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“Yeah, maybe don’t do that again,” Dante deadpans, startling a laugh out of me.
I immediately narrow my eyes, which has him backing off and putting his hands up to ward me off.
I look away. I don’t want Dante to make me laugh right now, and I definitely don’t want to feel anything about what Maddoc may or may not think about me. This new partnership idea already has me feeling way too off balance, and with as messed up as everything is between us right now, I don’t have it in me to joke around with him.
He’s still not on my side. Not my friend. Definitely not my anything else.
And neither is Maddoc.
Dante’s looking at me with an expression I don’t want to decipher. But just when I’m about to snap at him to break the tension, he smiles. “Good night, princess.”
He turns and starts walking away.
“What?” I blurt, thrown off balance all over again. “You’re leaving?”
“Gonna miss me?” he asks, turning back to me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Because if you’re inviting me to come in…”
My body instantly reacts to that, and I force myself to scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. “Since when do Iinviteany of you into my room? I’m the prisoner here, remember?”
“Not a prisoner,” Dante says mildly. “You’re our partner now… remember?”
“So you’re actually just walking away? You’re going to leave me unrestrained in my room all night and trust me not to make another break for it?”
I don’t know why the hell I’m pushing him when it would be smarter to keep my mouth closed and be thankful for it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Dante grins and saunters toward me, only stopping when he’s close enough that I have to tip my head back to keep glaring at him.
He trails a finger over my lips, sending sparks skittering over my skin, then wraps his hand around the back of my neck and leans in.
I’m prepared to knee him in the balls if he tries to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gently pushes my hair out of the way and dips his head down.
“Of course we don’t trust you, princess,” he whispers, his breath on the sensitive skin under my ear sending more of those aching, wanting sparks through me. “That’s why Logan put up cameras in there.”
And then he’s gone, and I stand in the hallway blinking as I process that.
Fuck.
Of course.
I feel stupid for ever thinking I could have actually escaped. Between them watching me in my room and Logan having seen me swipe that fucking piece of wire, I never had a chance. All that time I was lying silently, waiting until the house was quiet, was useless.
“Fucking assholes,” I mutter, stomping into my room and slamming the door closed after me. Not that it matters. They can watch me, come in uninvited, do whatever they want. They may say I’m not their prisoner, but I’m still one hundred percent at their mercy. Even here, in private—
“Shit,” I whisper, freezing in place as I realize there is no “in private” here.
Dante didn’t saywhenLogan put up the cameras, but I can only assume that everything I’ve ever done in this room has been watched. Every time I’ve changed my clothes, talked to myself, or even…
Touched myself.
I flush with embarrassment. The idea of Logan, Maddoc, or Dante having watched me get off without my permission bothers me way fucking more than it should. Especially since I’ve made my living being an object for men to stare at for years now.
This is nothing like when I’ve stripped on stage, though. Rubbing my pussy and playing with my tits to get a few more dollars from the shitbags who flock to places like the club I used to work at is just a show, even when it felt good.
But behind closed doors, it’s real. Uncensored. Raw.
Private.
I glare around the room, wondering where the hell these cameras are.
