Everything, I thought.You don’t need a bodyguard; you need a therapist.
But I didn’t believe in therapists anymore. I’d had sixteen of them throughout the years, and not one could fix me.
“Do you like when I do this?” His white teeth twinkled in the dark. He snaked his arm behind the woman, fisting her hair in a death grip, angling her face down to watch how he was fucking her, deeper, more furiously now. Whimpers of happiness escaped her.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t trust myself right now. Not my words. Not my actions.
“Or maybe you’re into this?” He pulled out of her suddenly, snapped the condom off, and brought her down to her knees, shoving his cock into her mouth. She gasped before taking him in eagerly, sucking and gagging as she wrapped a fist around the base, zero doubt she was as willing a participant in this depravity as I wanted to be.
As that other woman the other night had been. He was sexy and safe and within reach.
There was so much saliva in my mouth. I wanted to touch myself. The unbearable craving blurred my vision. I didn’t have to touch myself, as it turned out. Because my body came alive on its own, my creative limbs stretching, using invisible brushes to paint myself where the blonde woman was, on her knees on the carpet. I imagined I was her. And that was enough to make my knees weak and my nipples pucker. To feel an earthquake shivering through my spine, like a long crack in the ground as it split open.
I climaxed on nothing, the orgasm making my entire body arch and tense at the same time.
He came in her mouth. She came, too. Came from sucking him off.
She gulped. He tucked himself back in, finally sliding his gaze off of me.
He removed his watch from his wrist. “Thank you, Marla. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Same. You have my number.” She winked at him, wiping at her mouth.
He put his Rolex in its case, leaning over to kiss her cheek like a perfect gentleman. “I called you a cab. Take as long as you need to get ready. He’ll wait.”
It was a part of Ransom I didn’t know. A part of him I wanted for myself. I realized I didn’t only want the shameful, unrestricted, violent sex. I also wanted the way he snapped out of his role and became someone else. Someonesoft.
Pulled back from my unexpected orgasm, I finally managed to see beyond the thick tendrils of desire. What he’d done was horrible toward both her and me. It was… I didn’t even know what to call it.
Degrading. Sick. Punishing.
She got dressed and slipped away from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. Her shoulder brushed mine on her way out, and I caught a whiff of Ransom’s scent on her, which made my blood boil again.
Not good. Not good at all. I couldn’t be possessive of this man. He hated me, he was here for only a few months, and beyond all that—he was simply unbearable.
Ransom and I stood in front of one another, like two cowboys, waiting to see who was going to draw first.
Me, I decided. I was feeling trigger-happy today.
I leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, just as the sound of the front door slamming echoed between us.
“Your after-hours activities should remain outside my safe space, Mr. Lockwood.”
“If safety meant jack-shit to you, you wouldn’t be running around in an Uber taken directly from your parents’ house like a moron.”
He tugged the back of his shirt, removing it and discarding it on the floor. His shoes, socks, and pants followed suit. He walked out of them on his way to the en suite bathroom. I followed him. I’d seen his secret now.Literally. I wasn’t going to be intimidated by a little nudity.
“So you know about the Uber.” I stayed at the door to his bathroom as he pushed his briefs down. I took a moment to appreciate his ass again. The hollows on each side of his cheeks. The prominent Dimples of Venus I wished I had for myself.
He entered the showerbeforeturning it on and waiting for the hot water. The psychopath.
“I know about everything you do.” He brushed his wet hair back from his face. A cloud of steam formed over the glass, blocking the view. “And you’re going to be grounded for that little stint. One month, minimum.”
“I don’t think you understand the situation here.” I adopted Hera’s tenor. Prim with a touch of oh-you-little-peasant-you. “This whole place is wired, remember? Tapped. And you just made a big boo-boo.”
“Not my room,” he said indifferently.
Shoot. I believed him. It made sense, since no one was counting on me spending time in this room.