splits my temples open. Memories of last night slowly filter back in, like I’m watching myself through a snow globe.
My eyes widen.
I kissed him.
Well, he kissed me, but I kissed him back. Then we got into his car, and then…black.
I stare at myself under the duvet, and I’m mortified to find that I’m in only my leotard and its snaps are open, revealing my aching pussy. My clothes are scattered by the side of the bed.
Pulling the cover to my chin, I fight the heat in my cheeks as my gaze flits back to him.
Adrian. The devil who found his way into my apartment.
He remains calm—nonchalant, even—as if he didn’t just witness me in that state or watch me orgasm.
I pause, my heart thundering.
Wait.
He watched me orgasm? That was also a dream—it must’ve been. There’s no way in hell I orgasmed in front of him.
Right?
“You were here all along?” I ask cautiously, almost fearfully.
“Correct.”
“How did you get in?”
“You told me the code.”
Why can’t I remember that? And why the hell did I get drunk in the first place? I already know why—to loosen up, but was it worth this price?
“Did something else happen?”
He raises a brow. “Such as?”
“Like… Like…”
“Asking me to fuck you and touching yourself to orgasm when I didn’t?”
I can feel the color drain from my face, and I wish I could become one with the floor.
Adrian rises to his feet and my head snaps up when he stands beside me. “Now that you’re not drunk, I can oblige.”
“I didn’t mean it,” I blurt.
“Didn’t mean it?”
“Yes, those words were meaningless.”
“Do you often touch yourself and orgasm to meaningless words, Lia?” He takes my hand in his, the same one that was between my legs, and lifts it to his face.
Shame heats my cheeks when he inhales my scent deeply into his lungs. “Isn’t that the ultimate contradiction?”
I pull my hand from his, fast and rushed, as if I’m saving it from catching fire.
His arm falls to his side with infinite carelessness, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t leave. He remains there, watching, looming.
My feelings disperse all over the place; my heart is still buzzing, thundering, with nothing to anchor it in its ribcage.
“I don’t want this,” I mutter.
“Seems that the drunk you is more honest than the sober you.”
“Are you going to make me participate in sexual activities with you?”
“Make you?” he repeats, slight amusement shining in his eyes. “Do you remember what I said last night?”
I rack my brain over what he might have mentioned, and my cheeks burn further with every recollection of my lustful acts. I can’t believe I asked him if he’d fuck me.
God, I nearly begged him for it.
Where was my survival perimeter? If he’d complied, would I have let him screw me?
I shoo the answer to that question away. I really don’t want to know what I would’ve done in that situation.
“Do you remember?” he insists with that calm that I don’t believe for a second. This man is able to wreck lives without blinking an eye.
I nod.
“Use your words, Lia.”
“I remember,” I murmur.
“What did I say?”
“You’re not a rapist.”
“Correct. What else did I say?”
I stare at him, confused.
“After that, what did I say? I know you remember.”
“That you’d deal with me in the morning.” The words leave my mouth in a whisper.
“It’s morning.” He grabs the blanket and I tighten my hold around it. If I let it go, if I fall into his carefully spun web, I’ll never find a way out.
I can smell the scent of his luring, the way he’s carefully bringing me into the midst of his lethal world. First, I saw him kill someone in cold blood, then he allowed me to leave, but even that was calculated. It was a ploy to have me think about him all week long, looking under my bed and out my windows. Locking my doors and checking them several times after. Staring through my damn rear-view mirror, searching for his shadow.
Appearing during a private rehearsal was his way of telling me that he can get anywhere he wants. Find me anywhere I go.
The dinner was also a calculated move to have me loosen up so he could get closer without scaring me shitless. To show me that he’s a normal man who can have dinners and dates.
But there’s nothing normal about him. I never thought he was normal—and I never will. This man is the type who will, without any hesitation, go after what he wants.
And right now, that’s me.
My