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I refuse to believe him. He’s far too deceptive for his apology to have been authentic. I have to chalk his sudden change in behavior as an attempt at more manipulation. There’s something he wants, and I have to figure out what it is and whether it’s worth it for me.
His sudden change of heart is too convenient, too far-fetched to consider. He was convincing, I’ll give him that, but I will not fall victim to him or his performance. Fool me twice.
I will not be played again. No matter how much I desire him.
The more I think about my conversation with him, the more curious I become about his fear of us being discovered.
Would they even care at this point?
It’s been nearly nine months of utter silence.
But something in Tobias’s confession alluded to the fact they would care—very much—about us sleeping together. And still, days pass without a word, without a trace they exist.
During our conversation at the clearing though, Tobias couldn’t be sure. He assumed that necklace came from Dominic.
Why?
What is he not telling me? That’s what I have to figure out.
But his admission to me was ammunition against him, and he said he wouldn’t fight me on it. He gave me a grenade and put my finger in the pin with the option to pull. I don’t see that playing to his advantage from any angle unless he thinks he can manipulate me into keeping our secret.
Or maybe confessing is exactly what he wants me to do.
Maybe that’s his motive.
The man is a walking mindfuck.
I’m in the midst of rinsing out my conditioner when a sudden but distinct electricity spikes my awareness.
Clearing my eyes, I peer through the glass door and spot Tobias standing just outside of it, gloriously naked while unmistakable thirst is evident in his expression. The second our eyes connect, all my thoughts fall away as my libido takes the wheel.
Might as well enjoy hell together.
He opens the door and steps in, just as I reach for him and our mouths collide. His kiss is ruthless, his tongue delving into every corner of my hungry mouth, and I return it with equal fervor. In seconds he’s inside of me, his mouth latched to my neck as he furiously fucks me against the heated tiles until I go limp in his arms just before he jerks his hips and stills, emptying inside of me. “Putain. Putain. You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, just before he draws my lips into a dizzying kiss. I drag my nails down his back and through his hair when he jerks away from my touch. It’s then I see that his hair is soaked, and it’s not from the shower spray. A drop of crimson hits his shoulder and I gasp when I realize he’s bleeding.
“What in the hell? You’re hurt!”
I raise on my toes to inspect the wound and he gently pushes me away.
“I’m all right.”
“You’re bleeding. Tobias, this looks bad.”
He reverses us, the water hitting his scalp and coming out tinged with pink between our feet at the drain. He runs his hand through his hair as I struggle with him to get a closer look.
“What happened?” I battle with him until finally he relents, sitting on the shower bench so I can inspect him. The inch-long gash at his crown could use a stitch or three.
“You need stitches.”
“It will heal.”
Once he’s rinsed off, he follows me out of the shower and stumbles before bracing himself on the counter.
His eyes close as he pales.
“You’ve lost too much blood.”
He chews his lip with his teeth. “I’m good.”
