Page 35 of Compulsion

“No, you listen to me!” I stood up. I was yelling now, God help any neighbors. “Where do you fit into all this? Tell me what’s going on with this family business! Tell me something about you, something I can’t fit on the side of a cereal box. How much do you know? How much do you get involved with? Why aren’t you bothered? Or are you so fucking comfortable here that you don’t question where the money comes from for it all?” Seve’s mouth opened. He looked shocked, but I never gave him time to reply. I gripped the side of the table and leaned menacingly toward him. “Who hired Peck? Why? What were his instructions here? Did he tell you about his job in London? Sharing his expertise, boasting about his success? Did he ever mention a man called Stewart Matthews?”

“That’s enough, I said!” Seve stood too and grasped my wrist. He twisted it, and I yelped with the sudden pain. But it had the right effect—it shut me up and halted my growing hysteria. We stared at each other, panting. My hair had fallen forward on my forehead, and there was a trickle of sweat running down the side of my face from my hairline. My chest heaved with the agony of my memories and the fury I felt because they were returning. I wasn’t even sure anymore if it was anything to do with Seve or not. I was absorbed in my own horror.

Maybe Seve saw my breath slowing. Maybe he felt my muscles relaxing. Whatever the reason, he let go of my wrist. I resisted the urge to wince and rub at the sore skin.

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be apologizing or even what I was apologizing for, but I found myself saying it. “You said I liked to talk, didn’t you? It must be hell for you to cope with. Your guys obviously had it right after all—it’s better I leave you the fuck alone.”

He caught my arm, even as I drew away. He was gentler this time, though not much. “Stay!”

“Dammit, Seve, let me go.”

He didn’t. Instead, he drew me nearer to him. “You think I’m involved with this shit, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I hoped not, but… I couldn’t be sure. It was torture, and all the worse because it was self-inflicted.

“Yet you still came here with me. Still slept with me.”

That was an easy one to answer. “I’m stupid.”

Seve’s expression was odd, unreadable. “No, never that,” he said, softly.

“Then I don’t know why,” I said.

“I do. This is why.” He leaned over and kissed me firmly.

I accepted it, my lips soaking up the moisture from him. The rush of emotion made me dizzy, and the flicker of desire in the pit of my stomach had been heightened by my passionate outburst. Despite my anger and confusion, I wanted nothing more than to thrust my tongue back into his mouth.

He pulled away first, leaving my lips quivering, searching for his, reaching shamelessly for him. “I’m a sucker for a good kisser, you mean?” My voice was shaky.

He shook his head like he was tired of my jokes. “I never met anyone like you, Max.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, you’ll listen to me now!” He gripped the back of his chair, and his voice was harsh. “That night at the club—when I first saw you. I wasn’t looking for anyone, you know? I think I told you that. I was just looking out for the club. It’s still early days in my job, and I want to do well. I have good staff but I often call in personally in the evening, at least for a while. I wasn’t due to stay around that night. But then I changed my mind—because I saw you.”

I was silent. It was a revelation, hearing him talk. Did I truly believe him?

“Yes, I know.” He could see the doubt on my face. “You’d believe that I cruise my own club every weekend. That I pick up a different partner every night to fuck in some dim, silent backyard, with barely an exchange of names.” It was a frighteningly accurate description of that night—of my original opinion of that night. “I won’t deny it, Max. I don’t hold back when I want something. Someone. And I am rarely refused. But that’s not what I was seeking—not that night. Did you see me with anyone?”

“I… no.”

“Believe me, I could have had company several times over.” I believed it, because I’d been amazed that night that he was alone. That he’d beckoned to me. “I have always had choice, Max, plenty of choice and willing players for whatever game I suggest. But you appeared at the other end of the bar and that was it. I had to have you. I’d only meant to stay long enough to check how well the new lighting worked on the dance sets, and then I was due to go to a promotional party. Or come back here, which was looking more likely.”

“You were bored?”

“I was,” he replied, his voice level. Only the narrowed eyes gave away a hint of other emotion. “But you changed that. Something in you challenged me. It’s not something I’m… used to. I wanted to know you. I wanted to find out about you.”

“You wanted to fuck me.”

“Yes.” He wasn’t fazed, whatever sarcasm I threw at him. “And you wanted me to, didn’t you? I saw that in you, Max. But that’s what attracted me—not just the desire in you but the passion barely held in check. The need. The self-control you must have, to act as a different person other than the one you sleep with at night.”

“Shit,” I whispered. I felt as if I’d been laid bare before him—and far more than physically.

“That’s what appealed to me, Max. Your passion. I understand that too well. Don’t pull away from me now. Don’t let this strange obsession you have spoil things. Each time I see you, I feel… it’s different.” He shook his head, impatient with himself, I think, not me. “Remember how good we are—how much we pleasure each other. I… I don’t have that from anyone else. I never have.”

“No guests, Seve?” I looked around the beautiful but sparse flat. Anywhere rather than at those intense eyes. “No lovers?”

“Of course there have been lovers.” He smiled wryly. “You didn’t expect anything different, did you? But not since you—and not here. I like my sex fast, immediate, and sometimes dangerous. There’s an added excitement to creative locations, don’t you agree? But I do not invite people back here. At all.”