“In the locker room, baby girl.” That comes from Sylvan. Amused.
My heart skips a beat as I look over my shoulder. He’s looming in the doorway; dark pants, a gray sweater that nearly matches the ice of his eyes, his coat is off, but he has those red leather gloves on. He tilts his head.
“Are you jealous?” he whispers, and I know what he wants the answer to be.
He thrives on it. Maybe it makes him feel loved.
I know, because my own emotions echo his. But I don’t want to give in. What happens when someone gives themselves to another completely?
They become nothing more than a shadow of their true selves, giving the power to others to suck upon their soul.
“Where were you last night?” I hate myself for asking the question, but it’s too late now.
A dimple curves in his handsome face. “Ah, so you are,” he says. “Jealous.”
My face burns.
Faust is quiet, but I know he’s watching every inch of our exchange.
“Tell me wherethe fuckyou were.”
The smile falls away from Sylvan’s face. He pushes from the doorway and takes one step closer. “Do you think you have any claim on my time? Do you think Ioweyou an explanation?”
I’m standing before I realize it. “You don’t want to play this game with me.”
Another step closer.
Everything spins inside my mind.
Why did I choose them over my brother? Why did I lie for Sylvan, about Will? Why did I think I could trust either of them with my secrets, let alone my heart?
“Do you think you can tell me what to do, who to see or not see, how tobehave,baby girl?” Despite the nickname, his words are glacial.
“You made a man bleed on the ice for joking about fucking me.” I lift my chin. “What will you do to him when I actually let him?”
Faust snarls my name, but it’s Sylvan who reaches me. He edges around the coffee table and presses his palm in the center of my chest. My ass hits the couch and he leans over me, one hand planted above my head as he cages me in.
The scent of him is intoxicating. It’s dark and dangerous and all the things I won’t stay away from.
His pupils are blown, nearly obliterating the white edge of his eyes.
He caresses my chin, tipping my head up, and the gentleness of the touch has me on edge.
“Do you think you can dictate whomIcan and can’t fuck?” he asks me, his lips hovering over my own. He glances down to my mouth, then back up. “Do you think you cancontrolme, Neve?”
My pulse pounds a rhythm in my head. All of my retorts, the ways I want to cut him down, pay him back, they seem to die on my tongue.
Faust’s presence is heavy despite his silence. I want to know what he’s thinking. I want to look at him to help me, and I loathe that. I’m not good at accepting help, and I’ve never really needed to try. Taking gifts from Nolan was one thing; I’m his sister, he offered them on a silver platter, and after all the shit he put in my head growing up, maybe some part of me felt it was his way of assuaging the guilt.
But this, wanting Faust to protect me, it makes me feel weak.
Sylvan nudges his nose to mine, his cold lips ghosting over my own.
“Answer me.” It’s a demand.
I want to refuse to give in at all. He turns his head and bites at my jaw.“Answer me.”He repeats it against my skin, then skims his lips lower, over my neck. I tilt my head back, allowing him access, and I feel Faust’s fingers on my shoulder, kneading me.
The sensations are overwhelming.
