Shame (Ruin #3)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  In fact, he reminded me of the professor, though the professor was such a stiff I doubt he even knew what a masquerade was, let alone owned a suit as nice as the one this guy was wearing.

  “So,” he prompted, his full lips curling into another devastating smile as his light eyes twinkled with amusement. “Tell me a secret.”

  I froze.

  I had nothing against secrets. But that had been a game Taylor and I had played… something intimate, something he’d used against me repeatedly in order to get me to do his bidding when he was angry or jealous.

  I shivered in response.

  “Or…” His smooth voice matched his captivating smile, and the mystery man changed tactics. “…just tell me a truth.”

  “This last week…” I swallowed, ignoring the painful reminder in my chest. “…I had to switch mailboxes seven times.”

  “Seven?” His eyes widened. “Not happy with your PO location? Hmm, I highly doubt that. The only reason a woman would go to all that trouble would be to hide from something or someone… tax evasion? No, too young.” His eyes scanned me. “Crazy ex–boyfriend, then? Or stalker?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he gave a slight shake of his head. His eyes examined me from head to toe. “Too polite to report a crazy stalker or ex-boyfriend. My guess is you’ve been trying to hide from the individual and hope it will go away with a simple address change.”

  “It will,” I defended. “Besides, ever since information was released into the public—”

  His eyes narrowed. “The public?”

  “Never mind.” I shook my head. The last thing I needed was to let him know who I really was. That always gave me unwanted attention. “So I’m in college.” Not the smoothest subject change I’d ever tried, but it worked. He seemed amused. His lips curved into a grin. Something was so familiar and ridiculously hot about that grin.

  “Twenty?”

  I gawked as his mouth nearly brushed mine with the ending of his answer. “Huh?”

  “Your age.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sophomore?”

  “Can you stop psychoanalyzing me now?” I said, breathless.

  He laughed heartily. His head fell back just slightly, giving me a view of his strong neck.

  Something was seriously wrong with me if I was lusting after the man’s neck.

  “Alright, so tell me about your week, let me guess your new professor is an absolute prick.”

  I joined in his laughter, recalling all the times that week that Professor Blake had picked on me in class. “Yeah, something like that. I think he hates me.”

  “Who could hate you?”

  “Ah, there’s that flattery again.”

  He dipped me, the motion stealing any control I’d deluded I’d had in his arms. He brought me back against his chest and said in a husky voice. “I prefer truth.”

  I fought to not roll my eyes. “Fine, and apparently it’s really easy. Apparently I offend him by breathing.”

  “The only reason a man would be offended by your breathing is because of the distraction it causes.”

  “Me living is a distraction?”

  “To me?” His eyes narrowed as he twirled me then pulled me back into his arms. “To the male species?” He lowered me into a dip, his face inches from mine as he whispered, “I imagine your presence is a distraction everywhere you go.”

  I swallowed convulsively as the music ended, and he brought me back to an upright position.

  A man tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, I wrapped my arms around myself while he engaged in conversation. I read no expression on his face. It was like he’d gone blank.

  When he turned back around, that dead-sexy smile was back, and I could have sworn my knees knocked together a bit.

  “Walk with me.”

  I nodded and grasped his gloved hand with mine.

  He smoothly led me through the crowds. We came to a stop once we reached the stage; he released my hand and jogged up.

  Uh, did Wes and Gabe know that this guy was going to make a speech?

  I looked behind me for the guys. The music stopped.

  When I glanced back up at the stage, Wes and Gabe were joining mystery man. They slapped him on the back and then pumped each others hands. Okay, who was this guy? Seriously?

  “Thank you all for coming,” Wes said into the microphone. “With your help tonight and the generous donations of W. Enterprises, we were able to raise over one million toward our goal of two million by the end of the year! Thank you so much!”

  Gabe clapped along with Wes. They stepped out of the way while my mystery man stood tall amongst the two guys, not dwarfing them but easily holding his own. He coughed into his fist then shoved both hands into his pockets; it looked practiced, as if he wanted to show an heir of vulnerability. His eyes flashed toward mine, giving me a dark possessive look, before addressing the crowd.

  “As CEO of W. Enterprises, I’m more than happy to thank all the donors, and on behalf of my father, we truly appreciate everyone’s continuing support toward bettering the healthcare in the greater Seattle area.”

  More applause.

  But the pieces weren’t falling into place. So he was a CEO of a company? That fit, I guess. He was dressed well, and he’d mentioned security, but what CEO had that type of security?

  The guys filed off the stage. Gabe purposely bumped into me and winked before wandering off, probably to find Saylor, and Wes stopped right in front of me.

  “So…” His grin was shameless. “Having fun with Charming, Miss Cinderella?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. “You mean that’s the guy—”

  “I think I deserve an ‘I’m sorry, Wes, for doubting your ability.’”

  I held up my hand. “Not happening.”

  “Of course, the great Wes Michels knows the prettiest girl in the room.” Mystery man walked up to us. He wrapped an arm around me, tugging me closer to his body. I liked it. I shouldn’t, but I did.

