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“Stop saying why,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Stop making me say it.” He remains completely unruffled.
“You don’t have any regrets?” I ask, confounded by his lack of remorse.
“None. How could I? It’s you.”
“But, you don’t…hate me still?” I ask.
His brows draw together in surprise. “I was ten, Regan. I didn’t mean it and by the time I got my head clear enough to apologize, you’d left for college. I wanted to apologize for what I said. I was jealous because I wanted to be your boyfriend. I was too young to understand how ludicrous that was. But I have never, ever hated you. I’m here because I want to have sex with you, in every way it’s possible to have sex, as many times as you’ll let me.”
This is too much, I am caught in a maelstrom of confusion and horror and to my surprise, lust.
He touches the tip of that wicked tongue to mouth and smiles. “And I love the way you taste. I want more. And I know you want to give it to me.”
I want to deny it, but it is pointless to try. So, I just walk to the bathroom and stay there until I hear him say, “See you tomorrow, Goddess.”
I crawl into my big empty bed, and I lie there, wishing he was there.
Can I Kiss You?
Regan
“What did you do to him, Reggie? He’s been watching you all night.” Matty nudges me.
I grimace and shake my head, “Nothing that’s ever going to happen again, and he knows it.” I take another sip of my ginger beer and vodka, but I hardly taste it.
“Are you sure he knows that? He’s sure not looking he does,” Matty teases in an amused, sing-song voice.
“It doesn’t matter. I know.” I skewer her with a challenging glare.
She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Oh, come on. It’s at least a little flattering that he’s looking at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of here.”
“Not at all,” I say and Matty gives me a knowing side eye, but doesn’t say more.
She knows I’m lying. How could I not be flattered? I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked in. Once I met his gaze, thinking he’d look away when I did, but he just smiled.
I haven’t looked again. I don’t want to encourage him to come over and start talking.
Between spending time with Matty and running into Stone, it’s like my past is trying to make itself relevant again. That is the very last thing I need.
My present is enough to deal with.
I’ve been beside myself with mortification. But when a memory of the night before randomly intrudes into my thoughts, it leaves me hot, panting, and wet.
My body is still on fire from what he did to me with his mouth and his gloriously thick dick. God, whoever said size didn’t matter had never come across one like Stone’s. I’ve seen dildos less perfect.
Since he left my room, I’ve been swinging on a pendulum of indecision. I spent half the day thinking about how to make sure we don’t find ourselves alone again. The other half was spent hatching frantic schemes to ensure we did.
Which is crazy. Last night shouldn’t have happened.
It was so wrong. But I’m very attracted to him.
If I’m honest, my body isn’t the only part of me that’s responding to him.
There was something about the little boy who I found hiding in the back room of the bakery that summer. He was so sad and so brave. And the harrowing experience we shared the last time he came to the bakery re-shaped the trajectory of my life.
Last night, when he looked me in the eye and said, “See you tomorrow,” I saw it. The determination that filled the glittering depths of his eyes was the very same I saw in his expression right before he stabbed Weston in the back.
