My teeth chattered as my gaze fell on the heavy expensive gem in my hands. Could it be real? I wasn’t crazy to think it was Sully who took me as that brutish, delicious caveman?
Trepidation skated down my spine, colliding with each rib in a clanging symphony. I looked up and met Jealousy’s gaze. “If that’s true…why bother telling me? Why do you care? What do you get in return?”
She tucked hair from behind my ears before standing in the final ruby dregs of sunset. “I care because he cares. And…if he learns to care for someone, perhaps he’ll care for all of us.” She shrugged, looking much younger than her previous conversation suggested. “If you can give Sully his freedom, then maybe…we can have ours in return.”
Blowing me a kiss, she smiled at the tatters of my dress left forgotten on the beach, then strode up the steps and into my villa.
The front door closed a second later.
I collapsed on my back, exhausted as if I’d run a hundred miles, shaking as if I’d seen a thousand ghosts, blinking with a million hopes at the stars.
Chapter Eight
WORK WAS MY SALVATION.
This time yesterday, I’d been balls deep in Eleanor. Now, I sat at my desk with a cock that still smarted from overuse, a bruised heart, sore lungs, and muscles that’d filled with lactic acid and refused to abate.
Dr Campbell was right. Elixir wreaked havoc on a person’s neurological system. My body felt like a stranger, my mind a traitor, my rational thought and habits all scrambled. Thanks to Eleanor, I’d been left with explicit dreams, dregs of pleasure I had no choice but to succumb to, and the highly intense and painfully erotic memories of what I’d done to her.
I couldn’t get her out of my goddamn mind.
I couldn’t eradicate her scent from my nose, her taste from my tongue, her heat from my cock. She was everywhere. She was inside me. And being so weak to her power pissed me the fuck off.
Yes, I was in love with the damn girl.
Yes, I’d slipped and might have told her that at some point yesterday…in some version.
And yes, I’d definitely let down my barriers when I’d taken her in Euphoria. I’d been honest for the first time in decades. I’d told her I was hers. That I didn’t want her to wake up because I didn’t want to return to this fucking world. I wanted to remain in that cave where it was just the two of us. No lies, no struggles, no opportunities for her to betray me.
But that cave wasn’t real, and neither was our wild sex yesterday. Both were by-products of scientific formulas designed to trick the mind, confuse the heart, and remove the many obstacles and common-sense that stopped a human from falling in love in mere seconds.
In that, there was no gimmick or distortion.
Men fell for their goddess thanks to rioting body chemistry and overwhelming amounts of dopamine, adrenaline, and norepinephrine which made falling head over fucking heels an addictive rush.
I groaned, digging my hands into my hair.
That’s all that happened to me too.
A blend of body programming and misfiring synapses.
That’s it.
Then how do you explain feeling that punch to your gut when she stepped off your goddamn helicopter?
Stop!
I gritted my teeth and growled at Pika as he sat minding his own business, shredding a pink Post-it Note. He cocked his head, bristling green feathers. He chirped as if growling back, then returned to his shredding with ferocity.
I’m done with this nonsense.
She is human.
She isn’t trustworthy. Look at her current track record.
She’d run away. She’d stolen Skittles. She’d drugged me.
If I was stupid enough to want her after she’d shown her true colours, then I deserved the fate I’d been given.
Nodding with determination, I snatched the phone and called Roy Slater’s villa. It was time he got off my fucking island. Alone.
Eleanor would not be sold.
Not because of her little stunt yesterday, but because we had a contract—signed by both of us. A commitment of four years and then freedom. I would find a way to endure those four years. I would revoke this madness inside me. I would return to who I was, and she would begin her proper employment with weekly servicing for the men I let onto my shores.
Eventually, this scramble of elixir and Euphoria would get the fuck out of my bloodstream and I’d be sane again.
Slater answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Pack your bag. Your ride home leaves in thirty minutes.”
He coughed. “Orders now? After I was treated like a criminal and locked inside my villa all day yesterday? What the hell, Sinclair? I paid to come here. I paid for pleasure. Not so your goon could throw me into a cell.”
“That was for your own protection.”
So you didn’t see what I did to the goddess you’ve claimed.