  “Funny, I don’t see my wife.” Wes winked. “And yes, Tristan, this is—”

  “No last names!” I blurted, sounding like a complete idiot.

  “We don’t want to break the rules.” Mystery man leaned down, his breath hot on my neck. “Do we?”

  Oh we do, we really, really do. “Nope.” My voice came out like a squeak. “Sorry, Wes, but no names until the unmasking at midnight!”

  Wes held up his hands and grinned. “That should be very, very interesting.” He covered his face with his hand and looked away. “Yeah, I’m going to go find my wife… and dance. You two…” He licked his lips. “You have fun until midnight, then.”

  “Until midnight.” I nodded, leaning further into the warmth of the solid body next to me. He smelled like expensive cologne — not overpowering, just inviting. So inviting I fought the urge to turn my head a bit and breathe him in.

  “So…” His low voice vibrated. “…shall we dance under the stars?”

  Laughing, I pulled away and stole a glance at his face. “Who are you?”

  “Nobody important.”

  I sighed.

  “And you? The most beautiful girl in the room… who are you?” His eyes took on another dark hue, captivating me, making me want to lean in, discover his secrets.

  “For tonight?” My body shook with desire. I wanted more. For the first time in a really long time, I wanted more, and I wanted it to be him. “Your dance partner.”

  He brought my hand to his lips. His light eyes brimmed with hunger as he placed a gentle kiss across my wrist. “And tomorrow? What am I tomorrow?”

  Was I shaking? “I guess we’ll see.”

  “So strategic in her answers. I love a woman who knows her mind.” He dropped my hand and led me toward the double doors. When he pushed them open, we were suddenly on a balcony looking at the Seattle skyline.

  “Beautiful.” I breathed. “And look, no rain!”

  “Pl
ease don’t tell me you’re one of those.” He laughed, leaning against the railing as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

  “What do you mean?” I turned toward him, my breathing labored at the sight. He looked so predatory. Even relaxed, he seemed ready to pounce.

  “One of those horrible people who spread rumors about Seattle having nothing but rain when the exact opposite is true.” His head tilted in amusement. His full lips pressed together as he glanced briefly at the skyline then back at me, revealing a sensual smile that took my breath away. It was scary the way a complete stranger could make me feel, the desire he evoked in me with one look.

  “It does rain a lot here.” I found my voice and took a tentative step toward him.

  The tip of his tongue slid through his mouth, grazing his top lip, almost like he was thinking about licking my lips, not his. “I’d like to call it mist.”

  “Fine, it mists a lot in Seattle.” My eyes couldn’t look away from his; like a trance, I kept watching his face, entertained by each movement he made.

  “Magical,” he whispered reverently. “The mist. No way would I be coming out and saying that about you after only knowing you for a mere hour… don’t you think? After all, I’m honest, but I don’t want to come on too strong by telling you that under the stars you look like an angel… a dark angel.”

  I tried to shrug, to appear unaffected by his words. “Hmm, isn’t darkness bad? Wouldn’t that mean I’m fallen?”

  He laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and gently tugging me the rest of the way toward him. His legs braced either side of mine as my dress puffed around him. Strong fingers grazed my jaw as he kissed me softly on the cheek and whispered, “I’m pretty sure those are the best kind.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Prove you love me,” I demanded one night when we were at a party.

  She gave me that stare, the one that said she was afraid but didn’t know how to fix it. “Tay…” She shook her head. “…you know I love you. What more do you want me to do?” She was on the verge of tears.

  I felt equal parts bad and good. Her reaction sated me. Her tears destroyed me. I needed to be numb again. It was the only way to keep the demons out, the only way to keep everyone out. The pain was too much. So I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of pills then tossed them into my mouth and whispered, “Fine, you just killed me then.” —The Journal of Taylor B.

  Tristan

  SHE WAS LIKE a drug. With each glance she gave me, I wanted to take more; with each word she shared, I leaned in. Something about her was dark. I wasn’t one to normally be attracted to that sort of thing. I was the golden child, after all. But it was fun — in that single stolen moment — being myself and wondering what if I didn’t have to worry about the journals, or Taylor, or Lisa? What if it was just me in this moment with this stunning woman?

  What would I do?

  I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against hers. A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “Are you trying to prepare me or ask permission?” she whispered, her voice beckoning me like a siren’s call.

  “Both.” My lips hovered near hers. “I figure it’s only fair.”

  “Fair?” She pulled back slightly. “How so?”

  “Ten thousand.” I angled my head and watched the pulse jump on her neck. “That’s how many nerve endings, on average, are in your lips. Consequently, when your body anticipates pleasure, the build-up is the best part. Imagine, those ten thousand nerves are swelling, allowing blood to surge through them in anticipation of… what?” I swept my tongue across her lower lip and whispered, “Of being touched. I ask permission, not because I’m being a gentleman. It’s actually the complete opposite. I ask permission so your brain anticipates the pleasure before I’ve ever even touched you.”

