“Do you want my cock again, my naughty butterfly? Because that sounds like a blatant lie.” I’ve just been inside her. How can she not know? How can she not remember? Am I too forgettable or has she had so many they’ve started to blur? She claims she’s only been with three men. Shane, Blake and the man with the motorcycle. But I know for a fact that’s just one of her many lies. “I think you know exactly who I am. You just don’t want to admit it.”
“If you’re so desperate for me to find out who you are, why don’t you just show yourself?”
Maybe I want her to figure it out on her own. Maybe I hope my Reagan will recognize me at last. Maybe I’m looking for proof of something that doesn’t exist. “Who is Mason Bloom?”
She sighs impatiently. “Take that thing out of my butt.”
I inflate it a little more and enjoy her screams. “Answer my question.”
“Fuck. Off.”
My hand caresses her forehead. “I can’t, darling. You’re wrapped around me like a cocoon. Every thought of mine that tries to escape dies beating its wings against you. My only way out is a metamorphosis I won’t survive. Because even when I shed myself, all that’s left is you.”
I stare into her eyes, search them for the one answer I’ve been dreaming to find. Isn’t that what happens in her books? He confesses his obsessive love, and she finally understands, she finally realizes it’s the best thing she will ever have, she finally falls for him, and they get their happily ever after.
She, though, is silent. Cold. Calculating. I bare my heart and soul to her, and she’s in her head, finding a way to use my words against me.
After everything—after I’ve shown her my devotion, my loyalty, my willingness to be anything she needs—she doesn’t give a shit.
I’m gonna make you pay for this, my little butterfly.
“You know what, Reagan,” my hand slides down her body, past her breasts, over her stomach, “I’ll grant you your wish. I’m gonna pull that thing out of your ass.” I start deflating the lolli and watch relief seep out of her pores. Then I lean to whisper in her ear, “Only to take its place myself.”
Relief turns into horror. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I? I’ve been very gentle with you, all things considered. Very patient. But my patience has limits, Reagan. And you’ve just found them.” I pull the attachment out of herasshole, savoring her moan. “Maybe that’s what you want. You want me to fuck your ass while you scream and cry and beg me to stop. You’re practically asking for it.”
“No. No!” Panic floods her face as I push the button that rotates the table.
“Who is Mason Bloom?”
“I told you he was my neighbor, and a biker. He…” A tearless sob escapes her. “He tried to help, before everything went wrong, but I didn’t let him.”
“Help with what?”
“Stop this thing. Put me back.”
The table groans halfway through its rotation. “Help with what, Reagan?”
“Shane. He tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen until it was too late, and we both paid for it.”
“How?”
“Please stop.”
The table locks with a dull click, completing the flip. She’s face-down, ass in the air now. I bend, catching her gaze from below, the world inverted between us. “Why are you protecting him?”
Her breath catches. “I’m not.”
“Then who are you protecting?”
Silence.
“Last chance, Reagan. What’s the real story of you, Shane and Mason?”
She just stares at the floor.
I straighten with a grunt. Then I move to the center of the table, getting out of my pants. “You have a very nice ass. I’m gonna enjoy taking it for hou—”
