Page 66 of Van Cort
“For every truthful answer you want, you’ll have to take a drink. We can play and get better acquainted at the same time.” My eyes widen again at his suggestion.
“A drinking game?” I smile.
“This place certainly draws out the worst in me. Wait here. I’ll be back.” He leaves the room, and I listen carefully, wondering if this place might actually be haunted, given what happened earlier. I take the moment of solace to look around the room, skipping over the piano for the moment, and try to picture a young, childish boy, taking lessons and learning to play, stuck away in here. Alone.
He returns with an unopened bottle of another amber liquid. I prefer wine, but I’m enjoying this side of him. Whether he’s exercising some family demons or not, I can get on board with a little fun if it means getting another puzzle piece of him.
“Should we really be playing in here? It feels a little dirty to think what we did, given this was your favourite room in the house as a child.”
“You should have worked out by now that I’m not adverse to dirty. Now, where were we?” He pulls the cork stopper free of the new bottle, pours into my glass and tops his off. “If you wantme to answer your question, drink.” He sits down next to me and cocks his head to the side to watch me.
“Fine.” I knock back the whiskey, savouring the rich warmth in comparison to the tart, bitter taste of the other liquid he poured.
“Good girl.”
The heat hits my chest, but his words hit much lower. “Right. Why keep the house?”
“The simple answer is that this place has been in the family for generations and is worth more than its marketable value for varying reasons. So, while it might hold some unpleasant memories, selling it feels like he’ll have won. And he can take that satisfaction over my cold dead body.”
Okay. I can get that.
“My turn.” He downs the drink and pours another for both of us. I can already feel my head turning fuzzy. First, the wine, and with no proper dinner, I’m going to be drunk before I get through many more questions. “When did you lose your virginity?”
“Oh, wow! Really?” My cheeks heat, and I hide my face in my hands for a moment before I shift in my seat.
“Really. And, it’s a bit late to be embarrassed around me, darlin’. Or would you like me to remind you of exactly how dirty you could be?”
I hold my hand up, giggling. “I was seventeen. At college.”
“Well, that’s hardly a lot of details. I thought we were being open and honest.”
“You want our positions?” I gawk.
“Let me guess, missionary?”
“It was my first time,” I say defensively.
“And I’m glad your tastes have widened. Your turn.”
“Fine.” I hold my glass out, and he tips a large splash in, which I then knock back. “Who else have you brought here?”
“As in, spent the weekend here and showed my family home to?”
“Yes.” The glow of the alcohol starts to roll through me.
“No one. Do you think, given the type of person I am, I’d freely offer this? And given what I’ve just told you, do you think I’d share a very personal, very private part of myself with many?”
“Maybe not.” I flush again, not sure if it’s from his words, the fire, or realising that at least with this, he’s being honest. I can see it in his eyes.
My lips twitch, and I want to lean over to kiss him, but the alcohol is working too fast, and I’m greedy for more information when he’s being so accommodating.
He tips the liquid in his glass down his throat and grins at me.“Right. This is a big one. How many times have you come in one night?” Good god. I squeeze my eyes shut as I remember the night, holding up two fingers, then add one more because I’m sure he made me come three times the other night. “That’s all?”
“I think I nearly passed out with three. I’d die if I tried any more.” Another drink, and I know I’ve had way too much. My head is swimming.
“No you wouldn’t.”
I slump back in the chair, staring at his gorgeous face and annoyed he’s still looking just as good as always. “Why does it feel like you’re a different person here?” My eyes start to dip and flutter.
