Page 84 of Illusory

“I did,” I said, my words coming out on a tremble as I pressed my back against the door and studied him. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier,” I said, feeling that tightness in my chest again.

“I’m the one that ought to be apologizing.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He chuckled, a bitter sound with no humor in it. “Didn’t I?”

I hated seeing him like this. All down and out and distraught. He didn’t deserve that. Not any of it. “You’re the only reason he’s made as much progress as he has. If it weren’t for you, he’d probably still be months away from even stepping foot out of that cage without killing someone.”

I knew that wasn’t what he was talking about, that he was probably referring to what happened between the three of us downstairs and how that related to what he had said to me this morning, but I chose to pretend otherwise.

He lifted his head, but only to take a long swig of his drink before dropping his head back down against the headrest again. “You know it’s your birthday soon,” he said lowly as he mindlessly swirled the dark liquid around in his glass, still not meeting my eyes.

“Counting down the days until I’m officially legal?” I asked teasingly even though my heart sped up at the realization that he’d remembered my birthday, especially since I’d been so busy with everything going on that I hadn’t even remembered it myself.

“That hardly ever stopped me before,” he said, his gaze cutting to mine then.

I bit down on my lip, liking the way his stare made my body warm. “No, it definitely didn’t.”

He took another sip of his drink and then lifted the glass to me in offering, his eyes half-cast as they raked over the length of my body.

I stared at him for what felt like hours before finally pushing off the door and crossing the room to him. Mostly because I was afraid that I would lose control of myself if I got too close to him. Or worse, do something embarrassing again, like ripping off my clothes and throwing myself at him like a dog in heat. It could easily go either way.

Taking the glass, I brought it up to my lips and slowly finished off the rest, wincing as the Whiskey burned a hot trail right down to the bottom of my stomach.

He smirked at the empty glass when I held it back out to him, like he was somehow proud. And, god, had I missed that smile. And those cunning lips. The way he tasted…

As torn and guilt-ridden as I was over what had happened between the three of us earlier, and as much as I still couldn’t picture any sort of good way out of this mess, it apparently didn’t stop me from still wanting him. Or loving him. If only it could have. Things would have been so much easier.

“I miss the way it was before,” I admitted softly, feeling that choking knot at the back of my throat again.

Dominic’s fingers closed around mine still holding the tumbler. A long beat passed and then he pulled the glass back toward himself, drawing me with it as I folded easily onto his lap.

Heat pooled low in my belly as I looked into his eyes, neither of us saying anything as we both held onto the glass as though it were the only thing still keeping us together. I wanted to kiss him then; to throw my arms around his neck and beg him to do all the things he did to me that always made me feel alive. That made me feel like I was flying so far and so high above the earth that nothing bad could ever touch meagain.

But I didn’t move, and I didn’t say anything, too afraid that he would turn me away again and shatter the dream I was still hopelessly clutching onto.

“Are you going to let go?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking about letting go of the glass, or of him.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t think that I will.”

His eyes narrowed for a split second as he searched my face, his own expression unreadable.

Slowly, he pried the glass from my fingers and then set it down on the armrest, his smoky eyes taking me apart as though he were still trying to decide what he wanted to do. I could see the turmoil in his eyes, the conflict pulling him in two completely different directions. Because while he wanted to do right by me, whatever that meant to him in his mind, he also justwantedme.

I could feel it in the way he raked his fingers into my hair and pulled me down closer, see it in the way his eyes briefly closed when he breathed in my scent like I was his favorite fragrance in the world.

“Dominic—” I reached up to touch him, to see if his face felt as velvety smooth as it always was, but he caught my hand and held it there between us, his eyes holding mine captive in his sharp, knowing gaze.

“Don’t say anything, angel,” he said as he lifted his other hand to my face and brushed the back of his knuckles against my cheek, making my heart flutter wildly in my chest. “It’ll only make it more difficult.”

“You mean more difficult to leave me?” I tested because that was what he had said he intended to do. It didn’t matter that he thought he was doing it for my benefit. He would break me just the same.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, his eyesstill locked on my mouth as he traced the seam of my lips with his thumb.

“Not leave me. Stay with me,” I offered as he parted my lips and then hissed lowly as I ran my tongue along the length of his thumb. “Give me what I want.”

A gravelly purr rumbled out from his chest, as though, deep down, he wanted to do exactly that. As though he had been picturing it right then and there. I shifted in his lap, repositioning my legs so that I was straddling him on the armchair. Dark shadows liquified in his eyes as I slowly sank back down onto his lap, feeling his hard length pressed up against my middle. It was all I could think about then. Me. him. This chair. All the ways he could take me on it. The too many layers of fabric still between us.

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