  I tasted her lower lip again and abruptly dipped my tongue into her mouth. Then just as quickly retreated. “The human body is an instrument. Know how to master it… and well…” I let my voice drop as I moved my hands slowly to her shoulders and tugged her body flush against mine. Our mouths met softly at first. I deepened the kiss, memorizing her taste, knowing I wouldn’t experience a kiss like this again in my lifetime. The way her scent, her soft moans destroyed my body, wrecked me from the deepest part of me, was nothing short of life-altering.

  And I’d like to think I’d kissed a lot of women.

  I’d studied the psychology of sexuality.

  I was an expert in pleasure.

  But she was schooling me, absolutely wreaking havoc on every logical thought as her soft whimper cascaded over me. Blood surged through my body as it tightened with awareness at her proximity.

  She pulled back, her lips swollen. “That was… not a good enough warning.”

  Laughing softly, I cupped the back of her head and gently drew it toward mine and kissed her again, angling my lips differently, searching her, consuming her, drawing pleasure from her lips as if it was my life goal to discover every single secret she owned.

  Her arms wrapped around my neck. She was shy; she didn’t push against me, didn’t wrap her legs around me or moan into my mouth like I was having sex with her rather than kissing her.

  My hands moved down her corset to her hips, and I lifted her into the air and walked her backward toward the brick wall. The whole time, our masks collided. In frustration, I ripped hers off, then mine. The shadows of moonlight hid our faces as I kissed her harder, losing myself in her.

  Her nails dug at the back of my neck as she jerked my head harder. Groaning, I let her fall to the ground as I placed my hands on the brick wall to keep myself from ripping the dress from her body.

  Shouting started from the ballroom.

  “Ten, nine…!”

  “Eight,” I whispered against her mouth. “Seven.”

  “Six.” She sighed, her breathing labored as her tongue found mine again. “Five.”

  “Four, three.” I pulled back and trailed kisses down her neck.

  “Two.”

  We broke apart, both breathing heavy. “One.”

  People burst out onto the balcony as the fireworks started, lighting up the sky. And our faces.

  And the only thing I could say as she gasped in horror was “Oh, shit.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The pain completely stopped that night. I remember falling to the ground. I was smiling like a damn fool, and she was sobbing. I kept whispering, “Your fault, your fault…” when really I knew I was the one who’d taken the pills. But I also knew if she ever left me? I was as good as dead anyway. I needed to keep her with me at all costs. Even if it meant hurting her. See? I really did have to protect her from me, but in the end, I didn’t really want that. I was too selfish to want that. —The Journal of Taylor B.

  Lisa

  I COVERED MY mouth with my hands and almost passed out on the spot. Mystery man was my professor; professor was my mystery man.

  The very same person.

  Mr. Blake.

  Or Mr. Freaking Blake.

  Holy crap. I needed professional help. The one guy I was able to kiss in over two years without wanting to puke, and it’s my professor? REALLY?

  The one who hates me. Oh no, I even told him my professor was a prick.

  Tristan’s eyes turned murderous as he whispered, “Oh shit,” then looked down at the ground, then back up at me.

  My mouth was still hanging open, and lucky me, my lips were still swollen and tingling from our kisses.

  Could I get kicked out of school? Could he lose his job?

  “I should…” He shook his head. “…go. I should go.”

  He looked like he wanted to stay, like he wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth again, all that came out were more curses. Funny, the mask had protected me, given me one night as the innocent princess who could have a kiss with a prince.

  The minute the mask was pulled off...

  He saw me for what I was.

 
; Lisa, the notorious model, Melanie, who’d fallen off the face of the planet, changed her name, and couldn’t be on time to save her life.

  I felt dirty, shameful, almost like he knew all my secrets, knew my past, even though I knew it was impossible.

  With tears clouding my vision, I rushed past him and into the ballroom. The more I thought about the rejection, his horror-stricken face, the faster I walked, until I was full-on running. Wes and Gabe were on the far side of the room, glancing around, probably for me. I ducked through the nearest door I could find and caught my breath in the hallway.

  “Well, well,” a deep voice said from behind me. “Has the slut finally discovered her prince?”

  I turned around so fast my heel broke.

  A leather-gloved hand covered my mouth. The man’s face was concealed with a full black mask, only there was no place for his lips, and where eyes should be, he had them covered in black material. His suit was black as well.

  I tried to scream, but the leather glove muffled things.

  “I’ve been watching you,” he said, his voice grainy as if the mask was keeping it from coming fully through. “And I’m going to make you pay for what you did. You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

  I fought against him and screamed again. My legs kicked, but he just laughed. My entire body seized with fear. The laugh was mocking, psychotic. I scrambled against him, at the same time fighting for air as the leather bit into my mouth and pushed against my nose.

  The door to the ballroom burst open. “Lisa?” Professor Blake caught sight of me then started running in our direction.

  “This isn’t over.” The man pushed me onto the ground. Air rushed out of my lungs at the impact. I coughed, my lungs burning from the combination of terror and not being able to breathe very well. The guy was already down the stairs and out of sight by the time I looked along the hall.