The driver took off, navigating the roads as if he stole the car before settling on a normal speed.
Pensive, Emile stared out of the window. I touched his face to get his consideration. His skin’s temperature felt warm as always. It felt, looked, and smelled like Emile. That knowledge didn’t remove the surrealism from the ordeal.
“This isn’t real,” I said, my words breathless. “I paid for this to be real. I mean, I haven’t paid for it yet, but it’s what I wanted. It should look real, but not be real. You can’t be real because you’re a part of it, right? And, what we saw back in that alley was a makeup artist and production crew doing something award-winning, right?”
“You’re lucky I could use the device your father placed inside you. I wouldn’t have been able to find you without it because Calind’s been hiding you. It would’ve been a nightmare if the police blamed you for what happened back there.”
“Uh…you’re worried about me being arrested more than the possibility I could’ve died? Did you have anything to do with what happened in the alley? Saving me?”
“Calind may be a lot of things, from what my friend said, but I don’t think he would ever let anyone hurt you.”
“I’m supposed to believe it was Calind who ripped those men—and I use the term very fucking loosely—apart?”
“Pull off here,” Emile ordered the driver.
The driver did as told, pulling over to my car, parked just outside of the campus.
Emile leaned forward and touched my phone. “We need to talk. When can you be free?”
Why the hell was he addressing me with formality? We’d fucked like rabbits for three years straight. “Prove it’s you.” I popped open the door, keeping my hand on the handle. “Prove this is happening, and it isn’t some fucked up dream, or you won’t see me again if I can help it.”
“You were always so fucking stubborn.”
“Emile!” My voice cracked as I lost the battle against freaking out.
Emile broke his stoic composure. He waved his hand over the two front seats and a privacy glass appeared. He reached over my lap and closed the door, allowing his hand to linger on my thigh. “If I tell you the one thing you’re dying to know, I need you to get out of this car and tell no one, not even Calind, that you saw me.”
I nodded, my mind absent my body.
He set his gaze on me for the first time during the short night we reunited. “This isn’t some game, or a paid-for experience. The experience is a cover for what’s real.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” My frustration heightened my volume. “I’m freaking the fuck out because you could be lying and trying to make me believe what you want me to believe. You could be a part of it.”
“I should’ve known,” he mumbled.
He didn’t need to ask me to leave. The air in the car became stifling.
As the car drove off, carrying Emile inside, I narrowly found my sanity again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I WAS TOO into my thoughts to concentrate. I missed the exit from the expressway to my house half a dozen times.
The smell of dinner and a whole new set of furniture with sleek, clean lines and darker hues greeted me as I entered the house.
Calind sat at the head of the dining room table, waiting for me. His dimpled grin and gorgeous face made me forget I had been in the middle of a horror movie earlier.
“When did you find the time?” I asked, my voice floating on a breeze carrying butterflies and rainbows.
“I didn’t. My assistant did.” He rose from the table and stalked to me.
I waffled, thinking I wouldn’t be able to walk because I was concentrating too hard on everything except what I wanted to think about to walk in my heels. I kept trying to empty my thoughts. It was a pointless exercise. I always joked that Calind could read my mind, but I never thought he actually could.
He paused at the end of the dining room table and pulled out a chair for me. “I promise I’m not in the mood to bite…yet.” He reached over the table, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured it into the glass placed above my silverware. He grasped the stem of the glass and offered it. “Seems you need this.”
I straightened the hem of my tube skirt and approached him. I plucked the glass from his hands and drained it in four swallows.
“You weren’t supposed to gulp it down like an alcoholic fresh from a failed stint of going dry. I wanted you to taste it.” One of his strong arms hooked around my waist and brought me closer. His cool lips teased my jaw before doing things to my mouth that made me forget to remain composed.
He moaned and licked his lips. “Can’t understand why they rejected the blend.”
“Huh?” Bewildered, I eyed him for any hints of knowledge of my adventure in horror-land.
“Private label. Had a few meetings with restaurateurs and club owners today. Most went well. One particular meeting did not.”
I sat in the chair he offered while eyeing my meal.
He took a seat across the table and clasped his hands in prayer position on top of the table. “How was the excursion? Uneventful?”
The way his eyes darkened, I knew he knew. “H-how?”
“How what, Regan?” he questioned with a deepened pitch rumbling through the quiet space between us. “How do I know you were in proximity with a mutilated corpse? How do I know what the police don’t—there were two other men who died in the alley tonight?” He inhaled deeply, his frown deepening. “Your clothes are carrying the familiar scent of a man I warned you to never see again.”
“It’s not like I had a choice, Calind. He kind of showed up out of nowhere and defended me.”
“Did he?” The curtness in his voice was enough to make my knees buckle.
“W-what?” I stuttered through my shock. “Was it you in the alley tonight, protecting me?”
He didn’t reply.
I shook my head, recalling what June had said and thinking Executive Suites was mind-fucking me right now. “The injections you’ve been giving me, are they blood? Your blood?”
His trademark silence answered me.
