Page 115 of Prey Tell
“Absolutely no sex talk about my best friend—” His nose wrinkles. “No, scratch that,” he adds, shaking his head and giving me a look of disgust. “No sex talk with you in general. Please. For the love of God, or I’ll ask one of my students to stab me in the eardrum with a pair of safety scissors.”
I cackle. “Fine. That’s fair.” Just as I set the ice cream carton on the coffee table, a knock sounds on the door. “Expecting someone?” I ask, wiggling my brows.
Jackson looks at the door suspiciously. “It’s probably Miles. He keeps trying to take me out as his wingman.”
I snort as I walk to the door, expecting one Ravage brother…
And finding another standing at the other side of the door.
My heart starts to beat furiously as Chase stares at me, his mouth open in surprise.
“Parker,” he growls, his hands in his pocket. He looks… nervous.
I cross my arms, though I’m not sure why. I’ve forgiven him. He didn’t tell Jackson about us. Still… my feelings for him are potent, and I resist the urge to throw myself at him and also to shove him for not texting me good morning every morning like he had been all last week. I’m feeling a hundred different things at once, but most notably, relief that he’s here. That maybe there’s a way forward for us.
“Jules?” Jackson calls from behind me. I hear him get up off the couch, and Chase’s eyes don’t leave mine as Jackson pads closer. They darken slightly, roving over my lips briefly before they come back up to my eyes. “Who is—oh.”
Jackson comes to my side, and I turn and walk over to the dining room table, grabbing my purse as Jackson lets Chase inside. When I turn back around, Chase is still watching me.
“I’ll let you two talk,” I tell them, giving Jackson a pointed look. My eyes flick to Chase’s, and I nod once, though I’m unsure of what I mean to say with a single nod. I wasn’t expecting to see him until Saturday. He must’ve come home a day early.
I brush past Chase as I go, and I feel the faintest brush of his fingers against mine, the softest touch of his thumb against my wrist. I look up at him, finding that he’s smirking down at me with a knowing look.
Just as I close the door behind me, I hear Chase murmur an apology and Jackson’s threatening response.
“If you hurt her, I won’t hesitate to destroy you…”
I’m still grinning when I walk down the wide staircase to the first floor, nearly bumping into a brunette woman wearing a short plaid skirt and a white blouse. Her eyes are red, and she sniffs when she sees me. Her hair is pulled back into a braid, and she narrows her eyes slightly when I hold my hands up.
“Sorry,” I tell her, giving her a small smile and continuing down the hall.
“We’re all the same to him, you know,” she calls out after me.
I turn around to face her. “Excuse me?”
She slowly saunters toward me, wearing five-inch pumps and, despite her puffy eyes, looking like she just stepped off a photo shoot.
“Chase Ravage. I assume you’re here to see him? Unless Miles is taking submissive applications now.”
My hackles rise. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She shrugs, giving me a once-over. “You’re his type. I would know,” she adds, smiling softly and gesturing to her brown hair. “Just a warning… he’ll lure you in with pretty words, but he’ll never change. Hiscontractguarantees it.”
With that, she storms away, heels clacking against the floor. I take a deep breath as I attempt to shake off her words. I know she’s probably one of his ex-subs, and perhaps she had words with him a minute ago, but the last thing she said snags on some small, insecure part of me.
He’ll lure you in with pretty words, but he’ll never change. Hiscontractguarantees it.
I close my eyes as I imagine Chase going through his contract—and list of limits—with her. She was… stunning. And yet she still acted like a woman scorned.
I walk through the castle, flat boots thudding against the marble. It’s hard not to compare myself to someone like her, though, and once I’m inside my car, I grit my teeth and quickly pull out of the parking lot.
I knew he was experienced, and I’d be an idiot to think he hadn’t had his fair share of other women.
You’re his type. I would know…
Did Chase have a type? Was I his type? I’d never considered it, but now, as I drive away from the castle with burning eyes, I have to wonder if I can live up to the kinds of women he’s used to—if I can live up to the kinds ofsubmissiveshe’s used to.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
