This conversation feels cryptic, and for a second, I’m considering the possibility that he may have read my journal, too. Either that, or his analogy just hits too close to home.
For the briefest of moments, the thought flickers through my mind that maybe I should just open my eyes. Maybe I do want to know who he really is. But, in the end, self-preservation wins.
If I don’t know who he is, I won’t be able to miss him when he’s gone. Or maybe that’s just what I want to believe.
“I don’t know if we’ll make it out of this room if you keep doing that.” A soft hum escapes me.
“What, this?” He continues to kiss and bite his way up my thighs, spreading them apart as he goes.
He pushes my dress up over my body, slowly sliding it over my head until I’m in nothing but a strapless bra and panties. My stomach dips as he grazes my hip bone, dragging his teeth over the curve before he bites down.
I never thought someone could get turned on by the size of one’s skeletal mass, but he seems to be obsessed with mine. It’s bizarre, but strangely addictive.
“Are you a serial killer?” I tease.
“Define serial.” He peppers my abdomen with soft kisses, all the way up to my rib cage, which he studies with more of his fingers and teeth.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.” I shiver.
“What if I said yes?” He peels down the cup of my bra and licks my nipple, making me arch into him like he didn’t just admit he’s unhinged. “Do you want the version of me that lets you sleep at night, or do you just want to know you’re the exception?”
My throat works as I contemplate it. The truth is, almost every man I know could be considered a serial killer. They’ve all killed, multiple times at least. It’s normal in my world, so it’s not that I’m afraid for that reason.
“I want to know I’m the exception,” I admit.
There’s a moment of hesitation from him that should probably terrify me, but if I’m the prey in this scenario, maybe this is my fawn response.
“You’re always the exception, Gabriela.” He smooths my bra back into place and shifts his weight so his lips are only a breath from mine. “I never want to hurt you. That’s why I gave you the knife.”
“So I feel safe with you?” I swallow.
“So you can use it if you need to.”
There’s something about the tension in his voice that makes me feel like it’s not just an assurance, but rather, a failsafe. Before I can think of anything to say in response, he pulls away, leaving me disoriented as he starts to dress me.
I keep my eyes closed, my mind wandering between the dualities of this situation. Sometimes, it still feels like he’swarning me away from him. But when he takes care of me like this, I can’t even fathom the possibility that he’d be capable of hurting me.
It confuses me, and quite honestly, I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to let him push me away, and I’m not sure what that says about me.
He finishes dressing me and slips on my socks and sneakers before he moves, and I hear the lamp switch off.
“You can open your eyes now.”
Darkness surrounds us as he returns to me and wordlessly lifts me into his arms.
He carries me out of the lounge and down the dark hallway, into the stairwell, before we exit on the parking garage level. It isn’t until we’re in that space that I finally get a glimpse of him, and I realize he’s wearing a motorcycle helmet.
I can’t see his face, arms, hands, or even his neck, which is now covered in a gator. It makes me wonder if it’s intentional, or if it’s a logical choice for whatever he’s about to do next.
His boots echo off the floor, and the space is so empty, I can only assume that Riccardo and his investors left. In any case, Eros doesn’t seem to be concerned about the possibility of running into them.
He stops and sets me on my feet beside a sport bike.
It’s matte black, with the Ducati logo printed across the tank. The back seat is so small, I’m certain Eros underestimates how wildly uncoordinated I am.
I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger and grabs another helmet from the back.
He helps me put it on and adjusts the chin strap before he presses a button on the side. After a few moments, the speaker hums, and his voice startles me.