“Well, they looked like blood. The things you can do? What are you?”
He leaned forward, his ebony eyes widening but somehow still darkening. “What do you think I am, Regan?”
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” I whispered to my chest. “After today, you don’t have to worry about me wandering off in dark alleys by myself again. Lesson learned. That’s what it was, right? An expensive, gory makeup lesson. It looked very realistic.” I couldn’t stop shaking and had to bury my hands in between my legs to steady them.
“Recommit to your promise,” he demanded. “Never see Emile again. If he confronts you further, walk away,”
I shifted in my chair. “What the fuck does any promise or Emile matter at this point?”
He slammed his palms flat on the table, causing it to split in the middle. Everything on top slid into the crack and tumbled to the floor. The table collapsed, separating.
I stared at the damage with my jaw on the ground and remained motionless. “I-I don’t know what you wanted me to do. I saw a way out and I took it.”
“Regan, this is what you misunderstand. Emile set a trap for you.” He leaned forward. A look so intense it exacerbated my shudders crossed his face. “I shouldn’t have ignored what I foresaw. Returning here was a bad idea.”
“Foresaw? Weren’t you fucking with me about reading my mind? Not only am I supposed to believe you’re telepathic, but also clairvoyant?”
“This isn’t the time,” he chided me. “You need to leave. You won’t go alone. I’ll send my best to accompany you and protect you—to ensure your safety.”
“Not just no—hell fucking no. Don’t you ever watch horror movies? The ‘let’s separate’ idea never fucking works out. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“When did you think a democracy existed between us? You’re leaving town, and
if you’re planning on meeting with Emile before I send you away, don’t. I forbid it.”
“Sending me away? Forbidding me? Are you seriously fucking forbidding me?”
“Without question.”
“I don’t deserve answers? I don’t deserve to know what those men were? What you are? What the hell is going on?”
“Your history with Emile has clouded your judgment. You trust him easily. Think he means you well. What has he done for you, compared to what I have? His answers—whatever he tells you—won’t accomplish what you think they will. Here, it pays in happiness to be oblivious.”
It wasn’t fucking right. My mind was in a tailspin, and he was being a jealous bitch.
“A jealous bitch? My emotions reach beyond that of an immature adult. Every action I make is strategic—to protect you.”
He could honestly read my thoughts? What the actual hell? “Stop!” I scooted my chair backward as though the distance could make him stop digging into my head. “I can take care of myself.”
“As you could in the alley?”
“Between Emile and…I’m not asking permission for anything I do outside of our sex games. Stop trying to expand your territory.”
“Are you listening to a thing I’ve said, Regan? Emile is a danger to you. You may think you know who he is, but you don’t.”
I stared at the mess on the floor, wishing the wine bottle hadn’t shattered. I could’ve downed the whole thing right now. “The thing about it is, you’re the only one telling me not to trust him when there are so many other things telling me not to trust you.”
“Regan.” His voice fell into a deep octave and delved into that accent I couldn’t place with a particular origin. Pieces of the table went flying in opposing directions. One end slammed against the wall, splintering. The impact created massive cracks in the drywall. The other half flew into the living room, ruining the brand new couch.
I was going out of my mind and had serious regrets over casually committing to the unbelievable, which fucked over my life.
Calind was right. Ignorance paid in happiness.
With neither moving to clean up the mess, the silence cut between us.
I slid my chair back and approached my bag, still in the foyer. I retrieved a cigarette, had trouble getting it out of the bag thanks to my jittery hands, and headed out the back of the house to sit by the pool.
It was hard to smoke with my hand trembling wildly. I took longer than normal to smoke it to the filter. I remained outside until the lights grew dark, and I found a reason to be less afraid of the man inside the house.
The sun had come up by the time I went back inside and convinced myself this was what Mr. Paré advised would come to fruition. I was to be an actress, playing my part in believing it was real.
I’d practically convinced myself.
Calind was in the bedroom, lying in bed, half underneath a sheet with his forearm over his eyes while he rested on his back. Given the imprint his cock made underneath the bed sheets, I knew he was naked. The muscles in his abs, arms, shoulders, and chest flexed.
I disrobed, tossing my clothes onto the floor, and crawled up the length of the bed. While straddling Calind’s lap, I traced the muscles on his body before settling my palm against his square jaw.
He removed his arm and covered my hand with his own.
I searched his face, a face I had stared at for so many days and so many nights I knew it with my eyes closed. A face I thought was a beautiful reality.
Calind had done nothing to make me fear for my life, no matter what or who he was. Besides, I would die soon anyway. I could trust him. We couldn’t do the things we did unless there was trust between us.
“I know what you’re worried about—”
“You’re being naïve about what Emile wants,” Calind cut into my need to placate him. “I don’t understand your desire for more when you’re provided with everything you need.”
“Maybe at one point, I wanted to die ignorant. After what happened in that alley…” I bowed my head. “What I saw you do tonight and what I’ve seen you do? I have to know what this is.”
“Why?”
“To know if this—” I pointed at him and myself, “is real.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Emile’s information won’t come without a price.”
