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I hear him take a few deep, steadying breaths to calm down before he speaks again. “I hope you know as soon as this pony show is over, I am quitting, and you will give me a glowing recommendation.”
“I don’t know…I may never want this pony show to be over. Look at how much fun we are having.” I finally turn my head hisway with a smirk on my face while his bears nothing more than deep, deep hatred.
“Henry, do you mind sharing how much you make as a driver? I am considering a career change,” he asks my driver, who chuckles, and I scoff.
“Pussy.”
“What did you just say?”
“That you are a pussy who can’t handle me. What a shame, I really thought you were different.” In a flash, I feel that strong, dexterous hand grip my right thigh with such strength and power my whole body trembles with a delicious and slightly terrifying shiver.
I don’t do well with touch. I definitely don’t do well with aggression, but something about it being at his hands makes me not only be okay with it, but crave the feeling of him all over me.
And then he leans in closer, and I gasp as I stare into the depth of his brown eyes. The eyes that have seen life. His scent penetrates my lungs while his hand hikes up a millimeter, and I gasp again, like a woman drowning in saffron and leather. Feeling his every emotion through that touch. Feeling his anger and, frustration and helplessness because we both know he is stuck with me until I am done with my toy.
But there is more. He might’ve acted out of anger just now, but as soon as his skin touched my body…there was more. So much more with a side dish of fear.
The side dish that we will share.
Because fear is exactly what I am feeling now as well.
“You have no idea what I am capable of. None, Kira.” His hand tightens a bit more on my thigh until I know he will leave his mark on my creamy skin, and then he is gone as fast as he came in, retreating to his side of the car and pulling up a phone for yet another call.
The knowledge of a bruise on my body should have sent me spiraling down memory lane. It should have been my undoing right here and now, but all I feel is emptiness because he is no longer in my approximation. His hand is no longer on me, and I want to rip that non-existent heart all over again for allowing him to get under my skin this easily.
For allowing myself to get drawn to him in a way, I haven’t been to anyone before because I know better.
Or maybe because I know nothing at all.
And maybe he’s right about me knowing nothing about him. And now I am not so sure that I want to anymore…because I have already consumed my part of that side dish. I am full of that fear. Fear that this fake boyfriend of mine might be my undoing.
Chapter twelve
Vassar
Song: Austin Giorgio – Lips of a Witch
“Hey, Soph, sorry I’m waking you up, but I won’t be coming home tonight.” I’m finally able to reach my sister just as we pull up to what I assume is Kira’s building. One of those fancy ones in Manhattan with a gazillion floors and zero personality.
“What? Why? Did something happen?” My sister’s voice is full of sleep and worry.
“No, no, everything is okay. Just extra work.” I didn’t tell her about my new “assignment” before, but I fear I might have to. But not now. I bring my hand to my face to rub some of this stress off my face, and I freeze as soon as I touch myself with it.
It’s the same hand I used on Kira mere minutes ago, and it is laced with her dangerous scent. The allure of rosemary and freshness of grapefruit and a little bit of just her. Just her stubbornness, fierceness, and assholeness. But most of all, her beauty. It is almost hilarious how much her scent fits its owner.
And drives me crazy.
I shouldn’t have grabbed her like that. I shouldn’t have cracked under her words, but it was as if she knew exactly whatto say to turn me inside out. Knew where that button for self-destruction lived.
Maybe I really am a pussy. Maybe all these women in my life know what they are talking about, and I am the only blind one in this scenario. But my sister’s voice pulls me out of the hole I am currently trying to run down.
“Do you want me to take Vee to school tomorrow morning?”
“No, I will be there for that.” I must be there for my daughter. No matter what. I can’t leave her like her mother did.
“Okay, well, goodnight then,” Sophie says with a deep yawn, and I smile, imagining my sister being half-asleep by the time I press the end button. She wears herself out too much every day.
Hanging up, my eyes catch the narrowed green ones pointed at my phone. And I would very much like to know what got her pissed this time, but I don’t have it in me to get into it right now.
