“You know, some women want a gentle touch, but that doesn’t compare to being manhandled, having your clothes ripped to shreds, an elegant belt placed around your neck, and then being paraded like that for half the campus.”
“You’ll get over it,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek.
“If you had done this,” I point at myself, “to another girl, she would’ve been amidst a mental breakdown at this point.”
“Yet here you are, enjoying yourself.”
“Maybe my breakdown is internal.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re not weak. You can handle anything.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.” Another kiss. This time on my neck, and his dick is no less hard than it was a minute ago. “Tell me a truth about yourself. Anything to distract me from wanting to get you back upstairs and do to you the things I promised. Or don’t, and let me do all of that and more.”
Not now. I’ll let him, but on my own terms.
“Summer!” The name comes out as a warning when I take too long to answer, while his grip tightens on my waist. My mind is all over the place while I struggle to figure out what insignificant information I can offer.
“I love cooking.” Lame, but true. I might as well tell him more. It’s not like that’s classified information. “Used to, at least.”
“Why used to?”
“Because I cook only for the people I love. There are none left now.” Half truth. Half a lie. I still have Raven, but she doesn’t even know I’m alive.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” his voice is low and gentle, as his palm skims the skin of my arm in a featherlight caress.
“It’s not like you did it, so nothing to be sorry for.”
But I’ll make sure your father is sorry.
“What happened to your family?”
I shake my head. That’s as much as he’ll get from me.
“You asked for a truth—I gave you one. The rest you haven’t earned the right to know.”
“Yet.” He lets a moment of silence pass by before his grip on me secures further. “Why only for the people you love?” he continues, fingertips tracing down a strand of my hair.
“Cooking is love for me. I pour so much passion into that seemingly simple act that not everyone is worthy to be on the receiving end of my efforts.”
My brain doesn’t have time to process another gentle kiss on my neck before a jolt of shock runs through my body when Raven enters the house.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
How did I not factor in she’d be here for Link?
I need to leave, but I’m pretty certain Atlas won’t let me. I need to come up with a plan before she sees me.
My attempt to face him is met with resistance. He doesn’t let me move, probably acting under the assumption I want to get away from him. I need to turn and buy myself time, so Raven won’t recognize me.
“Let me face you,” I whisper, soft and inviting.
He turns me so fast I get whiplash. Palms on his chest, I catch myself enjoying the intricate designs of his tats. I want to ask about them, I want to know their meaning, but now is not the time. Now, I have to get out of here before Raven blows my cover.
“You wanna hear something funny?”
“Always!” His eyes hold a gleam of hope that I’m letting my guard down.
