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“One of them.”
She gawked at the art on the walls and stepped farther into the skyrise, glancing around and giggling nervously as she pulled off her coat. “I don’t want to break anything,” she murmured. “It looks so expensive.”
I took her coat and laid it on the couch for now, then guided her into the hallway and into the master bedroom to begin running the water. She slowly stripped off her clothes, wincing when she bent at the hip to peel off her skirt.
With bubbles in the bath and a wick candle burning on the counter, Sierra lay in my bath, naked. “Why’d you open Radiant?” she asked, leaning over the side, her arms glistening with water and bubbles in the candlelight.
She rested her head on her right shoulder and smiled softly. Though I could see some strain etched into her expression.
“Because I enjoy the atmosphere.”
While her cheeks flushed, she urged, “But why?”
“Why?” I chuckled tensely. “Usually, that’s enough of an answer.”
“Not for me.”
“Do you want an honest answer?”
She nodded.
“I like control, and I want to care for someone,” I said, drawing my fingertips across the water. And I had wanted someone to care about me too, to trust me enough to lead them, to be able to lean on me whenever they needed.
“Is there a reason?” she asked.
A reason? For me being this way?
I tensed and gulped, unfamiliar nerves building inside my stomach. Usually, with women, I was in complete control. They never asked questions about my life, about my desires, wants, and needs. But now, I was lost for fucking words.
“You should ask this many questions during class, Sierra,” I murmured.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, sinking down in the bubbles with her cheeks tinting red. “I’m in grad school for psychology, and I like to understand people’s motives. I’ve never been around anyone like you before. I find you interesting.” She giggled softly. “In a good way.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I peered at her. “You do that a lot.”
In a bath full of bubbles, she stared at the blank wall and frowned, her gaze distant.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
“Do you think I’m easy?”
“Because of tonight? No, of course not.”
“Not because of tonight,” she whispered, sinking lower in the tub.
“Why are you asking? Where did this come from?”
She opened her mouth, then blew out a breath, bubbles forming where her mouth met the water. She closed her eyes and lolled her head against the back of the tub, sighing. “I don’t know. Sorry I brought it—”
“Who told you that you were easy?” I growled.
Because this hadn’t come out of nowhere. If this wasn’t talking about tonight, then someone had put this thought—those words—into her head. And whoever the fuck it was, I would rip them a new one.
“Sierra,” I said sternly, “who told you that you were easy? Someone at the club?”
“No,” she whispered. “I ran into my ex today before class.”
10
