ZACH
She’s so perfect I’m afraid to breathe in case I break the spell. After our shower, I popped her back into bed while I made her lunch and when I returned, she hadn’t moved an inch from where I put her.
A doll. That’s what I remember thinking when I walked back into the warehouse that night to confront Robbie.
She’d stood there, hand outstretched, gun ready to fire, looking every inch like Revenge Barbie.
It won’t last. As I curl around her on the couch, feeding her spoonfuls of chicken soup, freshly made, I see something flickering behind her eyes. By morning, maybe even as soon as tonight, that’ll be a full-blown light.
I was rough with her. Too rough given last time was her first, but I couldn’t stop even if I’d wanted to. Not without her saying no, and she wasn’t in a position to say anything.
She needed me to take control. I felt it pulsing off her skin, a pheromone that only my nose could detect.
I hate to think about what might have happened if I hadn’t been here. Tosaveher.
Those whimpers as I drove into her. My stomach clenches and my cock hardens just thinking about it. He’s ready for another go, but I won’t do that to her. Not even to her pretty mouth.
I might do other things. Kiss her pussy all better for one. Lap at it with my tongue until I’ve licked every trace of soreness away.
Yeah. That’ll be a delightful treat to look forward to tonight. I need to pamper her now. Give her everything she wants. I may be selfish, but now I’ve had what I wanted, I’m prepared to be magnanimous, too.
I think of Abby. One of the many, many girlfriends my father used and discarded over the years. When I was fourteen, she’d taken my admiring glances and pitiful attempts at flirting and turned them into a weapon to hurt my dad. Used my body—usedme—like it meant nothing.
LikeIwas nothing.
And afterwards… I couldn’t stand not to be in charge. Using ties, then ropes, then handcuffs to keep the women I slept with from doing anything without my express permission… until even that wasn’t enough.
But today I didn’t need alcohol. I didn’t need drugs.
This is still Lilac without alteration. Being the girl I need her to be the way I want her to be. So special. So unique I can hardly stand it.
After placing the bowl on the coffee table, I take her hand. It’s cold, but I rub some warmth into it, then press a kiss against her wrist.
I hope she’s happy and safe, locked away in there. I really don’t want to hurt her.
Not now that’s she’s truly mine.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
LILAC
When I wake,Zach has one arm slung around my waist, the other curled around my neck with the palm splayed across my collarbone. I’m tucked into his body like a Russian doll nesting inside its larger counterpart.
It seems a pity to move, so I don’t.
My body is sore, but not enough to make me care. I venture back into full consciousness like a deer emerging from the forest’s edge, blinking in the full sunlight.
Maybe I should feel used, but last night ended with Zach raining kisses across every portion of my body, ending between my thighs until I came, then came again with such ferocity I saw stars. If my brain lingered on the idea this was how Tessa felt—trapped inside her intoxication the way I was trapped inside my head—it doesn’t matter.
He shifts, snuggling farther into my neck until his breath is snuffling against my ear like a hedgehog searching out a feast. My eyes blink slower and slower, falling half back into a doze, then jerk open when he moves again, this time stroking a lazy finger across my stomach.
“You’re awake,” I say, stating the obvious.
“Affirmative.”
“Can you see the time?”
Suddenly, I’m on my back, Zach on top of me as he reaches for his jeans to pull out his phone. “Seven o’clock. What time d’you usually leave the house?”
