Page 17 of Save Me
Her body trembles as she comes undone. Her climax triggers mine, and I press deep inside her as waves of release crash over us both.
We’re a mess of sweat and sex in a car park filled with strangers who have witnessed this claiming.
I pull back slightly, just enough to look into Vogue’s eyes. “You’re mine,” I say, my voice low and absolute.
She smiles, a wicked curve of lips that promises more sin in our future. “Always,” she breathes out.
As our breathing slows and reality begins to seep back in, we straighten our clothes—foregoing any attempt at full decency—and laughing almost manically, we climb back into the SUV without a word and head for home.
6
VOGUE
As Thayerand I step into the penthouse, the air feels heavy, like walking into a room where a fight’s just paused. I know that feeling too well. We’re quiet as we close the door behind us, our shoes soundless on the polished floor.
“Something’s off,” I whisper, but Thayer doesn’t need to say anything; his hand tightens around mine, a silent acknowledgement.
Lounging in the living room with ease that irritates me, Aaron McGowan, with shadows clinging to him like old friends, looks over at us, his eyes piercing through, locked onto us with a sharpness that cuts across the space between us. The rest of the guys are there, silent and pissed off.
I don’t blame them.
“Vogue,” he starts, no greeting, no-nonsense. His voice is low, almost respectful, which is more unnerving than any shout could be.
My life at Crestmont seems miles away, even though it’s only been hours since I was on campus, lost in a world of academia so different from this one.
Thayer’s grip on my hand is my anchor, reminding me where I stand and who stands with me without saying a word. He’s here; I’m not alone, but this isn’t his fight. It’s mine—always has been.
“Let’s talk,” Aaron says, and there’s an edge to his invitation. It’s not a request. It’s a command from a man used to giving orders, not taking them.
Callum, Quentin and Harry, follow Thayer out of the room, leaving me and dear old dad to stare at each other. He is here for a reason, and I’m betting it’s about the guy whose grave we left the others to dig.
I feel guilty that we left them, but the shock was pushing me to do something wild, fierce, what Thayer promised me, and it didn’t disappoint.
Aaron rises and strides across the room and pours two glasses of scotch from the side table, his back to me. The clink of the bottle against the glass is sharp in the heavy silence. He turns, offering one to me with an expectant lift of his brow. I shake my head. Not after last time.
“Sit,” he says, gesturing toward the plush leather couch.
Doing as he says, I plant my ass down as Aaron settles into the armchair opposite, legs crossed, drink in hand, the epitome of casual power.
“Vogue,” he starts, his tone smooth like the whiskey he nurses. “You’ve proven yourself capable—more than that. You have a gift.”
I hold his gaze, wondering what he’s getting at this time.
“Your time at Crestmont has served you well, but it’s just the beginning. Join me, and I’ll show you what real power feels like. The luxury you’ve never known, the guidance of someone who truly understands your potential.”
The offer hangs in the air, gilded and tempting. But I’ve worked too hard for my independence to give it up so easily.
“Real power?” I echo, scepticism lacing my words. “Or a gilded cage?”
Aaron smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “You think you’re free now? With me, you can be so much more.”
My heart beats a steady rhythm, betraying none of the confusion that his words stir up. A part of me craves the dark allure of his world, the thrill that comes with danger and control.
“Guidance is just a pretty word for control, isn’t it?” I challenge softly.
“The rewards are worth it.”
“Do you know what I did tonight? Is that why you’re here?”
