Cruel Legacy (Cruel 3)

I stepped over to the liquor cabinet and retrieved two whiskey glasses. My fingers trailed over the various bottles and decanters before selecting the prettiest bottle and pouring each of us a glass. Liquid courage never hurt anyone.

I carried the drinks back to the neatly arranged coffee table when Penn returned with Totle. My gaze scanned over his features that had been carefully hidden by the mask, which now dangled from his hand. It wasn’t a particularly large mask, but somehow seeing those high cheekbones and bright blue eyes unobstructed was so much more satisfying.

“No mask?” I breathed.

“I got weird looks,” he said as he scooped up the little dog and carried him over to me.

“Fair.”

“I see you took ‘make yourself at home’ literally,” he said, nodding toward the alcohol.

“Can’t blame me.” I scratched behind Totle’s ears, and he nuzzled his head into my hand. “God, he’s so cute.”

“Me or the dog?”

I grinned up at him. “The dog. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Penn repeated.

He set the puppy down on the couch where he promptly curled up into a tiny ball on top of a blanket. His big, dark eyes staring up at us, saying, Love me.

“And now yours,” he said.

His hands moved to the ribbons holding on my own mask, and I let him pull the string, releasing it. He caught the edges of the mask and removed it from my face. And with it, that last line of defense was stripped away. I was bare before him, even still in clothes that adorned my body like armor.

“That’s better.”

“Ah, the physical mask,” I purred as I passed him the glass of bourbon. “So much less potent than the mental ones.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you wear a mask for anyone?”

“You just took mine off.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, unconvinced.

“Yours comes and goes though.” I took a sip of the bourbon and felt the liquid forge a pathway for the flame.

“Not with you.”

“Ha!” I said with an exaggerated laugh. “When it’s convenient for you.”

“I don’t have one on right now.”

“Good,” I told him, slipping an inch closer and staring up into the face of the man who had tricked me so completely. Who I fought to hate … and forgive … and decide. The face of someone eternally torn between right and wrong.

“Tell me about the last week, Natalie.” His voice was strained.

“What’s to tell?” I asked. I downed another swallow of the liquid.

“Don’t bullshit me. We both know that you went home, messed up from that thing with Katherine. Then I didn’t hear from you until this.”

“So?”

He sighed and set his glass down, untouched. “How are you?”

“As well as expected. How are you?”

I wanted to confide in him about what had happened the last week. What Lewis had done to light my career on fire. The place I’d sunk into to deal with it. And the way I was pulling myself up, hand over hand, to escape it. But I didn’t. I wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Nat…”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Just talk to me.”

“Or,” I breathed, running my hand up the front of his tuxedo, “we could not talk.”

He chuckled softly. “You’re determined to keep me at a distance.”

“No, I’m not.” And I wasn’t. But I couldn’t do this right now. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Penn. You want to talk feelings. And I want to enjoy the evening.”

“We can’t talk and then enjoy the evening?”

“You got me back to your place. Hasn’t anyone told you not to play with your food?” I said dramatically but with a hint of a smile.

His powerful hands came to my arms. Those long fingers trailed their way up to my shoulders. The pads digging gently into my sensitive skin as he moved to my neck. My throat bobbed as his thumbs dragged from the hollow of my throat up to my chin. He commanded me in that moment, tilting my chin upward and then to the side, exposing my throat to him. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as my pulse jumped in excitement. His thumb lingered along my jawline as he took his time to examine every inch of me before sliding back down the side of my neck.

He dropped one featherlight kiss to the space on my neck he’d just caressed. “Are you saying that I should eat you?”

“Devour me whole,” I breathed, still trapped in his heated gaze.

He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands into his pockets, as he’d done so many times before, and strode in a slow circle around me. I stayed perfectly still. I was no longer the apex predator in the room. And he watched me with complete confidence and all the control.

I’d surrendered it to him when I entered his apartment.

Penn stopped at my back. I didn’t move. Hardly even breathed. Was he going to undress me? Take me right here, right now in my Cunningham dress? Or do nothing?