Chapter Nine
Daniel’s words kept repeating in Alison’s head. She couldn’t help it. She wanted…
Something.
She didn’t even know what exactly. All she knew for sure was that everything they did teased some deep part of her that had never awoken before.
It terrified her and excited her and made her want to both hide and drop to her knees and beg.
Still, after Daniel’s statement, they’d released her. No one had mentioned it again while they ate. Trent had hand-fed her again, and though she had her own plate, she’d found herself eating what he offered instead.
Why the hell do I like that?
Now, after night had fallen and she should have been sleeping, she stared at the ceiling.
Daniel had his e-book reader out, his back against the wall in the bed. The backlit reader meant he’dturned the lights off for her, but it seemed he hadn’t been quite ready to turn in.
He confused her most of all. He could seem so sweet and easygoing, and yet there was a darkness in his gaze when he looked at her some of the time. How he’d pulled her hair and told her she’d need to asknicelyshowed a different side to him, one she hadn’t expected.
One she really liked.
Why not ask?
The thought surprised her as much as his statement had. Alison didn’t ask for anything, let alone for someone to do…well, whatever they wanted to do to her.
She thought back to her sex life. She’d thought herself some liberated, modern woman, sleeping with men in backrooms or motel rooms or wherever sparked her fancy.
She’d thought herself experienced, yet suddenly she wasn’t so sure. The way they’d looked at her, the things they hinted at, she didn’t understand them. How could she be naive?
And yet, shewantedto know them.
She wanted to have experienced them, at least so she could look back and say,“I tried it and I hated it.”
You’re such a liar. You won’t hate it.
She considered the end of the case, when she’d walk away and go back to her own life. She’d never considered such things before—even if she’d known enough to think she wanted them—because she didn’t care for messy entanglements.
Thiswasn’t messy, though.
It was temporary. It was a job. At the end of it, they’d all go back to their own lives no worse for wear.
Which made it perfect.
What if she gave in? What if she surrendered? She could pretend it was for the case, that it was to get into character—as if that might help her not feel so strange about it—and once she’d experienced it, she could walk away.
Alison rolled toward Daniel, looking up at his face, which was lit by the glow of his reader. He had on a pair of glasses—he only wore them when reading—his attention on the book.
She risked it, reaching over and setting her hand on his bare stomach, just above where the sheet covered his waist.
His stomach tightened in response, but he didn’t stop what he was doing, didn’t acknowledge it.
Alison took the chance to stroke her fingers over his warm skin. He wasn’t as lean as the other two, with a more relaxed physique. She could feel the muscles beneath the skin, beneath the layer of fat, so she’d never think of him as weak. Dark hair ran from his navel down below the sheet, and more covered his chest. She teased that trail of hair to where the fabric stopped her.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he said, his voice deep.
Alison scooted closer until she pressed against him, seated lower in the bed so her face was near his ribs. She followed the trail back up, past his navel, so she could trace over his chest. She circled his flat nipples and stoked along the dark, coarse hair.
His body was so different from hers. How had she never realized that before?
