Page 27 of Blade

My anxiety started to rear its ugly head as he drew closer, but I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d been nothing but kind, attentive, and respectful since I arrived. Still, that instinctual knee-jerk reaction was there. “No, thank you. I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue, but finally gave me a crooked grin. “Roger that, ma’am.” He went back behind the bar and started wiping things down and straightening the bottles on the back wall. I had a feeling that wasn’t going to change, but at least he was pretending for now. I smiled and went down the short hallway between the bar and the TV area.

Suddenly feeling incredibly lonely, I took a right and went to the room at the end where I was staying. Maybe I should break down and call my parents. Facet had given me a burner phone before I left, I just hadn’t wanted to tell them that once again I was involved in “drama.” Also, my parents were too busy living their best life as they traveled the world to care about me.

Truthfully, I don’t know why they even had me. As a wealthy couple of socialites from Nashville, they’d had me later in life. Raised by nannies, I rarely saw my parents. The one nanny I ever got close to was older when I was a kid and had passed away when I was in college.

With a sigh, I opened my door and went inside. Then I closed it and took a step toward the small, connected bathroom.

“Blade!” I practically shrieked when I saw him sitting on my bed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I can’t be gentle with you,” he said without an apology for letting himself into my room, or for scaring me. He stared at me with eyes that looked like shards of ice.

I blinked, processing his words.

Crazily enough I was okay with that. Perhaps it was because the man who used me pretended to be soft and sweet while he did vile things to me. Or maybe it was because my experience had actually broken me, I didn’t know.

I didn’t care.

The only thing I knew was that there was something about Blade that made me feel settled when I was around him. It was as if my senses recognized him and knew that we belonged together. Like he was my long-lost missing puzzle piece and he completed and brought a semblance of order to the jagged mess that I was alone.

I felt safe with him and like no one or nothing would get to me—that he would protect me.

“I don’t need gentle,” I bravely shot back with a lift of one brow.

His gaze seemed to darken as his pupils flared.

“You can’t fool yourself into thinking we’re going to fall in love—I’m not sure I’m even capable of the emotion.”

Foolishly believing love could grow, I lifted my chin. “I’m fine with that.”

For a split second, he looked shocked before he completely wiped the emotion from his face. He got to his feet and approached me. His movements were fluid and feral, leaving me feeling like I was his prey, and he was stalking me.

As he got closer, my heart rate doubled, and I had to crane my neck to look up at him. I could see the darker roots growing out in his blond hair. I could see every dark blue fleck in his gorgeous eyes. I saw a small scar that bisected his right brow, the earrings in his left ear, the way his silver chain peeked from under his T-shirt collar, every little detail. I wanted to reach up and run my fingertips along the tattoos that ran up his neck.

“Are you, Stormy? Are you truly okay with me bending you over and fucking you every chance I get? Gripping that thick blonde braid and pulling until your back arches and you can’t swallow? Are you okay with me tying you up? Spanking you?” He reached up and wrapped his tattooed hand around my throat. He leaned in and whispered, “Making my hand your favorite necklace?”

When he squeezed gently, I swallowed hard. He smirked.

Yet he didn’t scare me.

He excited me.

“My panties are wet,” I blurted out, then cringed.

He chuckled, soft and low. “Are they now? Show me.”

“Wh-What?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.

“Your panties. Take them off. Show me how wet they are.”

Again, I just blinked.

He squeezed harder. “Do it.”

When my fingers fumbled to push my shorts down, he dropped his gaze to watch. I got them to my hips before I couldn’t reach further.

Eyes dark with lust, he pulled back, to scan down. His tongue slipped out and the tip wet his lower lip before he bit it. A barely perceptible moan left him before he reached down and ran his fingertips over the small patch of hair at the juncture of my thighs.