“Stop,” Grant said. He held my face in his hands, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. Forced me to look into his eyes. “Stop thinking about it. Think about us.” Those three words hung in the air. “Think about our training.” I tried. We were in his exercise room. I guess it was my exercise room too. “Think about last night.” My mind wandered, and I thought about Grant, glaring down at me with a slightly swollen lip. Right after I bit him. His lips were better now, and my whole body was bruised. “Think about how you felt when you spit in my face.” I could think about that. I had wanted more. It was the only way I could convince him that I could take it. And he had given it to me. “You’ve hit me before. You scratched me. Gave me a scar.” I smiled a little, though I didn’t see any scar on his brow. He was being generous. “Fight me, Hazel. Fight me with everything inside of you.”
I swung a fist at him and he immediately dodged it, swooping behind me. “That’s it,” he said. I thrust my elbows each way, struggling to find him, and he evaded my shot. “Good.” He bounced back and forth on his feet, ready for me to attack. Then he startled me, plunging forward and grabbing me, my arms struggling for movement in his grip. “Bend forward. Make space for yourself.” I thrashed until I had room. “Now—” My hand sailed backward, hitting him in the stomach. A surprise gust of air rushed out of him, and I faced him. As he straightened, he added, “Run,” he said. “Don’t look back.”
We were home. Where was I supposed to run to?
He pounced forward and I squealed. His hands wrapped behind me, locking me in a bear hug, while I squirmed. His legs, his thighs pressed against me, his strong stomach, those soldier’s arms. Holding me still. Dominating me. His captured prey.
His breath on my face. I looked up. A flicker of desire waved across his eyes, his bulge responding.
For a moment, I forgot what we were doing. His arms were around me, holding me tight. His clean scent, mixed with sweat and spice. His brown eyes reflecting mine.
Christine’s voice rang through my mind:I’d never trust that fucker with my life. You don’t know what he’s capable of. Not really.
He read my face, and let me go. My blouse was stained with sweat, his and mine. Without a word, I went to my bedroom, slamming the door shut. He didn’t follow me. I stripped naked, getting into the shower, letting the icy knives of water pummel my body.
I wanted to trust Grant.
But even if he would never hurt me, in the end, he would leave me too.
Because that was the point, wasn’t it?
