Cruel Legacy (Cruel 3)

We all stumbled. We didn’t all get back up.

I circled Penn like a lioness stalking her prey.

He might be coming for me. But I was keeping him in my sights. Drawing it out until he got closer.

I turned away for a second to grab another glass of champagne, but when I looked for him again, he was gone.

My eyes widened in surprise and then scanned the room. Where the hell had he gone?

I walked carefully around the perimeter of the club, trying to figure out where I’d lost him. Every guy was in a tuxedo. Everyone was in a mask. That was the point. That was the fun. But I’d thought I had this figured out.

Then I felt strong hands brace my hips, a hot body press into my back, the flush of a breath against my neck. My body tensed at the first brush of his lips against the most sensitive spot behind my ear.

“Found you,” he breathed.

I relaxed back into him. “How did you know it was me?”

“I’d recognize you anywhere.”

“Even with my hair up?” I teased.

My sheet of silvery-white hair was my most telling feature. And I’d purposely had Amy pin it up so that only a few tendrils fell down around my face and over my shoulder. Otherwise I’d have stood out like a spotlight on a dark night.

“I know the way you move,” he said, our hips swaying to the tempo of the music. “My hands know every inch of your body. They long ago memorized your gentle curves.” He slid his hands forward over my hips. “I know the shape of you, the sensuous way you walk, the confidence in every step.”

Something got stuck in my throat at his words. I tried to push it down. Down and away. “Oh?”

“Oh, yes. With your shoulders back, chin up, eyes steady.” His lips trailed down my neck, capturing me completely. “You might not have been born into this world, but you carry yourself as if you belong in every situation. Even when you’re terrified.”

“I’m not terrified,” I said hoarsely.

“Of course not.” He sounded disbelieving.

Maybe he wasn’t a hundred percent wrong. I was afraid of this world, of failing. But I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t.

I turned in his arms and wrapped mine around his neck, staring up into his dark mask. I wanted nothing more than to peel it from his face and look up into his perfect features. But I wouldn’t. Not yet.

“Well, you found me. I guess that means that you can have me.”

“I guess it does.”

“How exactly do you want me?” I purred seductively.

“In every way,” he said seriously.

“Shh,” I said, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t complicate things.”

“Is this all it is then?”

I stared up into those big blue eyes, willing him to see the truth. “Would you be mad if it was?”

He pursed his lips. “This doesn’t feel like you.”

I laughed at his words and ran my hands up into his hair. “Doesn’t it?”

A muscle flickered in his jaw at my nonanswer. Because of course, this wasn’t me. I wasn’t me anymore. That was what this world did to people. It changed them. He was the one who had taught me that. And he’d been right.

“I thought you said that you wanted me,” I told him.

“I do.”

“Just not like this?”

His hands roamed from their position at my hips, up, up, up until his thumbs ran under my breasts. “I want you like this.”

“This is what I want,” I told him. “You said you’d wait for me. However I was.”

“I knew that you’d still be hurt after what happened, but this isn’t exactly…”

I stepped back, aching with the absence of his hands. But Penn was already pulling me back into him.

“You don’t have to play games with me.”

“Who said I was playing games?” My lips coyly curved upward.

“You forget who I am. I know it when I see it.”

“I’m offering myself up, Penn.” I spread my arms wide. “Here I am. Take me.”

“You’re just offering sex,” he corrected.

I lowered my arms with a sigh. “Is it ever just sex with you, Penn?”

His voice turned low and gravelly as he dragged me tight against him. “Not with you.”

Then his lips were against mine. And I forgot about how I had planned to keep him at a distance. I forgot about Amy’s warning that there was no way I could handle Penn Kensington. No one could handle him. It wasn’t possible. I forgot everything.

There was a reason that I’d fallen for him seven years ago on one blissful night in Paris. Why he’d won me over in the Hamptons a year ago. Why I’d never been able to get him out of my system for the next year. Not even while I was dating someone else.

Penn Kensington had ruined me for all other men.

And this one kiss proved that all over again.