Page 58 of Fool Me Twice

“Don’t act like we’re new,” Cane said, eyes dark and voice deep and commanding as he finally acknowledged the past that lay between them. The one Hart had been pretending didn’t exist. “You know what to do.”

Hart sucked in a breath in the wake of those words, holding it for a second before releasing it slowly. It came out shaky, as unsteady as he felt as images flashed before his eyes. He could feel the ghost of hands on his skin, the prickles of phantom sensation.

He pushed himself off the desk, rounding it to get to Cane.

“Get to it,” Cane said, and Hart felt that familiar urge to argue, to be contrary. It was faint though, and he knew he needed it gone completely.

“I need…” he started, but Cane cut him off again, something unidentifiable passing over his face as he took Hart in.

His gaze roamed Hart’s body, from the top of his head to the tips of his polished boots. Hart knew what he saw. He knew what Cane saw in him—he always had. But he also knew Cane was aware he could turn him back into who Hart used to be for him. He could restore the factory settings and get the real Hart to come out. It was both terrifying and exactly what he was craving. What he needed more than anything.

“Strip,” Cane said, and Hart folded. His entire body went into autopilot as he sighed in relief.

He reached up to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving Cane’s. He shrugged out of his shirt then pulled his undershirt off as well.

Cane broke eye contact for a single second to look at Hart’s naked chest, before looking back up.

“Things changed, sweetheart,” Cane said, and Hart knew he wasn’t talking about Hart’s cursemark, glowing faintly on the skin over his heart.

The tendrils of it spanning the left side of his chest had never been of much interest to Cane. He was much more into the body that carried the mark. So Hart knew he was talking about the several new scars on his chest that he’d earned in the time they’d been apart.

Those, he wouldn’t have seen before. And those, he would have noticed.

Hart nodded, tongue feeling too heavy to talk.

“Keep going,” Cane said, and Hart dropped his hands to his belt buckle, unclasping it and pulling it out of his belt loops.

He held it out, ready to drop it to the floor when Cane shook his head and tsked at him.

“Belt over here.”

He held out his hand and Hart leaned in, placing the soft leather in his palm, his own hands shaking with anticipation and desire. It wasn’t the first time Cane had asked for his belt, and Hart knew exactly what he’d use it for.

Cane pulled the belt toward himself and motioned for Hart to continue. Not a single word was said between them anymore as Hart forced himself to slow down and take his clothes off gracefully. But everything inside him was burning. He wanted to rip the clothes off and be naked finally. Finally with someone who knew what to do with him. Who could use him the way he needed to be used.

He took a deep breath and realized Cane’s small office was humid with their sweat and harsh breaths. The large window had misted over, moisture gathering in the corners. It was cloyingly warm. It made breathing harder, but it also made everything feel so much more entrancing.

The lack of fresh air made Hart’s mind haze over, like he was moving through water, watching through a veil. Like somehow his body was detached from him, even when he felt like he’d never been more himself than at that moment.

Naked and vulnerable in front of someone who could hurt him. Would hurt him.

“Get over here.” Cane’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. Hart took a couple of shaky steps until he was standing between Cane’s spread legs, his ass touching the edge of the cool wood.

“Turn around,” Cane said, and Hart did as told, spinning in place until his back was to Cane. He was facing the entrance to the office now, and his lust-addled brain realized the door to Cane’s office had been left wide open after he’d burst inside.

“Someone could see,” Hart said.

Cane chuckled from behind him. “Is that a problem?”

Hart heard the challenge in his voice. Yes, it was a problem. He didn’t want to be seen like that by anyone else. He didn’t want to be on display like that, but he also knew…he was so deprived that he’d put up with it if Cane told him to.

“No,” he whispered, then gasped when Cane jumped from his seat, gluing himself to his naked back, one rough hand gripping his hip, the other his hair. He pulled his head back, bringing Hart’s ear right next to his lips.

“Don’t lie to me,” Cane growled into his ear. “You keep forgetting I know you. I know what you like. I know what you need.”

Hart swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, a burning fire in the pit of his stomach. His knees buckled slightly, and Cane held him up with an arm around his chest. His palm splayed across Hart’s stomach.

“I’ll ask again,” he said. “Is it a problem if someone sees?”