“Beagoodgirland retract the claws, Madeline.”
The familiar words echo in a haze. I blink away the fog, and I’m back in the bookstore in the Romance section with Seth.
Again.
I don’t remember coming here, though. The last thing I remember is falling asleep.
Something is off about how the bookshelves slant. Vertical bookshelves don’t make sense, but I don’t give too much thought to it because a man stands in front of me, threatening to devour me whole.
Seth’s wearing his signature beanie and hideous flannel. His green eyes sparkle as his gaze rakes down my body, flames licking over every inch he travels. “I’m guessing you think I should kiss you, huh?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out, and his smug lips twitch.
He steps forward. “Already going quiet on me?”
I manage a simple nod of my head. There’s no room for talking when my mouth has a one-track mind aching to brush against his.
With a bit of tenderness, Seth runs his thumb over the pad of my lip and lowers his head with a chuckle. “You’re going to be so desperate for me in whatever world we’re in, you know that, right? You’re mine now, Madeline. I own you, and I’m going to enjoy destroying you. I’ve heard you’re cute when you’re in love, in any case. I bet it’ll suit you better than Malibu Loki.”
I whimper as if in agreement, and Seth captures my lips with his. It’s a soft brush at first, but that tiny ember sparks alive into a greater blaze. Soon it’s consuming me, burning away any piece that doesn’t belong to Seth until I’m an unguarded molten heart and flesh. “I need you, please,” I whisper against his lips.
“Of course you do. But do you think I’d fall for a pathetic worm like you? When I could have Jenny? You'll never be the endgame, no matter what you do or who you are. I’m just doing this to fuck around with you because it’s amusing to see you like this. So why don’t you beg for me some more, and I’ll reward you.”
My fingers tangle into the curls on the back of his head as the tiny, powerless “Yes sir” passes over my lips. He slides his hands down the front of my pants into my underwear.
“You see how you respond to me when I touch you, Madeline? You’re never going to feel this way with anyone else.”
He hurries his rhythm, bringing me toward the edge but never pushing me over. “And you know why, don’t you? Do you remember how you felt the first time you saw me? How you’ve been lying to yourself ever since. Tell me, Madeline. Tell me now, what did you feel?”
I bite my lip, dragging my teeth in a slow, agonizing graze.
I still have some dignity to protect.
His circles slow, and he teases me, dipping to the crook of my thigh. “Say the words you’ve buried deep down. Let it out.”
“I felt like my heart had never been whole, and it had found its other half, okay! But you didn’t want me, so what does it matter?”
“Darling, I’ll never want you, but don’t you think it’s time to be more honest with yourself?” He laughs and presses a kiss on my forehead. “You feel clammy. You doing okay?”
I dart up in bed, a cold sweat beading where Seth kissed my temple. My chest heaves as I try to gather my wits around me. “Fucking hell.” I swipe my hair out of my face and check the time. It’s four in the morning.
Great, because I didn’t go to bed at midnight or anything.
There’s a growing pressure in between my thighs that I can’t ignore, and I slip my fingers under my waistband to provide myself with some relief.
The words,I enjoy watching you rub stuff out, play in my head as I come back down.Seth. Of course, this is what he did with the hour he won. A wet dream and masturbating to images of him. How original.
I grab my phone and clack out, “I’m going to kill you for that damn dream and the whole masturbating bit. You could have used that hour better, you know,” and then fall back down on my pillow with a huff.
“You.”Mynostrilsflare,marching into the gym where Seth is lifting a comically large dumbbell.
His biceps curl and the veins on his arms pop as he drags the weight forward.
“Oh hey, tutor girl, sleep well last night?” He smiles, not even deigning to look in my direction when he stands and gathers weight for the bench press. My eyes follow the thread of tattoos on his right arm, curling over his forearm, and pressure increases in the pit of my stomach. With a turn, he catches my stare, winking at my lack of discretion in this situation. I blush, and he flashes me one of his dimples, stretching his neck from side to side.
“Why do you insist on torturing me? What did I do to deserve this?” I cross my arms.
“Is that an actual question, Ms. Finch? Because I can have a list for you by the end of the year if you’ve somehow forgotten about your past.”
