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He steps onto the balcony. Looks to me.
It's too dark. I can't make out his expression. I'm concerned. I don't want to be concerned.
He doesn't get to fuck with me like this.
I try to ignore him as he moves closer, but I can't. He's so there.
He stops at the railing. "You were flirting with him."
"So?"
"What if he expects something?"
Seriously? "When did you get overprotective?"
"You're not being smart."
"Because I flirted with the bartender? Or because I told Cheaty McHandsy to fuck off?"
"Both." His voice quiets. "He could hurt you. He's bigger than you. It would be easy for him to overpower you."
"I could hurt him."
"How do you figure?"
"I know this whole watch out for the kid sister thing is new to you, but I'm not a wilting flower. I can hold my own against people who are bigger than I am."
Out of nowhere, he grabs my wrist. Hard enough it hurts. Hard enough to threaten.
He keeps that same pressure as he moves closer. Until he's right behind me. Close enough, no one can see what he's doing.
No one is out here.
No one can see.
I should tell him to stop. Or fuck off. Or mind his own fucking business.
But I don't want him to stop. I want him to go. To follow this thread until it unravels completely.
"Cam." My breath is a whisper. A please. I'm not sure what we're talking about. Only that I want him.
"It would be easy." He pulls me a little closer. "Trivial."
"What are you—"
"What would you do?" He grabs my other wrist. Holds my hand against his side. "Do you really think you could overpower someone my size?"
"He wasn't your size."
"Sienna—"
"Stop saying my name like it means something."
He doesn't reply.
"I don't know what you're doing. If this is part of the game you're playing with me. But stop it. Stop toying with me."
"Tell me you'll be careful."
"Really? That's what you're doing here? Reminding me men can hurt me?"
"Yes."
"Bullshit."
"I'm worried about you." He pulls me hard. So my body is pressed against his.
A gasp falls from my lips. Fuck. That's intense. And it feels so fucking good. It's wrong it feels so good, but I don't care.
What did he say about possession? I don't remember.
I only know I want it. I want to be his. I want to be claimed.
Even if it does ruin me.
Even if he hates me after.
I swallow hard. "If this some way to prove you're fucked up, okay, you win. I believe you're fucked up. You never had to convince me of that."
"I could hurt you."
"Probably." He's a few inches taller, a lot bigger, and better trained. "But I could hurt you too."
"No." He slips his arm around my waist. "You could try, but I'd overpower you."
"Cam—"
"Tell me to stop."
"I don't want you to stop."
"You should."
I shake my head. "I don't. But only if you mean it. You don't get to do this. You don't get to warn me about strange men. Or growl when I flirt. Or grab me like you're going to throw me against the wall. Not if you don't want me."
"I want you."
"And that. You don't get to say it. If you want me, take me. Now or never, Cam. Which is it?"
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cam
There's still a right answer.
It's the same fucking answer.
Something mature. Reasonable. Responsible.
I'm supposed to be the adult here. Say no, of course, you're right. I'm being an arsehole. I can't take you now. Even if everything was different, if you weren't completely off-limits, if claiming you wouldn't fuck up both our lives.
Even then—
I'm not good for you.
And I care about you.
So, no.
Of course not.
I'm not a monster.
That's what I should say.
But I can't.
There's too much fire in her hazel eyes.
"Sienna." My hand goes to her chin. "You don't know what you're asking."
"I do."
"No. You don't."
"Two hours ago, we were sitting here, teasing my sister about how easily she bruises. I know what I'm asking."
"No." Maybe she has the same dirty desires. Maybe she fantasizes about being hurt. I don't know. But—"It's different when it happens. It changes you."
"Maybe I want to be changed."
"If I start"—I swallow hard—"I can't promise I'll stop."
"Okay."
No. It's not okay. It's never going to be okay. "Sienna."
"If you don't want to do this, fine. But you don't get to use me as an excuse. It's your choice, Cam. I'm saying yes."
"But you don't know. You can't."
"Then show me."
"I might hurt you."
"I want you to hurt me."
Fuck. My balls tighten. I want her every way I can have her. But this—"Have you been with anyone?"
"Will you be jealous if I say yes?"
"Yes."
"My boyfriend last year. We fooled around, but we didn't have sex."
"Fooled around how?" My stomach churns. I am jealous. Painfully jealous.
It's ridiculous.
I try to tell myself it's about love, affection, intimacy. Maybe it is.
But it's about sex too.
About wanting her to be mine and mine alone.
