Born, Darkly (Darkly, Madly 1)

“Pain.”

I pause. “You’re associating every word with me.”

He cranes an eyebrow. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“No. Not if it’s your natural response. Our goal is for you to transfer your emotions and desires onto me. It’s called transference. Unless you’re purposely selecting words to which you think make me uncomfortable…”

“You asked for honesty. Don’t doubt that I’m giving you anything less.”

I press my lips together. “Okay. Money.”

“Career.”

“Hunger.”

“Ravenous.”

I cross my legs, noting the way his gaze follows my action. “Wrong.”

“Right.”

“Death.”

“Penalty.”

“Love.”

“Sickness.”

“Woman.”

He pauses here. “You.”

“Sex.”

His nostrils flare. “Fuck.”

“Sin.”

“Salvation.”

“Happiness.”

He lunges forward. I don’t have time to react. I’m paralyzed, awaiting what happens next. He doesn’t touch me, but he’s close—close enough for me to smell his aftershave. “There’s no such thing,” he says. “Stop asking the questions of a psychologist and get your answers.”

I hold my place, not backing down. I’m trembling, but it’s not out of fear. Every molecule in my body is fighting to get closer.

Touch him.

I release the breath I’ve been holding, and Grayson’s sharp intake, as if he’s stealing it for himself, sparks a primal thrill within me.

“An answer for an answer,” I finally say.

This pulls a smile from him. “Okay.” He settles back into his chair without having touched me. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed. Both reactions are disconcerting.

I fold my hands together, gathering my bearings. “Where are you from?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Delaware.”