Page 124

He moves to a side cart and pours an amber-colored liquid into a small, stout glass. He passes it to me.
I hesitate.
“It’ll relax you.”
Is he going to get me drunk? Is he planning to fuck my unconscious body? I take a small sip and make a face. He just chuckles and motions for me to hand it back to him. I do, and he goes to sit in a leather wingback chair beside the fireplace. The flickering flames cast him in sinister shadows.
His gaze drags over me then back finally to my eyes. A slow wolfish smile spreads over his face.
“Take off the robe.”
My skin flushes under his intensity, and my mind goes back to the clipped orders he texted the night I foolishly let him watch me.
“Aidan, I…”
“Take. It. Off.” His intense stare is steady on me as he takes a sip of the amber liquid. Scotch? Whiskey? Bourbon? Are those all whiskey? I don’t know “guy drinks”. I can make a Cosmopolitan, a Mai Tai, a Pina Colada, a White Russian, Sex on the Beach even, but the difference in these too-strong amber liquids poured straight from the decanter elude me.
He arches a brow, waiting for my compliance. Has he never understood the word No?
“And if I don’t?” I challenge.
“I’ll turn you over my knee for being a bad girl.”
I’m not sure if he’s being serious, but Aidan has never struck me as a comedian. But would he really do that?
I untie the silk and let the robe fall to the floor. I wish I had more experience… any experience. I’m sure that if I knew my way around a dick, I wouldn’t be so timid right now. I’m sure I’d know how to make him work for this instead of just handing over my compliance without a fight.
If I had more experience, I’d know how to talk to him, how to seduce, how to hold back. You’d think you’d learn that in cheerleading or in the sorority house. But stereotypes aren’t always true. I made a good show of being worldly, making up stories to pretend experience I didn’t really have, but I was never serious with anybody, and I wasn’t about to lose my virginity to someone I didn’t even care about. What a waste, since I’m about to lose it to someone I’ve hated my whole life.
“Aidan, why are you doing this? You could clearly get anyone you want. You don’t have to resort to… this. You don’t want someone who doesn’t want to be with you.”
His jaw clenches, but he otherwise shows no emotion about this.
“You want me,” he says.
“I hate you. I’m not some thing you can own.”
“We’ll see.” He gestures with his finger for me to slowly turn so he can view me from all angles.
I don’t know what else to do, so I follow his instruction. This is all so surreal. I keep waiting to wake up. I keep hoping that everything from the moment the government took all our stuff to now is just a nightmare, and it’s all going to snap back to normality soon.
I’ll wake up back in my room with all my things still there. My car will be in the driveway. I’ll go on another stupid date with another stupid boy pretending to be a man. And everything will feel safe and normal again
Aidan tosses back the rest of his drink, stands, and puts the glass on the cart. He prowls closer to me, and I can’t help but take a few steps back.
I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t think I can just let him… I wonder if it would be different if I didn’t know who he was. If he was just some strange mystery, could he charm me? Win me over? Would my attraction overwhelm my understanding of what was really going on?
Goosebumps prickle over my skin as he strokes the side of my throat. The way he touches me... like he has every right. It’s the same way he touched me in the car that first night, and I’m starting to think this might be his signature move. In another set of circumstances, I’d give it a five-star review: “Would ride this ride again.”
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip then replaces it with his mouth. I’m too scared of what’s about to happen to fully give myself over to his kiss. I can’t even relax under his touch the way I did in the church with hundreds of witnesses. I can’t relax when we’re alone, when there are armed guards outside this door, when no one would come to save me if he decided to really hurt me.
He pulls back and turns me away from him. I feel the tug on the silk bow tied behind my neck. It’s the only thing holding everything up. When he unties it, that’s it. I’ll be naked, trapped with my stalker.
“This is weird,” I say.
He lets go of the silk, and I can feel the stillness in the room. I’m not sure if he’s even breathing.
He spins me around, his face a mask of fury. “What did you say to me?”