Page 96 of Undeniably Corrupt
Probably because he does things like this. The moment my feet reach the bottom step, he picks me up bride-style and carries me into his library.
“What are we doing?”
“I thought you might like another drink in here.”
I laugh, but the sound cuts off fast. “You’re serious?”
“Get undressed but do it slowly. I want to watch as I light a fire and pour some wine for us.”
“I’m not sure I should have more alcohol.”
“You’re here with me, Liora. It’s too late to be afraid of what alcohol will do to your inhibitions.”
He’s kind of right. I’m not going to say no. Not to anything he wants to do because I already know it’s what I’ll want too. I’ve been taking every piece I can get while simultaneously trying to talk myself out of falling for him again. It’s back to that duel, and I think my heart is starting to lose ground on the battle. It’s going to get broken again. I know it. I feel it coming. But this is just too good not to indulge in.
“My stripping days are hopefully done.”
“I’m the only man you’ll ever strip for again.”
“Christ, this is going to hurt when it ends,” I murmur under my breath.
“What was that?”
I shake my head, and Vander lets it go as he goes over to the hearth and loads it with wood and a starter log. I think that’s my cue to get undressed, and I do. Slowly, the way he asked. I take off my sweater and boots—now that I’m no longer a sexy tiger—kicking both aside. The sofa is one of those soft, brown leather ones. Like you’d see in an old English library or something. It’s cold yet cozy.
The fire lights with a roar, and he spins in his crouch, watching me as I peel off my undershirt and jeans, leaving me in only my bra and thong. Wordlessly, he rises and goes over to the bar in the corner. He doesn’t go for the wine even though there’s a small refrigerator in here. Instead he goes for brandy, and I smile at that even as I’m hit with a beautiful pang. With memories of a night that changed every color I’m comprised of.
“Where’d you get that?” I ask, the same as I did that night, reaching behind my back to unhook my bra now that he’s looking at me again.
His lips twitch, clearly remembering. “My parents’ liquor cabinet. It’s the good stuff.”
“Won’t they know it’s missing?”
“Nah. They hardly ever drink it.”
“I never got that. Why buy expensive booze if you’re not going to drink it?”
He smirks at me. “I think it’s an old person thing.”
“Must be. I’ve never had it before. Is it strong?”
“Don’t worry, Angel. I’ll take care of you.”
I forgot he’d said that to me that night, and a twisting of emotions knots through me. It was the night he told me he loved me for the first time. The night he took my virginity. We snuck out as we often did. His father owned a lot of buildings in town, but some of them were vacant. Our favorite was the old mattress warehouse on the outskirts of town. A few of the leftover mattresses were still in there, and we’d made our own little cozy paradise in there more than once.
“Can I taste it?”
He walks over to me holding two crystal tumblers, one in each hand.
He sets them down on a nearby side table and cups my jaw. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, exactly as he did that night. “You take my breath away.”
He lifts a glass and takes a sip, and with the liquid still in his mouth, he bends to kiss me. My fingers graze his lightly stubbled cheek, and I take the alcohol he feeds me as he kisses me. My fingers rake up through the long, blond strands that tickle his forehead, and I brush them back as I swallow.
“Mmm. It’s good.” I lick my lips and sit back on the couch, crossing my legs at the knee and staring into the fire. The alcohol is warm and strong and sweet as it burns its way down into my belly.
“You like it?”
I smile up at him. And this is the part where everything goes sideways. With my breath held in my lungs, I whisper, “I like you.” Same as I did that night. And this is the part where…
