Page 21 of Prey Tell
“Declan.”
“It’sDylan,” she hisses.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I tell her sternly.
Her mouth parts and she looks like she doesn’t know what to say. “Yeah. He makes me happy.”
And I know—I know—I shouldn’t ask her this question.Let lying dogs lie, and all of that.But I have to know. Some small, twisted part of me needs to know.
“Does he treat you like a seven-course meal, Parker?”
She shifts her weight and looks away.
I’ve spent years studying body language. Due to the nature of my extracurricular activities, I have to ensure that the women I’m with are enjoying themselves. I’ve taught myself to read every inhale, every muscle jerk, every expression imaginable. When my subs are too into a scene to speak verbally, I can decipher what they’re thinking through body language. We use verbal and non-verbal safe words for a reason. It’s a useful tool—one that certainly comes in handy in times like these.
And Parker? She’s so fucking easy to read.
I school my face into indifference as she sucks in a breath of air.
“Yep. Seven-course meal,” she says quickly.
Little liar.
I mindlessly play with my ring as I study her. She’s not going to open up to me tonight after hardly speaking to me for eight years. But for somedamnreason, I want her to admit her farce. And not just because I don’t tolerate lying. Juliet is not my submissive. But because I want to beright.
About why she pulled me aside tonight.
About why she cares so damn much.
I hate myself for it, but Iwanther to want me.
Though I’m totally and utterly fucked if she does.
“Really?” I ask, studying her face.
She looks down at her shoes. “Yes.”
My jaw feathers. “All right, Parker. We can continue this conversation when you choose not to lie,” I say quickly, turning around and reaching for the door handle.
“Wait. You’re right—I lied before.”
My hand stills inches from the brass handle.She admitted her lie so easily. Would she submit just as easily?I’m suddenly fighting an internal battle—be the respectful man she thinks I am, or bend her over this desk and show her how badly I want a seven-course meal. One part of me wants to shield her from me, from dirtying the Parker I’ve known since childhood. But the other part issocurious to see how she’d react.
My lips curl briefly before I turn around and glare at her.
“Why did you lie, Parker?”
Her cheeks flush as she digs the toe of her shoe into the wood floor. “Before I tell you, I need you to answer one question.”
I widen my stance and cross my arms. “Okay.”
“Why are you still trying to take care of me?”
“Parker—”
“I’m not finished,” she interrupts, eyes gleaming with rage and… something else. Something vulnerable. Her honesty always astounds me. “I don’t need you to save me, Ravage. Not tonight, and not ever. I asked you once to take care of me, and you rejected me.”
Fuck.
