I strategically uncross my legs, revealing a slight view from where my dress is riding up my thighs, and move closer so that we are touching. His eyes drink in the sight of my hiked skirt and everything peeking out from underneath. Putting us right back in the tempting spot we were the night before.
“You made me sure of it,” I explain, lifting my leg to rub against his, sinking beneath my hands that are chained behind my head. “All the times you knew you were supposed to beat the shit out of me, but you were too turned on to really hurt me. The classroom after I slapped Vivian. And again, when she was standing there watching us. I could tell how badly you wanted me by the way you looked into my eyes. It took everything in you not to take me last night.”
He shifts uncomfortably, trying to look away but unable to.
“You didn’t have to kiss me when you tracked me down at that meet…before I came to WJ Prep,” I continue, wearing down on his defenses. “You know I’m not so gullible that I’d melt for any boy who kissed me. You did it because you couldn’t help yourself. And I fell for you because I couldn’t help myself. You can’t deny that there’s something between us.”
My throat hitches as I realize everything I’m saying is true, even if I am only trying to butter him up. All of the tension between us amplifies with every word I speak. My lips part as I rest my eyes firmly on him, my suspended hands growing moist. “I didn’t know what to say when you asked last night…but I feel it too. We are so attracted to each other.”
His fingers trail across my arm too slowly as he tends to the wound, his legs spread, opening slightly wider as mine do. He leans forward, continuing to bandage my cut. Not saying a word. But I can see a million things going on in his head.
“What are you thinking?” my tone is soft and low. I relax into my captive state, turning my chest straight toward him.
His eyes soften and gloss over with desire. “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I dart my tongue across my lips, loosening the tension in my muscles. “I don’t have the energy to fight this anymore.”
He shifts uneasily, clenching his hands briefly before tugging at his ear. I feel the skin on my chest grow flush as I swallow hard with a slow smile that builds. “How long do you think it will be before they want me again?” I ask as I lift my chin, holding my breath. “Can you let me go? Just for a little bit?”
He eyes me suspiciously before tensing up again, moving away as if he’s trying to break the spell. “It’s not a good idea,” he insists. “My father will kill both of us if we don’t do what we’re supposed to.”
“He’ll never know,” I protest, pulling at the cuffs eagerly. “Emmett, I won’t try anything. I just want to be able to talk to you without being all chained up.”
He scoffs with a dismissive smirk. “Fuck off, Ophelia. I know you too well. You may be attracted to me, but you also hate me. This is just a game so you can pull some kind of shit over on me. Which wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
I back off, shifting to make myself uncomfortable as I resign to being handcuffed longer. I wrack my brain for anything I can say to sway him as I feel the building intensity of time running out.
“Do you remember when we first met?” I try again. “I thought you were so hot. But then again I also thought you were normal.”
I catch a faint smirk on his lips. “So, I’m not normal?” he teases.
I answer with my brow raised sharply, letting him figure that one out for himself. “The way you kissed my hand,” I laughed. “And then you demanded that I let you kiss my lips.”
He plops into a chair in the corner as his leg starts bobbing up and down. He presses his palm to his mouth and looks anxiously around the room, fighting hard not to let my words affect him.
“I can’t believe I let you,” I mused. “Something about the way you commanded me…I just couldn’t refuse. I guess you still have that power over me somehow.”
“I wasn’t expecting to feel like that when I kissed you,” he responds with a surprising tenderness.
His recollection of it makes sense. The way he seemed confused and tormented as he grabbed at my body with an almost punishing touch. He hated me for the feelings I stirred up inside of him. He was just doing what he was told, scoping me out and luring me to WJ Prep. He never meant to feel anything for me.
“I still never expect to feel that way when I kiss you,” he added in a disappointed mutter.
“But you do,” I offer optimistically, thinking maybe I’ve found my way into him. “And I do too. There’s something between us, Emmett. Enough that…surely you can trust me to let me go for just a little bit. My arms are still sore from sleeping like this all night.”
He eyes my red wrists in concern, rapidly already turning white and red with numb tingles that hurt much more than the first time around.
Springing to his feet like he might actually let me loose, he stops again. Eyeing me suspiciously.
“Come on, Emmett,” I encourage him, sounding as innocent as I can. “Part of what made that first kiss so fucking delicious was the freedom of my hands. Do you remember how I explored your body? Trailed my fingers through your hair?”
He turns with a growl, growing more frustrated. “You drive me crazy, Ophelia. Just stop it!” he snaps finally. “When this is all over…”
He stops himself, and I’m surprised at his subtle implication. He’s hinting at an end to this. One in which I’m maybe still alive. Does he know something I don’t?
“I think a lot about those first couple of times we met,” I carry on, mostly out of bored resignation at this point. “The way I saw you before I started piecing everything together. Before I knew about the Elites…or that you were one of them.”
“Oh yeah?” he mumbles, doing a poor job of hiding his interest.