“What gave you that impression?” she demanded, setting her drink down hard.
“Because you’re smiling.”
She touched a hand to one of her too-warm cheeks, aware even as she did so of the fading light, the closeness of the fog, and the exotic blend of spices permeating the restaurant. It was as if the two of them were inside a glass bubble, ensconced within their own private world. She had never been this relaxed with him—partially, because he had never given her a reason to be.
Somehow, Nicholas had tricked her into going on a date with him and having a very good time. She had gone out with him before, when he had blackmailed her into returning home, but when he dragged her to those places, Jay had gotten theimpression that he was only doing it to show her that he could, leveraging the threat of his power over her. It hadn’t been like this.
Nothingthey had done had ever been like this.
She picked at a cilantro leaf, shaken by the realization that, in his own manipulative way, he had taken her concerns about their twisted power dynamic to heart. “I guess I am.”
“Smiling?” he persisted. “Or charmed?
“Both,” she said quietly, wondering why the answer made her sad.
He picked up his own drink, knocking it back. “I deleted the one you sent me, by the way.”
She didn’t have to ask which one. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. My reasons were purely selfish. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like that. You didn’t answer your own question, though. Do you know whatyouwant, Jay?”
Thoroughly off-balance now, and a little flustered, Jay shook her head. “I used to dream of having this glamorous big city life. But living on my own cleared that up pretty quick. Now, I’d settle for a quiet life. With someone kind. Who will treat me with respect and step up when things get hard and—just . . . love me without any strings attached.”
She looked at her drink as she spoke, not wanting to see his face and terrified that he’d see the lie in hers and know just how close she was to giving in, strings or no.
When the waiter came by and asked how what they were doing, Jay felt as if she’d been woken up from a dream. Nicholas ordered another Old Fashioned and Jay, feeling uncharacteristically brooding, got herself another fruity cocktail even though the first one was already going to her head.
We’ve done it again, she thought, reaching into her bright orange cocktail and eating the rum-soaked cherry while he sipped his drink and watched her with the eyes of a tired wolf.We’ve hurt each other and I don’t even know how.
He drained his second glass in several swallows, shaking himself like he thought he could cast off his sobriety. “We can go whenever you’re ready.”
Jay eyed her half-empty glass, noting the fuzzy edges. “I’m ready.”
Desire strobed through her like lightning as they walked out of the restaurant and he draped his jacket over her shoulders. On the briny sharpness of the bay breeze, she could just make out the citrus sting of his cologne suffusing the fabric that pooled around her narrower shoulders.
Walking with him, with the city lit up in fog-muted neon, Jay felt as if her veins were filled with the sparkling incandescence of champagne.
She would have fucked him, if he’d asked. Hazy from drink and a sea of warm, dark feelings she didn’t care to explore too deeply beneath all the wounds, she would have gotten to her knees and blown him until all he could say in that deep, terrible voice was “yes” and “slutty girl” and “fuck.”
But he didn’t ask, when they returned to her apartment, and as she changed into her pajamas with the faint beginnings of a hangover blooming behind her eyes, that was almost as troubling as the realization that she wanted him to.
The bathroom door opened, spilling light over her face. Nicholas walked out of it wearing basketball shorts and an old T-shirt. As he swung onto her mattress, she rolled up against him, and he put his arm around her with a low chuckle, breathing in against her hair. A stab of pure, raw desire went through her likean iron spike when she felt how hard he was.
“Are you going to fuck me?” she whispered, feeling braver than she ever had, filled with alcohol, and shrouded by that dark velvet abyss, unable to see his face even if she wanted to.
He went very still. “You’re drunk.”
“Mmm.” She nuzzled against him and felt his cock twitch. “Yes, Daddy. So drunk.”
“Jay—” she had never heard him use that tone before; it thrilled her “—don’t.”
“Why? You can do whatever you want to me. Use me, hurt me. Make me be bad.” She clasped his hand and dragged it to her chest, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he allowed her to press his hand flat over her breast. “Just make it feel good.”
His chest hitched against her back. When he traced her nipple through her thin tank top, she moaned, and the sound of it startled them both. “Jay,” he growled. “No.”
She rolled over to face him and found herself staring at his back. “Oh, so you’re mad at me.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
