Incentive (Infidelity Universe)

“Sit down.” I direct him to the chair beside the kitchen table and pace through the room. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll tell you what I’ve pieced together, and you’ll fill in the blanks and correct my assumptions.”

If Laynee doesn’t talk, maybe Reese will.

He lowers into the chair, and she faces me, hugging her arms around her waist.

I approach her slowly. “In the past two years, you’ve only had sex with two men.” My chest constricts with irrational jealousy. “I assume neither of those men saw you naked.” Given the way she conceals that scar.

She stares at the floor and gives a weak nod, reinforcing my suspicion that it’s not just me she hides her body from. She wears clothing like armor, the same way she uses Reese as a barrier against intimacy.

“Why those two men?” I ask. “What did they do to earn your trust?”

“First off, they never had my trust.” Her arms tighten around her mid-section. “They accepted my deal, so I gave them an hour inside my body. It’s as simple as that.”

Her words make me feel so insanely, barbarously possessive of her. I’ve never experienced that primal reaction with anyone, and I haven’t even fucked her. But that isn’t the real issue. She’s discussing sex with verbiage like deal and gave them an hour.

I’ve kissed this woman. She’s brimming with passion and raw sexuality. When I eventually enter her body, I have no doubt she’ll scream and writhe and unravel around me, and it’ll last a helluva lot longer than an hour.

“Explain the deal they accepted.” I bend my knees, trying to catch her lowered gaze.

“They let Reese suck them and fuck them while I watched.”

Exactly what I expected. They surrendered to her on a psychological level, submitted to Reese physically, and therefore proved themselves safe enough for her to have sex with. While she kept her clothes on.

The image of her with other men makes me want to punch something, but I breathe through it and focus. Something doesn’t add up. “Reese fucked them? Not the other way around?”

“Yes,” she mutters to the floor.

I glance at him, noting the tension in his shoulders. “Reese is a bottom.”

Her head shoots up, eyes on the other man. “No, he isn’t.”

“That’s weird. I’ve only known him a month, yet I know he doesn’t like to do the fucking. You’ve known him for how long?”

“Don’t do this.” Reese’s expression tightens.

“Laynee.” I grip the counter on either side of her hips. “How long have you known Reese?”

“Ten years.” She looks at Reese accusingly. “Why does he think you’re a bottom?”

“It’s not…” He picks at something on his jeans. “It’s nothing.”

“Reese?” She straightens, staring at him with bright damp eyes.

“We’re good.” He tips his head back and sighs. “Let’s just drop it.”

“No, we’re not good.” She pushes my arm away and moves toward the island, bracing her hands on the surface. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying to help.” He shrugs.

He’s an enabler. Was. I’m taking control of her fears going forward, and we’re fixing this my way.

“You two can work out your communication issues later.” I lean against the counter beside her and hook my thumbs in my back pockets. “Before those two men, you were with Blake Harridan. You married four years ago. Divorced two years later. Because he cheated on you.”

“Congratulations.” Acid laces her voice. “You know how to Google.”

I’ve never wanted to bring unholy hell upon a person I’ve never met, but I’m burning to do exactly that now. “I’ll kill him.”

“Please, don’t.” She rubs her head as wariness leaks into her expression. “My involvement with him has done enough damage to my reputation.”

“He was a nobody when Laynee met him.” Reese folds his arms on the table, his voice clipped with disgust. “Just an extra in one of her movies. She propelled his career and made him who he is today.”

And the bastard thanked her by cheating on her. I don’t know if it’s the scar on her back or her fear of men, but I have a godawful feeling that adultery wasn’t his only crime.

I step into her space and lower to her height. “When did you meet him?”

“A month before we married.” Her face crumples. “I’ve made some really poor choices when it comes to men.”

If she’s only known Blake for four years, he’s not responsible for the scar. And she just said men. Multiple poor choices.

“Who were you with before Blake?” I ask.

Pale lines bracket her mouth before a stubborn mask slides down, shielding her emotions. “How about we put you on the spot? Who have you been fucking for the past twenty-eight years, Decker Gabrielli?”

I consider her question for a moment. She already knows my secrets, so I have nothing to hide. “I didn’t have sex thirteen of those twenty-eight years.”