“He’s going to kill you. Jesus, you’re going to kill him.”
He laughed. “Chaos, you have quite the imagination. Firstly, Deck won’t kill me and secondly, I won’t kill him—yet. Besides, I like you, Chaos. I’m thinking if I killed him, you’d probably try and kill me. And I really don’t want to have to kill you.”
Then the phone went dead.
I sat outside the elevator for a long time. Every time I heard it ding on other floors, I’d look up, my heart racing. Hoping he was back, praying he didn’t do anything reckless. But Deck was never reckless—until I saw him tonight. His face, it was like I’d stabbed him in the stomach with a dull blade and then slowly turned it. His shock. His disbelief.
In one sentence, I blew up everything he thought about me. I told him another man cut me and I’d asked him to do it. God, the look on his face. Surprise and rage burned like an erupted volcano in his eyes. I deserved his hate. His disgust. Fuck, I was disgusted with myself.
It was just after midnight when the elevator doors opened and Deck stepped out. I was half-asleep, my neck sore from tilting back against the wall. I jerked upright and then scrambled to my feet.
“Deck.” He looked perfectly contained: clothes neat and tidy, face tight but that was usual. He had a Band-Aid on his arm but the rest of him … no blood. He had all his limbs and he was standing.
I felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in my stomach at the sight of him. No matter what shit had gone down between us, whenever I set my eyes on him … it was the same feeling.
The only real man worth having and yet … it was his eyes which stabbed each butterfly and had them falling dead in the pit of my stomach. Then his gaze flicked over me dismissively like I was an ornament he didn’t like in his foyer.
He strode past and opened his door, leaving it ajar. That was a good sign; at least he wasn’t locking me out. I followed him in then clicked the door shut behind me and leaned against it.
He ignored me for several minutes as he helped himself to a bottle of water from the fridge, chugged it back then left the empty container on the counter. That was unlike Deck; he always kept order. His home was spotless and he put everything in its place.
He walked over to the window and stood quiet and still, staring out at the darkened sky. I waited, knowing he might kick me out any second, never wanting to see me again. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about it, wondering how I could make this all go away. But whatever he decided, I deserved it. I deserved his hate. I just had to make sure he stayed safe.
His voice was rough and hard as he said, “Take off your shirt, Georgie.”
“What?” What the hell? A million thoughts raced through my brain as I tried to think of where he was going with this. Did he want to see the cuts? See what Kai had done?
He slowly turned and looked at me. “Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
My eyes felt like they’d been zapped as they widened with surprise. There was that distinct wave of heated bliss charging through me like soldiers attacking their enemy with torches.
He walked toward me. I considered running, but I’d do anything Deck wanted right now. I was turned on and terrified at the same time. My hand on the doorknob twisted.
He kept coming until he was inches away and when he took a breath, I could feel his shirt touch mine. He leaned into me, hands resting on the door above my head, trapping me. “Do you ever listen to instructions?”
I trembled because I was thinking about him kissing me when I should have been thinking about what he was doing.
“I’m going to fuck you, Georgie.” My breath hitched and an intense ache grabbed me and held so tight I shifted uneasily. The drumming of my heart was so violent I thought it might spike out the top of my head.
“I … I don’t understand.” Why was he doing this? Ten years I’d wanted to sleep with him. Ten years and suddenly after I told him bad shit … horrible shit … shit I wasn’t even finished telling him … he wanted to break his word to my brother and sleep with me?
He smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was kind of cruel and all- knowing with lips pursed together and slightly pulled up in the corners. So not Deck. “You don’t understand how to fuck? Or you don’t understand what I said?”
“I don’t understand why you want to.”
“Oh, you will. You’ll understand so fuckin’ clearly it will make your head spin.”
Oh, shit, his voice was low and husky and reminded me of the muffled roar of a souped-up shiny black Mustang. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed across my pelvis and I wanted to rip them off and feel the heated bliss of his skin against mine.
“Never known you to be speechless.” He hadn’t touched me yet—well, if I didn’t count his eyes driving into me. “You want this, Georgie? Because I had the impression you did. This is me.” He leaned in closer, so his lips were next to my ear. “Do what I say and take off your fuckin’ shirt or walk out that door and never come back.”
Jesus. I was so stunned I stood there even when he pushed off the door and stepped away. I knew Deck. He didn’t make idle threats, and I suspected he’d even open the door for me if I refused him.
There wasn’t a chance I’d ever do that.
I grabbed the edges of my shirt, pulled it over my head and let it slip from my fingers to the floor. I heard his intake of breath as he looked at me. His expression remained the same, unwavering and hard, and it made my legs quiver like rubber bands. I leaned back onto the door for support and it pushed my chest out which sparked a smoldering flame in his eyes.