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His nostrils flare. “Samira. Stop. Stop it.”
I shake my head. “You don’t get to threaten me in my house.” I force myself to remain firm, and to my shock, my voice doesn’t shake how my hand does as I point the gun at him. “Let me make myself clear.”
I step forward while he watches me. He still hasn’t moved, hasn’t tied himself up. I press the gun against the bottom of his chin. “This is my home. No man will ever come in here and hurt us. Not a husband, and certainly not a man I fucked a few times. I told you what I wanted, Declan. A white picket fence and three kids is not what I asked of you.”
He licks his lips, and I catch the instant need twinkling in his pretty blue eyes. Despite the gun pressed to him, he wants to fuck me.
“Take off your pants,” I demand.
And like the good little boy he is, he listens.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Declan
Hereyesarewildas she stares down at me. I swallow, my heart in my throat while she presses the cool metal of my own fucking gun under my chin. Her head cocks to the side while she regards me, pouty lips in a frown. They’re nude today, not the pink they normally are. In fact, she isn’t wearing any makeup at all.
Brown eyes that usually sparkle are dull, a forced grin that makes her look like she hasn’t slept in days. She’s . . .unhinged. A new level of manic haven’t seen before. And I’m a sick fuck for having a hard-on. But God damn, she is fucking sexy, and I will listen to whatever she tells me to do because I’m just as certifiably insane as she is. Maybe even more.
“Have you ever pulled the trigger on a gun before, Samira?” I ask to bring her back to reality.
She doesn’t answer. Just bends down to tape my ankles to the legs of the chair. I don’t fight her, wanting to see how this plays out. I’m naked from the waist down, every inch of my body fighting the urge to take control of this situation. When she’s finished my legs, she tests each one, giving it a firm tug. Satisfied, she stands again and gets to work on my wrists.
I let her do it because something is wrong. Something deep inside tells me she needs my compliance right now, and I’ll give it to her. Besides, breaking from duct tape is simple, and a rookie mistake as far as restraints go.
I wet my lips, taking in that unique scent that is just so perfectly her. Lavender, fresh soap, sweetness like a sugar cookie. “You gonna feed me, Sammy?” I ask as she tests the work on my hands. “Gonna be hard to taste test with my hands all tied up.”
The whole reason I showed up was for the cake. She’d asked to come by the penthouse later tonight, but I wanted to see her. So instead of responding, I just showed up. Now I see why she wanted to come to me.
She doesn’t want her husband to find out about what she’s been doing. A heaviness presses on my chest when I think about him. Does he know about me? He has to, right? How did she explain the weekend away with me? What did she tell him the other night when we met at the bar?
I’m not even jealous. I know what I have with her is special. But the lies she’s been telling? That doesn’t settle well with me at all.
“Talk to me, Samira. Fucking hell. What’s going on?” I tug at the tape wrapped around my wrists.
“What’s going on?” She scoffs, her head shaking, and then she begins to pace. “You broke into my home, Declan. Pinned me to the counter, and thought, what? That you’d have your way with me?”
She steps forward, the gun presses to my chest, and she squats so we’re eye level. “No. I’m not doing this again. This ismyhome.Mine.” Her teeth grind. “My children deserve to be safe.”
I nod even though I’m not following exactly what’s happening, but I know I need to get her calm. “Youdeserve to be safe.”
A tear falls down her face. “I do,” she whispers.
My heart cracks for her. She’s hurting and feels alone. “Let me go so I can hold you.”
“I wish I were braver.” She lets out a soft exhale. “I should have been braver.”
“You are brave.”
“No,” she grits out, her entire body shaking. “I was a coward, and he died because of it.”
“Who?”
My breathing picks up when she paces again. The gun is no longer pressed against me. Instead, she holds it to her chin while she walks back and forth, back and forth.
“Who died?” I ask again.Come on, point it back at me. Don’t aim it at you.
My line of sight never leaves her while she continues to mutter under her breath. She’s at the brink of madness, and I’m the dumbass who allowed her to tie me up instead of comforting her. I know what it's like to feel helpless.