“I know.”
“What if I’m the cost?”
I slid off him and onto the bed, pretending to fall asleep.
There was only one answer: Calind wasn’t a price I’d ever be willing to pay.
Calind slid behind me, his bare chest pressed against my back. His fingertips traced the length of my arm. “I never lost sight of all I promised you. Don’t fail to remember that.” His weight shifted off the bed.
My body rolled onto the floor. I landed short of the large area rug with a hard thud.
Calind had removed the sheets from the bed, leaving the mattress bare.
“What the hell, Calind?” I bolted up to stand with my hands on my hips.
He pressed a finger to his lips, directing me to quiet.
The instant I saw the look he gave me, I slouched my posture, relenting, turning into his bitch.
He sauntered to the closet and retrieved one of his dress shirts. He plodded toward me and slipped my body into it, fastening a single button at my torso, leaving the curvature of my breasts exposed. Returning to the other side of the bed, he thumbed his lips, remaining pensive as he stared at the bed.
“Permission to speak.”
He lifted a brow, appearing amused by my request. “Permission granted.”
“Of all the times to do this, why are you doing this now?”
“The current circumstances are irrelevant. You broke yet another promise, and need a reminder of what you should feel for me and what I am to you.”
He didn’t need to say which promise I broke. Never fear him.
His eyes darted to the bed. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Fix it.”
I kept a stray eye on him, wondering where the game led as I snatched the fitted sheet from the floor at his side of the bed. I bent over, preparing to place the sheet on the mattress. As I stooped, the shirt slid up and exposed my pussy.
Calind’s abrupt placement of his hand on my spine made me gasp. He pushed me until my breasts pressed against the bed. With a flat open palm, he smacked my ass so hard the pain ran up my spine. “That’s the wrong way, sweetheart. You’re not taking this seriously. Do it on your knees.”
I adjusted my position. A hand landed on my sensitive flesh in the same spot he hit me before, making me yelp. The sensation wrapped around my ass and stung the fat lips of my pussy.
He took a step back, watching me as I went on my knees. I fit one end at the foot of the bed and tucked it under the mattress. I repeated my steps until I had four corners tucked. Now on the opposite side of him, I walked in his direction while on my knees.
“Stand there,” he ordered me while pointing to a spot near the bed. “On your feet. Place your hands flat on the bed.”
I did as told. The shirt hung forward, exposing a view of my breasts.
Instead of staring at my tits as I wished he would have, he stared at the bed, perplexed. “If you had done it correctly, there wouldn’t be wrinkles in the sheets.”
“Then, let me do it the right way.”
He walked over and slapped me on the ass so hard, I fell forward. “Try again.”
“May I do it again, Mr. Glace?” I asked through my teeth.
“No. You fucked up your second chance. I won’t allow a third.” He walked back to the opposite side. His hand skipped across his torso, grazing the only hair he had on his upper body, the long, neat strip of jet-black that extended from his belly button to his trim pubic hair. He gripped his thickness in one hand. His pre-cum emerged, drizzled over the head, and served as a gloss.
My lips parted, ready to suck him dry. Uncomfortable and fighting with a hunger I didn’t know if
he’d sate, I drooled as he stroked his shaft and squeezed the head. I wanted that gorgeousness in my mouth and inside me, and I didn’t want to wait for it.
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” His question was a sexually-charged utterance.
I squeezed my legs together in a useless attempt to make the burn go away. “Very badly,” I croaked.
“Why do you deserve it when you’re continually a bad girl?”
Damn, he drove me insane. One moment I feared him. Another moment, I wanted to tear him apart. The next moment, I wanted his cock to damn near live inside me.
“I-I’m sorry. I wanted to…” I paused and watched him stroke his thickness harder and faster. The muscles in his torso clenched, revealing deeper cuts in his eight-pack.
“You were saying?” His question was supposed to lead me back on the path, but his dimpled grin made sure I stayed far away from it.
I attacked my bottom lip with my teeth to make it behave and stay still. “I want to fuck you,” slipped past my lips.
“Run that by me once more.” A thick black brow raised his forehead.
“I want to please you.”
“Then why do you keep fucking with me?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. My eyes watered. The wanton ache between my legs bordered on excruciating.
Holding me in his gaze, he stroked his cock wildly. He slipped forward with one hand against the flat of the bed. Heavy lids obscured my view of his deep brown eyes. He groaned and came on the sheets. Some of his cum spilled onto my fingers, making me lick my lips, desperate for a taste.
He rolled his neck and took a long, shuddering breath as he stood tall. His eyes rolled up, fixing on me through his dark lashes. “Clean up the mess.”
I fought the urge to lick my fingers and slid backward to get paper towels from the kitchen.
He reprimanded me with the cluck of his tongue before I had the chance to reach the doorway of the bedroom. “With your mouth.”
Turning around, I kneeled on the bed. Opening my mouth and crouching forward, I sucked and slurped up the sweet, tangy liquid from the sheets and my hand. Once done, I looked up at him with expectancy.
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