Then I do something I shouldn't.
Something dangerous.
Sienna: You're not a gentleman. What did you mean by that?
Cam: You know what I mean.
Sienna: What, exactly?
Cam: I can't tell you.
Sienna: Because of Ty?
Cam: Because you'll think of it every time you're with another man.
Sienna: Let's say I do. Say it's the perfect mental image and I replay it again and again. It's so perfect it makes me come like I've never come before.
Cam: Say it does.
Sienna: Why would I deny myself that? Even if it means I compare every other man to you.
Cam: No.
Sienna: Why.
Cam: I'm not going to be the one who fucks with your head.
Sienna: My head is fine.
Cam: And I want it to stay that way.
Sienna: If you don't want me, say that. Don't hide behind this paternalistic bullshit.
Cam: You know I want you. I'm not going to deny it.
Whatever.
Cam: I want you because you're gorgeous and funny and bold. And because it will destroy both of us. Because I've spent the last fifteen years trying to destroy myself and I'm pissed enough to admit it.
Sienna: What if it didn't?
Cam: How could it not? Is that really what you want, Sienna? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life hating your brother-in-law? Resenting your sister? Hating me for letting you make that mistake?
Sienna: It's my mistake to make.
Cam: You didn't answer.
Sienna: You're obnoxious.
Cam: I know.
Sienna: Are you really drunk?
Cam: Yes.
Sienna: Is that why you admitted you want me?
Cam: You already know I want you.
Sienna: I could hear more.
Cam: I'm not going to fuck you.
Sienna: So? We're just texting. You could tell me more. You could tell me exactly how you'd ruin me.
Cam: Can you really handle that?
Chapter Fifteen
Cam
Can you really handle it?
It's a ridiculous question. Like asking if she can handle jumping out of a plane or fighting a tiger in hand-to-hand combat.
How is she supposed to answer the question without a frame of reference?
That's not Sienna.
She isn't the type of person who pauses to ask herself can I handle this? She isn't the type of person who considers the possibility she can't handle something.
I'm the same.
I thought I could handle everything life threw my way. In a sense, I did. I'm here. I'm successful. I'm holding it together.
But something inside me is broken. Has been broken since the day Winter invited me to her flat.
This isn't the same.
Sienna is an adult. We're flirting.
I'm a great fuck, yes, and she would remember forever.
She'd even be distracted for a while.
Then she'd meet someone else. Someone she loved, who loved her. He'd lack in some way—skill, creativity, stamina, size—but he'd be capable of opening his heart.
Inviting her into it.
Turning sex into making love.
And that would make all the difference in the world.
Making love. How ridiculous. It's something my parents would say.
But then it doesn't need to look like making love. It doesn't need to be soft or slow or tender.
It can be Indigo, trusting Ty enough to let go completely.
They're not soft. They're not slow. They're certainly not tender.
But they're exchanging something every time they fuck. Power. Trust. Intimacy.
I can fake it.
I can tell a woman she's my entire universe.
I can tie her to my bed and ask her to submit.
But not because I'm exchanging trust. I don't have any to give.
Sienna: You're not as intoxicating as you think you are. I kissed you and I'm fine.
That's bullshit. It meant something to her.
I can still taste her cherry lip gloss.
I can still feel her body yielding to mine.
Cam: Have you kissed someone else?
Sienna: Yes.
Jealousy surges through my veins. She's kissed someone. That's all. And I'm ready to find the arsehole and kill him.
I set my cell on the desk. Stand. Rub my sore neck. It's too late, and I've had too much wine.
I need to stop before I do something even more stupid.
I move into the bedroom. Change. Wash up. Ready for bed.
My mobile buzzes against the desk.
Leave it there.
Go to sleep.
Think of anyone else.
I don't. I pick up my cell right away.
A picture message from Sienna. A mirror selfie, from her nose to her toes.
She's in tiny pajamas. That thin black tank top and matching knickers.
One strap falls off her shoulder. Like the top is begging for removal.
Immediately, the image forms in my mind. Me, in her flat. Pushing her top to her waist. Ordering her to take off her knickers.
Demanding she come for my viewing pleasure.
I can ask now. Ask her to fuck herself thinking of me.
Insist she call so I can listen.
Or video so I can watch.
Sienna: I'm not like you, Cam. I'm not a tease. When I want something, I take it. No bullshit. No excuses. It's like the kiss. I know if it left a mark on me. You know if this leaves a mark on you.
It's a dare.
I'm not stupid enough to take it.