but I’ll chalk it up to my impending bored-wife doom. I must reek of sweat and desperation. Can’t have that.
Play their game.
I pull my finger up to my lips, nibbling on the tip and peering up at him through the fringe of my lashes. “You caught me.” I giggle. “I was hiding something, hoping for an extra benefit with that motorcycle ride.”
His eyes squint, and I can’t tell if he’s eating this up or ready to spit me out. He sweeps his knuckles down my neck, over my thudding pulse, and my traitorous body shivers from the touch.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he rasps.
My eyes lock on to his. I keep mine wide and vulnerable, swallowing as though I’m choking back nerves. “It’s the easiest way to ensure I don’t have to hear the arrogant bullshit that flies out of your mouth.”
With that, I duck away and strut to my room, his dark chuckle echoing behind me.
I have no idea what I’m doing. Pursuing Liam is like carving granite—a block of stone that is strong, beautiful, and durable. Perfect for countertops, floors, building veneer. Headstones. Not what you choose for the finer, more delicate areas of life that require the finesse of intricate sculpting. My family would never approve.
But I want him, and maybe even more than that, I want him to want me. Not forever. I’m not a fool. Liam doesn’t strike me as the long-haul commitment type or even a casual-girlfriend kind of guy. Which is fine. I’ve already agreed to do my part for my family, and I’m always good on my word. I just can’t keep myself from taunting him. It’s like skydiving.
Liam Graves chasing me might be the biggest rush I’ll ever experience. A free-falling thrill of untethered fantasies. Too much of a high to pass up.
And as much as I wanted to fold myself into him in that elevator, enhance our intimate stance last night by the coffeepot, or admit today that being pressed against him is indeed a tantalizing by-product of the motorcycle, I’m smarter than that. If I want this rush to last a while, I need to make him work for it, or he’ll lose interest. He might hate me, but his cock surely doesn’t. Since my only goal is to relish him as a stimulating adventure preceding my entrance into a plastic world, that’s enough.
