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It seems tonight was not going to be a canned soup, Netflix-filled evening after all.
I squeal, and my feet jump up and down in excitement.
Kaleb sends me another text saying he’ll have Jayson and Tristan come pick me up and my heart nearly explodes in my chest from the anticipation.
I desperately wondered what the evening was about. Why did he need me there? Why would the dark wolf let me back into his lair after nearly having devoured me the first time he caught me lurking about? The place was a dark palace of sinners and it was obvious I stood out like an autumn leaf in that snowstorm. The only blotch of color on his mansion's blank canvas.
But the monster wanted me in his palace tonight. He wanted me there and he wanted to be able to recognize me. That much I could defer from the dress and mask he provided. The lingerie I could only speculate was a little added bonus for his arrogant benefit. The bastard probably thought with his twisted games he would get the chance to unwrap me. What he didn't know was that my willpower around him was like tissue. The material is so thin all it would take was a breath against my skin, and I’d be tearing open for him.
Safe to say it was best to keep that secret close to my chest.
That he made me weak.
For someone as powerful as Kaleb, it would be best if he didn't know how powerless I was around him. How much power he truly held over me.
But I will go tonight. If not for him then for me. For my escape.
For this night was my excuse to start over. To pretend everything was ok. And for that selfish reason alone I'd give my time to the one boy I told myself I hated more than life itself... if only to delay my heart from shattering more than it already has.
Chapter 20
Rose
Jayson and Tristan were late.
They were late and I was tired of waiting.
It seems all I ever did was freaking wait and I was tired of it. Kaleb may like to play these games but I wasn't a toy from the Target dollar section. I didn't bend that easily.
And yet here I was waiting for him anyway, with my hair curled up in long waves that dripped down my back like honey and that stupid dress clinging to my ever nonexistent curves. I was dressed up for him like a barbie doll on a silver platter who twirls on command. It was sickening and yet I found myself craving his potential reaction, wondering if the sight of me would crack something inside of him, the way he could crack my self-control completely with just a look.
Not to mention there was the matter of the lingerie. The little lacy straps had haunted my daydreams since the package had arrived. I pictured myself wearing it for him. Imagining his eyes roam over my legs, and hips, before settling on my breasts. Just the thought made me blush furiously and I could almost hear Kaleb's voice calling me Tinkerbell.
Losing the battle with my inner angels I had slipped the lacey bits on anyways. They were surprisingly comfortable and I relished the way the soft midnight lace caressed my skin and supported my boobs in a way that almost made it look like I had something to offer. I knew he sent it over to tease, but to tease me or him I wasn't quite sure. The dangerous part of me, the girl who liked flames, wanted to tease him with the idea of me until he burned. But the soft part of me, the broken half of my heart, wanted to pretend like I haven't received the sexy gift at all. It would be safer that way. More benign. But I was tired of being safe, and it would be a lie to pretend.
If only lying wasn't always the easier choice.
Impatient, I twirl around in my black strappy heels, aching to see if the very devil's guards had arrived yet. He really did like to taunt a girl with toys she couldn't play with didn't he? And both Tristan and Jayson were quite shiny and new, their bodies the perfect mold for play time. But unfortunately, they didn't make my skin burn, they didn't make my heart beat so fast it felt like I was going to have arrhythmia the next time my doctor pressed a stethoscope on my chest.
Pressing my eye through my peephole for the twentieth time in the past half hour, I grunt. It was nearly eight-thirty and there was still no sign of Tristan or Jayson.
Where were they?
The thought stubbornly crosses my mind and I find myself scuffing my heels on my apartment's concrete floor. Damn it all, I was two seconds away from giving up and turning on Netflix. I was never one for patience.
Knock, knock.
The light knock echoes through the space and I bite back a sigh of frustration.
“Finally,” I muttered before opening the door and stumbling in surprise.
“Damn princess you clean up nice.” A sharp whistle fills the air and I look down to find hands wrap around my waist, twirling me around in a three-sixty before settling me back on unsteady feet.
Stupid heels.
Seeming to notice my imbalance, Jayson keeps his hand on my lower back for a few seconds longer than necessary and I smile politely in his direction.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” It was no lie. The blonde boy looked even more radiant tonight. Dressed in a crisp blue suit, Jayson's blond hair stood out like strands of liquid gold, his hair gelled back in a way that caused his natural highlights to pop. He looked straight out of a Nicholas Sparks movie. His glittering blue eyes sharp enough to blind a married woman into leaving her husband just for a taste of his bronze skin. It was painfully obvious why women were drawn to the tanned surfer physique wrapped in a New York suit.
