I roll on my side and slide my arm up under the cool underside of the pillow so I can get ready for sleep. “In general, or…?”
“When you were talking about the first boyfriend, you said you haven’t found what you’re looking for yet. What are you looking for?”
It’s a hard question. I know the answer, but I don’t want to read off unchecked boxes from some imaginary list. “I want to be loved, completely. I want someone as committed to me as I am to them. I want a man who truly knows who he is, what he wants. I don’t want to build a life that’s going to fall apart, so I need someone who knows what he’s doing, who will build along with me and be just as invested in the success of our joint venture as I am.”
He regards me with a look I might consider fondness if I didn’t know the story of our relationship. “That seems pretty reasonable.”
“You’d think. Everyone wants to fuck around and have easy, shallow relationships that they bail out of as soon as the excitement fades. Nobody wants to dig deep and really invest in a single person.”
“That’s not true,” he says. “Look how much I’ve invested in you already, and I intend to invest much more.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sorry, I should have been more specific. I want all that from a man who isn’t a rapey blackmailer who is effectively holding me prisoner.”
“Ah.” He nods as if that makes sense. “See, that’s where you went wrong. You told the universe what you wanted, but you weren’t specific enough. Now you’re stuck with me.”
I crack a smile. “Only until you get bored.”
His dark gaze moves over my face, then lowers to my bare breasts and the shape of my body beneath the blanket. “If I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for that to happen.”
I’m not sure he’s being sincere, but given the open end date on this arrangement, it does raise questions.
While I’m trapped here in this twisted fairy tale with him, my real life is on hold. If he grows bored with me in a month or two, that’s not so long. It will be a crazy memory of an odd departure from real life, a time of handsome villains in New York City dungeons and a risqué private tour of the Met. At the end of the day, a better memory than most women get of men like him who force themselves onto the pages of our stories.
But what if it takes a lot longer for him to grow weary of me?
What if this break from reality is less of a debauched vacation and more of a total relocation?
It would be so easy to lose myself to him. He’s forceful and I’m not. Beneath the surface I think he’s lonely, and I’ve always had more empathy than a person probably needs. While he’s not a liar, he is very willing to manipulate circumstances. If he sees that chink in my armor and chooses to use it against me…
I don’t know what will happen.
I know I’ve only been caught in his trap for a little over 24 hours, and I voluntarily gave him a hug tonight.
I know I’ve never been excellent at keeping my heart to myself once someone has access to my body.
I know I haven’t given him access to my body, but he’s taken it anyway.
Over a prolonged period of time, how will that affect me?
That, I don’t know.
Chapter Thirty One
Hallie
I barely wake up the next morning when Calvin does.
I’m face-down, hugging my pillow. It’s his weight on me that wakes me up, then I feel him between my legs and realize they’re spread. Before I can move or make a noise, he’s inside me. My body aches from being used so roughly last night, so I don’t make it harder on myself by fighting. I clutch the pillow as he drives into me, hard and unrelenting. I try to ignore the pressure that begins to build in my own body, a natural result of his cock roughly moving in and out, scraping my pussy walls. It aches because I’m sore, but it doesn’t hurt because of dryness, so I think he may have used lube this time.
He growls and grabs a fistful of my hair, pushing my face into the pillow as he comes. I struggle on instinct because I can’t breathe. He lets go and grabs my arm, rolling me over on my back so I have to look up at him. He looks down at my angry face as he pins me down, his cock hanging against my thigh, and smiles.
“Good morning.”
I do not return the sentiment.
He doesn’t seem to care. He leans in and kisses my forehead as if I did, then he releases me and climbs off the bed.