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This is my plan B.
“This innocent act is growing old, Juliet,” I say, lounging back into the sofa as I turn to look at her. “We both know you don’t have an innocent bone in that hot little body of yours.” I actually feel nauseous as the lie passes my lips, but I press on, knowing what I’ll gain once this is done.
My words have the exact effect I was hoping for. “Not anymore. I’m fat. This baby weight is turning me into a whale.” She pouts, and the look is not at all attractive.
But I fake horror. “Don’t be absurd. You still look good enough to”—I lick my upper lip—“eat. Speaking of…don’t make me repeat myself.” I try to keep my voice low and seductive, hoping my allure will work.
It does.
She slowly rises, nervously running her hands down her dress as she stands before me. This is the first time I’ve ever seen Juliet appear bashful and not jump at the opportunity to get nude. But that’s about to change.
“Strip.” I casually cross my ankle over my knee as I lean back to get comfortable.
Her trembling fingers reveal she’s tense, but she does as I command. Lifting the loose-fitting garment over her head, she drops it to the floor. It lands with a soft thud by her painted toes. Gathering my wits, I start my dance with the devil.
Raking my gaze up her body, I ensure I take my time. However, I’m not savoring the sight but encouraging myself to go on. Even though I know this is for the greater good, I still want to pluck my eyeballs out because I feel like I’m betraying Maddy by looking at someone who isn’t her.
When I arrive at the junction of her thighs, I press down the heavy memories of when that was my favorite place in the world. She shuffles under my watch when my gaze falls to her small belly. Seeing it in the flesh makes this all real, but I can’t stop, not now. Her fingers suddenly flutter over her stomach, drawing my attention to the fact she doesn’t like to be bare.
“See? I told you. I’m hideous. My body isn’t how you remember it. That’s why you likeher, isn’t it? She’s young and thin with perfect skin, not a bloated, blotchy pregnantbuffalolike me. I’m losing my looks. This was a bad idea.” Just as she bends down to pick up her dress, I jump up to stop her.
“Nonsense.” She looks up, watching me with uncertainty in her eyes. “You’re still incredibly beautiful, Juliet. Your body has just filled out, and that’s not a bad thing.” I approach her slowly, steadying my racing nerves. Pausing in front of her, I force myself to touch her voluntarily without vomiting.
Stroking her cheek, I smile. “Surely Dylan”—I try my best to keep smiling—“tells you that every day?”
This idea came to me thanks to Dylan’s transparent aversion toward Juliet. At least one good thing came from that day.
She leans into my touch. “No, he doesn’t. He rarely touches me now. He says he doesn’t want to hurt the baby, but I know he’s lying. I know it’s because I’m fat.”
Oh, you superficial, blind twit. He doesn’t want to touch you because he clearly wants to touch someone else.
That thought spurs me on.
“Well, you know what?” I thumb her pouty bottom lip. “That’s his loss. I think those curves accentuate all your good bits.” I deliberately drop my gaze to her enormous tits.
“You think?” she hesitantly asks, the hope clear in her tone.
Taking a deep breath, I lie through my teeth. “Yes, I do. You are so beautiful. A goddess. You always have been. I have been a fool to deny you.” Unable to look at her a second longer, I walk behind her. I can deal with her back better than I can her front. Standing inches away from her, I will my fingers to move and begin a slow descent over her shoulders anddown her arms. Her skin instantly prickles with the contact while my gut contracts at what I’m being driven to do.
“That feels good,” she hums, her words caked in pleasure.
I’m glad someone is having a good time. But I press on. “How does it make you feel?”
“Happy.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s nice to feel wanted.”
“And you feel unwanted?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you think that is?”
This is a dangerous game I’m playing, but it’s the only way I can win. By setting up the illusion that she’s won, she’ll inadvertently let her guard down, and just like Hunter said, I’ll be able to use my psychobabble bullshit to break her down.
Hunter’s advice has proven to be most valuable. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. I’m going to do something I’ve not yet done where Juliet is concerned. I’m going to use the head on my shoulders, rather than the head between my legs to dig my way out of the mess I’ve made. I’m going to break down the lioness and turn her into a helpless little kitten. I plan on pulling back the layers of who she really is—something I should have done the first moment I met her. And when I do…then, I’ll break her.
