“How terrible of an existence.” His voice is flat. “When this is all said and done, I can guarantee that you’re going to see how much I’ve helped you.”
“I’d rather see it now,” I say. “If that’s so true, I’d rather see it now.”
“I’ve told you…” His voice trails off for a few seconds. “Once you beat me at a chess game or two, I’ll consider answering whatever questions you have. You’re getting quite good at it.”
“I’d rather play twenty-one questions instead.” I swallow, stepping back against the granite countertop. “I feel like that’s only fair, since it’s not an automatic win for you.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Is that okay with you? Can you attempt to tell me some of the truth by playing twenty-one questions on my terms, instead of yours?”
“You’re already down to nineteen.”
“Are you aware that you’re going to prison for this? That I will testify at your trial, regardless of the fact that I once loved you?”
“You still do.” He smirks. “Eighteen.”
“That’s not how this game works,” I say. “I ask a question and you answer. Then you ask a question, and I answer.”
“I don’t have anything to ask you.” He runs his fingers through my hair, igniting every nerve in my body, making me react against my will. “I know all the answers already…”
Silence.
“Don’t touch me.” I push his hand away. “Since I’ve decided that I can’t trust a single word or fact you’ve ever told me, what’s your real name?”
His lips turn up into a small smile, but he doesn’t let it stay. “Michael.”
“Are you really an only child? Do you have any other family members?”
“No one that you’ll ever get to meet…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I glare at him. “Why would you ever lie to me about something as simple as that?”
“I wouldn’t waste the remainder of your fourteen questions on silly things like this, if you want to get anywhere.”
“I know how to keep count,” I said. “At what point did you decide to become a fucking liar instead of the man I fell in love with? Was this all part of some twisted plan from the beginning?”
He doesn’t answer either of those questions. He just narrows his eyes at me. We’re still standing toe to toe, the tension between us as thick as ever.
“For the record…” I say, debating whether now is the right time to say this. “I fell out of love with you the moment you brought me here and threw away the keys.”
“I never threw away the keys,” he said, his voice menacing, yet soft. “I’m just keeping them from you, for a reason you can’t yet see.”
“I was trying to pick a metaphor.”
“Then try to pick a better one.”
“I fucking hate you. How about that one?” I pushed a fist against his chest. “I hate everything about you. I’m no longer attracted to you, I no longer want you, and it’s in your best interest to just let me go.”
“That’s not a real question.” He ignored my fist hitting him again. “I think we should just pause this game at eleven.”
“So, you can regroup and get more of your fucking lies together?” I shake my head, decide to ask the only question that actually matters. “Are you ever going to let me go?”
“You know what?” He clenches his jaw and presses his forehead against mine. “I don’t appreciate being called a fucking liar, Meredith.”
“That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re looking for,” he says, his lips nearly brushing against mine. “That’s your main problem. You have no idea what’s going on around you.”
Before I can fire back, his lips latch onto mine and his hands grip my waist. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck, and I can feel his cock hardening against my thigh.
I shut my eyes as his tongue darts against the crease of my mouth, demanding immediate entry.
Giving in without thinking, I arch my back against the counter—moaning as he kisses me so deeply and roughly, that I completely forget what the hell we were arguing about. Then I suddenly remember what it’s like to be touched by this man, completely owned and pushed near the edge by a single kiss.
Fuck…
Whispering my name, he slides a hand under my shorts—slipping two of his fingers against my soaking wet slit.
“Your pussy is pretty fucking wet for someone who’s no longer attracted to me,” he says, biting down hard on my bottom lip. He teases my clit with the pad of his thumb before jerking his hand away.
“Who’s the fucking liar now?” He steps back, leaving me breathless and wanting. He looks me up and down with a scowl—as if he’s the damn captive. Then he grabs his coffee cup off the counter. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I can guarantee that I won’t be here waiting.”