Dominate (Deliver 8)

Lifting slightly, he transferred some of his weight onto his elbow and leg. It was such a small thing, a tiny glimpse of thoughtfulness.

He wanted to make her pay, but that wasn’t how his mother raised him to treat a woman. Nor was it the first time he’d shown a trace of compassion.

“I know you put sunscreen on me before leaving me in the desert.” She peered into his eyes from inches away. “Why?”

“Your skin is flawless. I’ve never seen anything like it.” His gaze traveled along her throat, the neckline of the shirt, and returned to her eyes. “It would be a shame to ruin something so beautiful.”

That was the nicest thing he’d said to her, but she needed a lot more than a compliment from him.

“Keep starving me, and there won’t be any flesh left on my bones.”

“Starvation is a very slow, agonizing death.”

“Three weeks.”

“This will end before then.”

“How will it end? I know you’ve killed horrible men, but do you have it in you to kill me?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

She drew in his threat on a sharp inhale. “This is why I filed a protective order against my ex-husband.”

He glanced at her arms. “Because he handcuffed you?”

“No. He forced his way into my house. Then he forced himself on me.”

The heat, the intimacy, and the weight of his body vanished, leaving nothing but cold vulnerability in its wake.

She should’ve been relieved to gain the space. But she was still restrained to the bed and knew that when he left the room, she would be stuck here with nothing to distract her from the hunger pangs.

“He raped you?” He stood beside the bed, his expression unreadable.

“No. He got aggressive and handsy and wouldn’t leave. It scared me enough to call the cops and file a restraining order.”

“This happened last year. Yet you divorced him a decade ago.”

“He never wanted the divorce and has been trying to get me back ever since. He’s a relentless pest, but that’s all he is. He shows up at my house, at my work, calls and texts and sends gifts. But it’s all harmless. He’s not a threat.”

“Until he forced himself on you. Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not. It’s just…I know him. He wouldn’t hire someone to watch me.”

“What about Evan Phillips?”

“No way. He doesn’t have the money to throw around on shit like that. Besides, we’re together all the time. He lives right next door. There’s no reason for him to hire someone to watch me.”

“You’d be surprised what a desperate man would do. He has hundreds of photos of you on his personal computer.”

“What?” A chill zinged along her scalp. She didn’t know what bothered her more—his announcement or the fact that he had access to Evan’s computer. “Hundreds?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, okay. I mean, I know he takes pictures of me with his phone sometimes. I didn’t know he saved them. But he’s with a lot of women and probably has photos of them, too.”

“Nope. Just you.”

That’s fucked up.

But was it really? Evan repeatedly pressed her to take their relationship further. Maybe he liked her more than she thought?

“Just because he has photos of me,” she said. “That doesn’t mean he hired Paul to watch me.”

He stared at her for an eternity, his face unfairly gorgeous. And blank. She would give anything to read his mind.

Growing antsy, she twisted her wrists in the handcuffs and pulled. He’d secured them correctly, ensuring she couldn’t escape and while keeping them loose enough not to cause discomfort. She could flip over but would have to sleep with her hands above her head.

Turning away, he grabbed a bottled water from the stash on the small desk and sat beside her hip.

“This is your childhood room,” she said. “You were in here when you started emailing Caroline.”

His jaw hardened as he lifted her head and helped her drink.

She knew he’d burned all the furniture and everything else that had once been in this house.

“I cried for you that day.” She drank another long gulp, draining the rest of the water. “The day you burnt your belongings. I know it was hard for you. But it was also cathartic.”

His neck stiffened, and he tossed the empty bottle in the direction of the desk.

“I want to know…” He leaned over her, his eyes ablaze with accusation. “How far did you let your ex-husband go before you told him no.”

“What?”

“You loved him enough to nearly kill yourself when he cheated.” He lowered his head, hovering his lips a hairbreadth away from hers. “When he put his mouth on you, did you open for him? Did you draw him in?”

Her mouth opened now on a shocked gasp. “No, I—”

His tongue swept in, lashing and licking at the stunned flesh of hers. She didn’t kiss him back, for this wasn’t a kiss at all. It was anger and violence. He grabbed her face and mauled her with his mouth, biting, sucking, and decimating her defenses.