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She emerged from his car, locking it, and pocketed the keys. As he reached the driver's door, he put one hand on the handle, and started fishing for keys in his jeans pocket with the other.
"Duncan," she said firmly. He looked up, startled. He hadn't remembered she was going to stay. Or maybe he hadn't expected her to do so. "I'm fine," he said, his voice hollowed out. "I'm just going to drive home."
"I'm glad you're fine. But no, you're not. Get in my car."
She went to her Mercedes and waited him out. As she did, she put his keys under her seat, a hard to reach spot and not the first place he'd look.
She tapped out a song on the steering wheel, humming to herself. He might refuse to get in her car. Hitchhike his way home. If he tried, she debated the merits of knocking him on his ass with a glancing blow of the bumper to get him in the car, but ruled it out. It might scratch the car's paint.
About five minutes later, he opened the passenger door and got into the car. He gazed forward, as expressive as a crash test dummy. No anger, no sadness. Just blank.
She leaned over him, pressing her breast into his chest to pull his seatbelt across him and latch it. As she drew back, she caressed his thigh. His eyes swiveled to her, flickering with something. Signs of life. She wanted to kiss him, hold him, but that wasn't what he needed.
She'd already programmed the GPS for the hotel where she'd made reservations for the night. It was about thirty minutes away, because she wanted to put a decent amount of distance between him and the energy of this place, even though they'd have to return to retrieve his car in the morning.
She didn't ask him questions, didn't speak at all. His gaze had returned to the windshield and he stayed in that position, not moving, his hands loose on his thighs. A couple times she saw them clench in reaction to whatever thoughts were going through his mind. Energy was getting denser around him, a feeling of impending detonation. He was locked down, likely strapped to a powder keg of emotions too strong and conflicting to let loose.
She remembered the night he'd been kicked out of The Zone. He'd gone straight to the fighting ring. Everyone had their coping mechanisms. Belatedly, she realized she should have made a reservation at a fleabag hotel where broken sheetrock and scarred furniture was part of the decor.
Yes, maybe he needed to do violence. But when violence wasn't an option, men would sometimes choose the closest thing to it. She'd see if she could channel that violence toward a different kind of passion. She'd already opened that door, with the earlier directive she was sure he'd forgotten. She'd be happy to remind him of it.
When it finally came into view, the Marriott was a welcome sight, because that vibration had become so strong she was starting to wonder if they'd make it before everything blew. She put her laptop bag and food tote on his shoulder, threading his arm through the straps. She tugged on them to catch his attention. "Carry those and come with me."
He stood mutely in the lobby while she handled check-in. From the surreptitious looks of the desk staff, she expected they were picking up the unstable vibes, his stillness too peculiar not to be noted. She gave the clerk a reassuring smile as she handed over her credit card. When she moved toward the elevator, she made an imperious motion toward Marius that fairly screamed "Come, boy." It pulled him out of his head enough to earn her a narrowed glance from the steely gray eyes. His mouth set in a flat line, and he started to look a little mean.
Yeah, triggering him out of his stupor wasn't going to be the problem. The challenge was going to be channeling it in the right direction. He was like an animal in a cage.
It was unsettling, how often he inspired that analogy from those around him. He'd been dubbed "Rabid" as a fighter. Tyler had told Regina she had the key to his cage. "It's up to you whether to unlock it or not." Now here she was, using the same imagery. But though he might think he was trapped, she knew Marius himself clutched the key to that lock. She just had to help him realize that.
They were on the fifth floor, a corner suite where they'd have plenty of room and lots of privacy on this weekday night. "Put them down there," she said, pointing to the desk. The bed was a king with a heavy wood headboard bolted to the wall. The jacuzzi tub and bathroom were equally spacious.
She moved back to the center of the room. He stood a few feet away in the lamplight, his hands loose at his sides, but nothing about his body loose. He was rigid as a corpse, except for his eyes, which were tracking her movements. Good. Grasping the hem of the tunic top, she removed it, standing before him in black leggings, boots and burgundy satin bra. She removed her jewelry, placing it on the nightstand.
"Want me to service you now, Mistress?" He spoke at last, a cutting edge to his voice. He thought he was as far away from her as the moon. She was about to prove him wrong. They were so close together they were sharing the same still, explosive point of the universe. His eyes had latched onto the quiver of her breasts, held up high in the satin. If he was a beast in truth, saliva would be gathering around his fangs. He wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck or eat her, but both weren't out of the question.
"As a matter of fact, I do." She cocked her head. "You remember the night I transformed you into my stallion? You could have freed yourself from the ropes I had on you. But where you went in your mind, you didn't have hands to untie them, did you? Only hooves."
Taking a step closer, she let her hand drift over the top of her breast, down her abdomen to play with her navel piercing. He tracked the movement, a quiver going through him. She wanted to see that tension play over his muscles.
"Take off the shirt."
He did it with impatient jerks, an aggressive shrug of his shoulders. His muscles were so unyielding they stood out in stark relief from the play of light and shadows in the room.
"You've tried a lot of things to throw me, Marius, but none of them work, because I see past the bullshit. I see you."
Tonight, she'd call forth another kind of animal. The human male, at his most primitive. Her pulse elevated, recognizing the signs that the hunt had started and she was walking the fine line between being huntress and prey.
"I know you're a violent man. I also know you're a good man, maybe sometimes even a gentle man. I'm not as physically strong as you are. I know how to defend myself, but you've learned that, and the darkness inside you is ready for it. If you want to hurt me, you'll be able to do me real damage. Maybe even finish the job you started the other night."
His attention snapped to her face. She'd startled him. "Is that what you want, Marius?"
Another ripple through his upper body, his jaw setting. "No." His gaze latched onto hers, and she saw the pain flash through it, jagged crimson. "I need to leave."
"You don't have my permission to leave. You're not going to damage me, Marius. I'm not physically stronger than you are, but I am stronger in another way. Here." She tapped her temple. "And that's what you need the most."
The meanness resurfaced. "No." He growled it, eyes roving over her with glittering avarice. "Not the most."
She bared her teeth. "If pussy and a pair of tits were all you needed, you wouldn't have asked me to be here, before all your shields kicked in and you ripped up the note."
