Betrayal (Infidelity Book 1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,45

mother, Jane had explained the pump to me. So I knew the hum wasn’t really a monster.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? That would’ve saved me a lot of sleepless nights.”

I softly laughed. “Because you never told me you were afraid.”

Bryce stopped walking a few feet from the shoreline. “I can still hear it. Can you?”

Camouflaged behind the crickets and occasional croaks of a toad, was a faint hum vibrating through the ground more than the air. “I can.”

Bryce reached for my hands and as I tried to pull them away, he said, “Alex, give me a second, please.”

Swallowing, I nodded.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“I-I’m not…”

“You are. More than you know. It was bad—the police, the station, the holding cell. I can’t go back. I can’t. I’m telling you what I’ve never told anyone. I was scared, more scared than I was of Nessie.”

I clenched my teeth. “I’m sorry, but I’m not helping you or anyone else cover up a crime.”

“Then you’re going to make a lousy lawyer.”

I knew he was kidding, but I was tired of people telling me what to do with my future, what to become, and how well I’d do. I pulled my hands away. “I will make a great attorney, because I’ll stand up for what’s right.”

“There are two sides to every argument.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I didn’t.” He ran his hand through his blond waves. “We had sex. She wanted more than a few dates and sex. I didn’t. She had some grand illusion about marriage. When I told her we were done, she promised she would get back at me. She said I’d led her on.”

“Bryce, Alton said there were bruises.”

He shook his head. “She didn’t have bruises the last time I saw her. I swear.”

I paced a few steps and turned back toward him. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You know me. I’m the guy who was afraid of Nessie. Please consider transferring to Savannah Law.”

“What?”

“New York is far away. Not as far as California, but still far. If you’d transfer to Savannah Law, we could…” His voice trailed away.

“We could what?” I asked, with more attitude than I intended.

“Just see where the future leads.”

The caterers were gone by the time we made our way back up to the manor and lights were off in many of the rooms. It wasn’t until after Bryce was gone and I headed up to my room that I heard the voices—his voice. The tenuous calm that had settled over me at the lake’s edge disappeared. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and tried to drown out his shouting and her tears.

As I quietly shut and locked my bedroom door I realized that I was a child again, and at Montague Manor that’s what we do, we pretend not to hear and not to see. We live in the illusion hidden within the smoke and mirrors.

OUR DATE AT 333 Pacific was everything Nox promised and more… down to the sea breeze. Our covert scandalous behaviors had me twisted tighter than I’d ever been. Everything was erotic: the scent of his cologne, the thundering rumble of his voice, and the confident, assured touch of his skin against mine. Though part of me knew what we were doing—what I was allowing Nox to do to me—went against everything Alex stood for, I was virtually on the edge of explosion. Sometime during the evening, the tightening inside of me moved from pleasure to pain. I needed release and knew my only source was the man beside me. However, instead of offering relief for the smoldering fire, Nox simply continued to fan the flames.

The menacing gleam in his eyes was the spark. The way the navy swirled in the paleness as he leaned close and whispered in my ear turned butterflies into bats. At first his directives were simple, almost mundane: take a sip of your drink, tilt your head to your right, spread your legs, wider. Then I realized his plan. He was testing me step by step, to see if I would play his game.

I did.

I wanted to.

By the time our main course arrived my thighs were slick with my dedication to Nox’s entertainment, yet he’d barely touched me. My stuttered breathing and noticeable arousal was mostly accomplished with merely his words and velvety tone. On the few occasions he’d ventured to ease his skilled fingers higher and lightly brushed my folds, I squirmed involuntarily toward his touch. Instead of rewarding my effort, he’d calmly rebuke me, reminding