The ride down was quick, and no one else got on. I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t know the exact time, but I knew it was very late, and the only people wandering around a hotel at this hour were those, like me, doing a walk of shame.
I stood as the elevator doors slid open—then immediately sat down again in shock when I saw Tyler standing right there.
“But—how did you?”
“Service elevator,” he said, then stepped into the car, blocking my exit.
“I need to get out. I need to—”
“Sloane.” That’s it. Just my name, but it was so firm and so vibrant and so full of apology that it sounded to me like a seal of honor.
I melted a little. “Please, Tyler. I’m tired.”
He nodded to the couch. “Then sit.”
I thought about arguing, but wasn’t sure I had the strength. I felt sapped. Exhausted. And I wasn’t even entirely certain I was firmly rooted on the planet any more.
I sat, and as soon as the doors closed behind Tyler, he casually hit the button for the ninth floor, then immediately hit the button to stop the car from moving.
Only then did he turn to look at me.
“You should know that I’m a man who takes what he wants,” he began, as I looked down at my fingernails. “I always have, and I always will. No regrets, and no exceptions. No exceptions, that is, but one.”
He had my attention, and I lifted my head to find him looking hard at me. “And what is that?”
“I will never take from a woman what isn’t freely given, no matter how tempting that woman may be.”
“Don’t try to pretty it up for me.” I kept my voice low and dangerous. “You told me flat out there were things that you wanted in your bed.” I met his eyes. “Things you were more than willing to take. And, Tyler, you did try to take them.”
“Yes,” he said simply. “And no.”
“I’m tired,” I said. “I’m not interested in games or in riddles.”
“Neither am I.” He moved toward me, then dropped to his knees so that we were almost eye to eye. “It wasn’t me you were afraid of, was it?” he asked gently. “You weren’t even seeing me.”
I looked away, not wanting him to see the truth in my eyes.
“I am so sorry,” he said, and I understood that he wasn’t apologizing for what had happened between us, but for what had happened to me all those years ago.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he said. “I thought at first that you—” He cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head. “I thought you were playing the game. A little fear mixed with sex can be an aphrodisiac, Sloane, especially with two people like us.”
I blinked up at him, confused. “Like us?”
“I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Not really. And yet I’ve touched you, so very intimately. You’ve gone further with me than with anyone, Sloane. We both know it.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“And I intended to take you further. There’s always fear at the precipice. Always terror before you fall off into the unknown.” He reached forward, cupped my face in both of his hands. “I thought that’s where you were, standing at the edge of something new and terrifying and thrilling—I thought that was where we were.” Gently, he used his thumb to brush away an errant tear. “I was wrong.”
He drew his hands away, then stood, moving slowly back to the corner of the car to stand by the doors.
I drew in a shuddering breath, realizing as I did that I missed the comfort of his hand upon my cheek.
“Tyler.”
“Wait.” He held up a hand. “Let me finish. I meant everything I said to you. And I won’t lie to you now. I do want to tie you down. I want the freedom to touch you. I want you completely open to me. I want to look at you, bound to my bed, and have complete power over you. I want you in a position where I could do anything to you. Pain. Pleasure. Even a little fear. But of the moment—of the unknown. Not of me. And certainly not of a ghost from your past.”