Page 7

Showering alone gives me time to think. I don’t change my mind, but I do take a few moments to berate myself for the choice.

That was the best sex I’ll ever have. Past, present, future, it doesn’t matter. That was it. The peak, the top of the mountain. Not only is he sinfully hot, he’s also violently dangerous, insanely talented, and a giver on top of it all.

And I’m about to look him in the eyes and tell him I never want to do it again.

One day, some psychology guru will do a case study on me, I just know it.

But when it comes time to actually tell him, I falter — he’s relaxing on the couch looking sated and sweet, legs splayed and tattoos on display. How am I supposed to tell him?

Especially when he gives me his blinding, flirty smile.

“Sorry for the mess.”

But he isn’t sorry and quite frankly, neither am I.

“Mess might be an understatement, but hey. It was worth it.” I take a seat next to him, but not close enough to touch. “I’ll do just about anything once.”

“Anything, huh? Does that mean you daydreamed about how it’d feel for me to come down your throat?” He chuckles deeply and reaches out to grip my thigh with one hand, leaving it there like I’m his. “Or maybe in your ass?”

Fucking hell. My cheeks flush as I feel a rush of heat, but I don’t give in. Much. “I’ve thought about it. But Kill... this is a terrible idea. You know that, right? We shouldn’t... we can’t do this.”

Sighing, his fingers curl into my skin before he tugs his hand away altogether. “Alright. And why is it terrible?”

Treading carefully, I watch his face. “Because I am, and will remain, your prisoner until you decide how to get rid of me,” I say gently. “It’s not exactly straightforward.”

He’s frowning down at his lap now, his smile and relaxed demeanor gone as if they were never there at all. “Prisoner in a strong word. I thought we were cohabitating.”

“Can I leave?”

“No.”

“Then we’re not cohabitating,” I remind him. “You can call it whatever you want, but there’s still a pretty serious imbalance of power here. Not to mention we’ve known each other for a day. Let’s do a little foreshadowing here. Say we keep going for months. You fall in love with me, but I’m broken and don’t love you back. What do you do?”

That makes him look up at me again. “Broken? You really believe that?”

“Yeah, I do. I don’t see any way forward from where I’ve been. But that isn’t the point, Killian. What do you do in that situation?”

Shrugging, he slumps a little further in his seat and lays his head back. “You’re not going anywhere for longer than that so I’d probably believe I have time to change your mind. You said at least a year.”

“Fine. A year comes, same thing. I don’t love you and I’m ready to go. What do you do?”

His frown deepens. “I don’t know. And who’s to say I’m the one that falls in love?”

Because I can’t. I won’t.

“Okay. I love you and you don’t love me. Still, a year comes and I want to leave because you’ve broken my heart, kept me prisoner for a year, fucked me repeatedly and didn’t even have the decency to grow to love me. Do you trust me out there on my own in that condition? Do you trust me not to rat you out?”

“Why are you making this so complicated? No, I guess I can’t trust you, happy now?” He’s getting frustrated, and part of me thinks this is necessary. I have to see his anger, his darkness. “I get it, it was too much cum and you’re grossed out, but if you didn’t enjoy yourself just say so. You didn’t have to... whatever the fuck this is.” He waves a hand between us and stands. “I need a shower.”

“Of course you’d make it about you,” I mutter. “I’m so shocked.”

“So what’s it really about? Your inability to fall in love? Because I don’t believe that bullshit. If you’ve done it once, you can do it again. It’s really that simple, you just don’t want to. And that’s fine if you think you’re protecting your heart, but I promise you that you aren’t. You’re just making your heartbreak stay with you forever.”

“You’re right,” I snap. “It took three years for Ryan to admit what a jackass he was, and here you are admitting it on day one. How dare I try to protect my heart when you, the killer on the run keeping me prisoner, is so clearly deserving of it? You’re right. We should fuck daily, three or four times. When has sex ever made anything more complicated?”

My tone has him standing straighter like I slapped him, but I can tell he’s far from done. “Whatever, I’m an asshole then. Would you rather I pretend I’m Prince Charming to your face like Ryan did? And by the way, you’re an asshole too. I just happen to like it.” He takes three steps toward the bathroom before spinning back around. “This isn’t about fucking anymore, Josephine. Who says I want to fuck you again, anyway?”

My jaw goes slack, but it humbles me quickly. “If you didn’t want more, why argue with me in the first place? Why not just go along with it when I said we shouldn’t do it again?”

“Because I did want to,” he admits. “Funny how things can change so quickly, huh? Now I’ll protect my heart just like you seeing as I’m the only one that falls in love here.”

At least he finally gets it. “Perfect. Maybe as friends, one day you’ll trust me enough to let me go. That’s the only way this ends well for me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It is what it is, friend.”

The tone of his voice makes me nervous. It Isn’t cold, but it’s sarcastic enough to let me know I might’ve made a huge mistake here. But what’s right? Getting tangled up when the power imbalance is skewed this severely? Gambling with my life for a few orgasms? I shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place, I know that. But I did. I let his almost inhumanly handsome face distract me from who he is, what he is.

And now I may never be free.