Page 25 of Dirty
Her lips parted into a half-snarl. “You can’t be serious. Of course it does! I’m not insane. The moment I saw what you did, any and all attraction I felt for you went up in smoke.”
“False. You still can’t stop looking at me, thinking about what happened between us, and you hate yourself for it. You don’twantto want me. You don’t want to know that I’ve been inside you, and that when you close your eyes you can still feel me inside you, but it’s the truth. Deny it all you want. I know it’s true. You hate me, hate who I am, but there’s a very large part of you that wants me to fuck you again, Sera. My dick’s the best you’ve ever had.”
Her eyes were the size of silver dollars as she stared at me, her face growing paler and paler by the second. “You really think you’re untouchable, don’t you? You think no one can resist you, regardless of the fact that you’re a monster.”
“No. I don’t think that. I think most women would have killed themselves trying to get away from me by now, no matter how great the sex was. You haven’t tried to get away, Sera. You’ve thought about it. I’ve seen the look on your face. I let you keep that phone in your pocket just to see what you’d do, and you haven’t tried to ask anyone for help. The truth of the matter is that you’re not horrified by what I’ve done. You don’t care that I’m punishing the bad guys, even though you know you should. And you can’t tamp down the need you feel every time you fucking look at me, because I can read it all over your body. Look at your hands right now, pressed flat against your thighs. You’re palms are sweating, and all we’re doing is talking about sex.”
“Well…I don’t want to talk about sex anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because! Because it’s fucking pointless!” She was flustered. Her cheeks were scarlet, and her eyes were shining a little too brightly.
“Okay, okay. No sex. What do you want to talk about instead?” I asked her, trying to bite back a smile. This was more fun that it should be, but it was her own fault. She presented herself in such a tough light. Unbreakable Sera. If she wasn’t so determined to maintain her cool, then it would be far less fun watching her lose it.
“I don’t care. Anything,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“All right. Tell me what were you dreaming about just now.”
Silence.
I knew I’d asked the wrong thing the moment the words left my lips, but it was too late to drag the question back and reclaim it now. The truck was already swamped with tension. Sera looked straight ahead out of the windshield, and for a long, long time she held her tongue. Whatever she’d been dreaming about, it must have been terrible for her to shut down so abruptly. It was done, though. There was no going back. I could practically hear her grinding her teeth together again.
“How about we don’t talk at all?” she murmured.
And so that was that. The remainder of the journey to Fairhope took place in silence.
ELEVEN
DON’T GET ANY IDEAS
SERA
The chapel was iconic. White. Tiny. Cute as fuck. The kind of chapel that went on the top of a wedding cake. It was visible from the bottom of the long, winding, sweeping road that led up to Easterleigh Estates, the venue Ben’s parents had paid fifteen thousand dollars to secure for their big day. Madness.
Fix made a clipped, clicking sound as we wound our way up the road toward the main hotel, where the bridal party were undoubtedly still fast asleep. “This place looks like hell on earth,” he muttered under his breath. They were the first words he’d parted with since he’d asked me about my nightmare—the same reoccurring nightmare that plagued me so regularly—and they were a mirror to my own thoughts.
“My sister likes pretty things,” was all I offered in response.
“And you? You don’t like all this…pomp and ceremony?” He wrinkled his nose. “You wouldn’t have all the bells and whistles if you got married?”
“I’d never get married in the first place.”
He grunted. “You know we’re going to have to share a room again, right?”
My nostrils flared, a cold finger stroking its way down my back. I’d already realized we’d have to share a bed again. The hotel was at capacity, filled with Amy’s other numerous guests, and on top of that my sister would have questions if the man I brought as my date to her wedding was sleeping in another room. The fact that I’d realized this didn’t make the idea of sharing a room with Fix any more comfortable, however. Fix pulled up outside the large, colonial building, lit up by columns of bright, and I struggled to swallow down the lump that had risen in my throat.
“You can sleep on the couch.” I got out of the truck as soon as the engine died, and Fix was hot on my heels. He collected our bags, and I was hit by the strangest sensation: how normal this all could have been. Me, bringing a date to the wedding. Him being a gentleman and collecting our things, before we headed inside together.
“Fair enough,” he said airily. “I’ve slept in worse places.”
He’d probably slept inside a dead animal or something, trapped out in the wilderness while he was stalking one of his prey. I could see him doing that so clearly in my mind that a shudder traveled down the length of my body, settling at the base of my skull. “My sister’s going to see right through this bullshit. You know that, right?” I said, hurrying up the steps that lead inside the hotel. Fix kept stride beside me, taking three steps at a time.
“She’s not going to be investigating the veracity of our relationship. She’s getting married. She’s going to be focused on her dress looking just right and her flowers arriving on time.”
“You don’t know my sister.” Amy might have fussed and preened over lace and silk, silver and gold, ever the magpie, but her mind wasn’t always fixed on the trivial. She saw things, noticed the subtle undertones and subtexts of people’s speech and their behavior. Fix was right in that she would be worried about everything going smoothly later on today, but there was no doubt in mind that she’d sense something was up.
The inside of the hotel was plush and decadent: soft, thick, cream carpet underfoot; warmed light dripping from sconces on the walls and grand chandeliers suspended from the high ceiling; heavy, embroidered curtains hanging at the eight foot high windows; a counter of white marble, shot through with dove grey and gold veins, running the length of the right hand wall. In short, it was absolutely stunning. Ben came from old money, I’d known that for a long time, but this was the first time I saw the luxury and comfort that old money could buy. This was the life he could afford to give Amy, and for one very short moment I forgot everything that had happened in the past thirty-six hours. I was glad, instead. Relieved, in a way. I’d been taking care of my sister for so long that it seemed as though I would always be doing it. I’d never resented the fact that she needed watching out for, but now, with Ben in her life, someone else had taken that burden from me and discharged me of the crushing responsibility once and for all.
