Page 71

On Saturday night, before the nightmare that propelled me to seek out self-flagellation, I shut myself down at 60 percent. I have a while to go before the critical mass hits. Besides, I have a feeling she knows a little of what to expect from me. She’s beautiful and intelligent. She’s also intuitive.

And she stood inside the door of my home cinema for six minutes and forty-four seconds.

She’s seen Toby. She’s seen me. I choose to find a little absolution in all of this.

A loud grunt from one of the foursome pulls her attention from her phone. She blinks, and although her face remains a shade paler than I prefer to see, she starts to turn her head.

I charge forward and fist my fingers through her hair before she gets the chance to satisfy her curiosity.

“You owe me a text,” I growl in her ear, even as I close my eyes and greedily inhale the silky warmth of her skin.

She gives a tinyumpand tries to suppress a shudder. “You owe me the courtesy of taking no for an answer.” Her voice holds an echo of whatever brought that look to her face.

Something lurches in my chest.

I push it away in favor of the thing that I need the most. Me, between her legs, pounding to forget. “How about an apology for the way I left things on Saturday?”

Her head swivels toward me, but I’m too busy breathing her in to look in her eyes.

After a few seconds, she clears her throat. “Go on.” Her voice quivers slightly.

“I’m sorry for leaving things the way I did. You didn’t deserve that. I apologize unreservedly,” I whisper against her ear while nuzzling her neck.

This time, her shudders reverberate through her body. “Wow. Either you really want something, or civilization has finally worn you down.” Her voice is stronger, sharper. She’s fully in control of whatever emotions waylaid her.

Enough to meet me on a level playing field.

I raise my head and stare at her, give her another glimpse of my intentions. She returns my gaze for a handful of seconds before she swallows. “No, I guess I should take back the second part?”

I glance at her dark-screened phone. “You owe me a text,” I say again.

“I would only be repeating myself.”

“Do you accept my apology?”

Her gaze shifts from mine, and I can tell she wants to hold on to her anger. Finally, she sighs. “Yes.”

“Then come to my suite and open your gift.”

“Said the spider to the fly,” she mutters under her breath. “I really don’t need a parting gift, Mason. And I’m not one of those women who craves a token of her presence in a man’s bed.”

“That wasn’t what it was. I made your gift before you agreed to fuck me. It’s specially designed for you. If you refuse it, I’ll have to destroy it.”

Her eyes rise to meet mine. “Crap, now you’ve got me all intrigued,” she says.

“Enough to leave this fuck-fest and come take a look?”

Her head starts to turn, and I tighten my fist.

“Your answer doesn’t require a visual inspection of said fuck-fest.”

“It’s past midnight. I really should get to bed.” She licks her lips and I suppress a groan.

“You should. After you make a detour via my suite.”

She glances at her phone, and her nostrils quiver slightly before she inhales. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Irrational anger rattles through me. “You can’t? Why not?”