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“Seems that the drunk you is more honest than the sober you.”
“Are you going to make me participate in sexual activities with you?”
“Makeyou?” he repeats, slight amusement shining in his eyes. “Do you remember what I said last night?”
I rack my brain over what he might have mentioned, and my cheeks burn further with every recollection of my lustful acts. I can’t believe I asked him if he’d fuck me.
God, I nearly begged him for it.
Where was my survival perimeter? If he’d complied, would I have let him screw me?
I shoo the answer to that question away. I really don’t want to know what I would’ve done in that situation.
“Do you remember?” he insists with that calm that I don’t believe for a second. This man is able to wreck lives without blinking an eye.
I nod.
“Use your words, Lia.”
“I remember,” I murmur.
“What did I say?”
“You’re not a rapist.”
“Correct. What else did I say?”
I stare at him, confused.
“After that, what did I say? I know you remember.”
“That you’d deal with me in the morning.” The words leave my mouth in a whisper.
“It’s morning.” He grabs the blanket and I tighten my hold around it. If I let it go, if I fall into his carefully spun web, I’ll never find a way out.
I can smell the scent of his luring, the way he’s carefully bringing me into the midst of his lethal world. First, I saw him kill someone in cold blood, then he allowed me to leave, but even that was calculated. It was a ploy to have me think about him all week long, looking under my bed and out my windows. Locking my doors and checking them several times after. Staring through my damn rear-view mirror, searching for his shadow.
Appearing during a private rehearsal was his way of telling me that he can get anywhere he wants. Find me anywhere I go.
The dinner was also a calculated move to have me loosen up so he could get closer without scaring me shitless. To show me that he’s a normal man who can have dinners and dates.
But there’s nothing normal about him. I never thought he was normal—and I never will. This man is the type who will, without any hesitation, go after what he wants.
And right now, that’s me.
My chin trembles as I keep my solid hold on the blanket. I’m not a fool, I know he could yank it away at any second. Not only is he twice my size, he’s also a killer, someone who’s used to brute force while I’m accustomed to elegance and finesse.
“Did you do all that to fuck me?” I murmur.
“All that?”
“Giving me time. The dinner, the kiss. Not touching me when I was drunk?”
“The dinner was, as I said, to get to know you. The kiss was because I wanted to taste your lips. I didn’t touch you when you were drunk, because I need you present when I’m fucking you. As for your first question, I gave you time to let you cope with the fact that I’m coming for you.”
“I thought you let me go.”
“You’re smart enough to not believe that. During the entire week, you were jumpy, waiting, biding your time until I came back into your life again.”
