Page 20 of Love Her

“I thought you liked the fact that I’m smart?” I teased him, and earned a particularly deep thrust and pull, which made me groan and then laugh, relaxing back into the tub at last.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

“Oh I won’t,” I said, promising in a sigh to his bathroom’s very tasteful ceiling. “You have no idea how hard it is to have to pretend to be fucking stupid all the time.”

“Probably not. Although I have had to stand at the back of several rooms looking ominous before.”

I fell apart into giggles.

“It was hard work,” he complained, while flashing his eyes in amusement at me. “I took it seriously.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I said with teasing sarcasm.

“Yeah. Just as seriously as I’m taking this,” he said, finally leaning more of himself in. I tried to reach for his hard on, but he tsked me before I could make contact—even as his free hand laced around my neck. “Hold your breath, Lia,” he warned—right before he held me under.

My first instinct was to shout with surprise, grab his arm, and twist my hips away from him. I did all three within a millisecond, as he let me up. “Do you have an Ophelia kink?” I sputtered.

That made him laugh again—all the more cruel because the majority of him was dry, and I felt like a wet cat.

“Hold your breath,” he said.

“Fuck you, Rhaim—I mean it!” I shrieked—but it was too late—this time he dragged me under by my hair.

I splashed half of the water out of the tub, clawing his arm, trying to kick him this time, before I screamed—and he let me resurface.

I spit water in his face—which made him chuckle darkly, as he blotted it off with his free hand. “I love you. You think I’m going to kill you?”

“I don’t know! I’ve watched a lot of documentaries!”

And that made him groan. “There’s a fine line between smart and overeducated. Which are you, little girl?” he asked—before pulling me back down.

This time I was able to fill my lungs with air first, and I didn’t fight, because clearly fighting wasn’t going to work—I needed tothink.

If he wasn’t trying to kill me, and this wasn’t some sort of weird kink or dominance display, what the fuck else could it mean?

I stared up at him through the rippling water.

Goddammit.

This was some sort of fucking lesson.

I decided to reverse my prior course of opposition and let myself go, slack and trusting—and when he felt my defiance melt away, along with witnessing what I seriously was hoping was not the release of my last mortal breath, he raised me up.

“Were you scared of me, Lia?” he solemnly asked.

All I could do was nod—because I had been.

“Did you need to be?” he asked, tilting his head meaningfully.

And realization fucking dawned—probably because I wasn’t panicked anymore—but I never would’ve gotten there otherwise, the only way out was through.

“No,” I said, shaking my head strongly as even more steel bands broke free inside my chest. “Because you would never hurt me. Unless I needed you to,” I said, and unbidden tears started pouring out of my eyes.

“Finally,” he growled, then relaxed and gave a heavy sigh. “I may make you do things you don’t want to do, Lia—but if I do,whenI do—I need you to fucking trust me.”

I wiped away tears and snot—whatever final barrier Rhaim had just broken deep inside me seemed to’ve let every other fluid I possessed out—and he pulled me out of the tub, literally half-drowned, into his lap to hold. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I know,” I said, clinging to him, requiring him for both heat and sanity. “Thank you.”

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