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It’s hot. I can feel it. What I can’t feel is him. There was emotion in the air before, but now there’s a strange distance. And…a strange pride. I got what I wanted. I escaped my apartment, and I came here, and I’m not a virgin anymore.
He pulls out of me and I hiss at the sting. His absence hurts, too. As soon as he’s gone I scramble up from the floor and turn around to face him. Emerson’s on his knees, but there’s something wrong with his eyes. They’re shuttered. Suspicious.
“Please,” I say. My knees are jelly. I can’t stay upright much longer.
He stands up and puts his clothes back together. It’s a fascinating process. The zipper flashing. The cloth in his hands.I might fall over, I try to say. Getting fucked is a lot.
The last thing I feel is his arms going around me. Catching me before I hit the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Daphne
Iresurface fromsleep with a jolt. In the scramble to catch myself I find the edge of the bed. The sheets feel different. The thread count is way higher than what I have in my apartment.
Which bed is this? Leo’s house?
No. I don’t recognize the way the moonlight comes in through the windows. It’s at the wrong angle. And—I’m not dressed. Not in my clothes, anyway. I’m wearing an oversized t-shirt.
Oh my god.
I’m at Emerson’s house.
It’s late. I know it’s late. I can feel how very late it is. Or very early in the morning. My stomach turns over. A lamp is on, the light low on the bedside table.
I left the light on at my apartment.
I left the light on.
Guilt chokes me first, followed by fear. I left the light on, and the security team will check on me. They’ll discover I’m not in my apartment.
No, it’s worse than that. They’ll have done it already. Leo’s new orders mean that when something is out of the ordinary, they have to follow up on it. I almost never leave my lights on all night. One of the bodyguards will have noticed. One of them will have crossed the street and knocked on my door to check. Or they’d notice when I don’t leave in the morning.
They already came to check. It’s a done deal.
Certainty makes my blood feel cold. I can picture the suited men walking around my apartment with purposeful strides. I can picture them placing the first call.
Leo always answers. He always does. Even in the middle of the night.
The scene flashes into my mind. Leo, sitting at the edge of his bed, rubbing a hand over his face while one of those bodyguards tells him that I’m missing. That I am unaccounted for. I know what his eyes will look like as he understands the news. I know how angry they’ll look. How haunted.
Oh, shit. What have I done? I push my hair back from my face in frantic strokes and fumble for my phone on the nightstand. Whatever’s happening, I can call it off. I will apologize as much as I have to. I’ll go over to his house and talk to him about this. I’ll promise never to scare him like this again. I promise, I promise. I’m half awake but the call—it can’t wait. It has to happen right now.
My phone’s not on the nightstand. There’s a small lamp there. It’s the one casting the golden glow over this room. It’s one of those fancy lamps, the one with settings to adjust it. It’s on its lowest setting. Emerson didn’t want me to wake up in the dark. He also didn’t want me to get paint all over his sheets. My hands are faintly blue, but he must have washed them for me. Which feels…
I don’t know how it feels.
My phone is the main problem.
I search the covers. Throw them back and push my hands down to the bottom of the bed. Did I kick it down there somehow? I don’t usually fall asleep with the phone in the bed, but then I don’t remember falling asleep.
I remember Emerson’s strong arms and being more tired than I’ve ever been in all my life.
Probably from the sex.
It’s very tender between my thighs. Part of me melts again, which is awful. I shouldn’t be thinking of sex at a time like this, when I have terrified at least one member of my family and probably more. Eva’s going to be worried, too. Maybe even angry. I didn’t tell her what was going on with Emerson.
Where is the damn phone?
