“Go back to bed, Liesel.”
“What about—”
“Now!” His booming voice demands compliance.
I have no choice but to walk back to the closet.
I find my robe on the floor and cover my body. Once again, I find myself slumping in the corner of the closet.
He walks to the door, and this time, I see his eyes before he closes the door. They brand into me, hiding his thoughts but making it clear he’s angry with me.
Then the door is shut and locked.
I’m left alone once again.
Once again with my demons.
Once again to finish myself.
I huff, knowing there is no way I’m going to come now. Tonight, I’m going to have to deal with my monsters.
To make things worse, I’ve shown Langston how weak I am for his body. Now he has an even bigger advantage. I need to figure out how to get the upper hand. I need to get ahold of a phone and call Waylon, Siren, or Kai. Anyone who might search and find me.
Or I could strike my own deal with Langston. One that keeps him from touching me during the day, but at night…
22
Langston
I wake before the sun—not that I slept. I couldn’t after what happened with Liesel last night.
The woman is the most irritating, confounding, frustrating woman on the planet. She’s also the most intriguing, alluring, beautiful woman.
And that means I’m fucked.
I should stay away, except when I’m pushing her to spill her secrets, but I can’t. I want to fuck her so badly. My balls are blue just thinking about it.
I can’t.
I can do many things to Liesel—torture her, demand truths, even kill her. I just can’t fuck her.
Dammit, do my balls ache. My cock is stiff as a board, and after thirty minutes of trying to jack myself off, I’m more sexually frustrated than I was when I started. Finally, I just give up and decide to start my day.
I flick the lock on the door and wait, but Liesel doesn’t move inside the closet.
I listen carefully and hear her soft snoring—she’s asleep.
She’ll figure out soon enough that the door is unlocked.
I head downstairs and find Amelia in the kitchen.
“Oh, Langston, I don’t have coffee made yet. I wasn’t expecting you to wake up for another hour like you usually do,” Amelia says.
I grunt and make my way to the coffee machine. I don’t usually operate it, but I’m too tired for words. I take the bag of coffee beans and put them into the hand grinder. I begin grinding when the handle pops off.
“Son of a bitch.” I slam the grinder down on the counter—beans and broken metal fly everywhere.
I breathe heavily, realizing I need a release, any release. I need to get far away from the blonde upstairs.