Shame (Ruin 3)

“Ah, and here I thought I was being so subtle about my feelings toward you.”

A splash of rose bloomed in her cheeks then faded. She broke eye contact, worrying her lower lip before her gaze flashed back to me as though she couldn’t resist herself. Maybe it was male pride speaking, but that was my desire — for her to be so caught up in the moment, in this moment, that she forgot herself, forgot everything but my hands on her. A buzz of awareness burst through my veins.

“You’re beautiful,” I stated honestly, smoothly.

“Um, th-thank you.”

“I don’t believe in flirting or being coy.” I twirled her around twice then pulled her against my chest. “I believe in honesty and truth. When a woman smiles, and it takes your breath away, she damn-well better know it that instant. Otherwise, what’s the point in thinking it? The point in staring? I’d rather she be aware of her affect on me. It makes things fairer that way.”

“Fairer?” she croaked.

“For when I kiss her.” I twirled her small body again, and her dress swished against my legs. “It won’t be a surprise when my lips touch hers. It won’t come as a shock when my fingers graze her neck, now will it?”

Her chest heaved. “I’m trying to figure out if I like your honesty, or if it’s a bit terrifying.”

“Fear…” My lips grazed her ear. “…is a tool, not a weakness.”

She jerked away from me so fast I thought she was going to tumble on her rear.

“Wh-what did you say?”

“It’s a common phrase.” Her face, or what I could see of it, had gone completely pale. I narrowed my eyes and leaned in for a closer look. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just…” She removed her hands and self-consciously rubbed her arms. “Sorry. I’ve had a rough week.”

I reached for her hand and tugged her back to my body.

“What happened?”

“Sorry,” she repeated and laughed weakly. “I don’t make habits of confiding in complete strangers.”

“I graduated with honors from Harvard, double-majored in psychology and law, and have had background checks on at least ten individuals at this very party. Security is waiting in every corner of the room for someone to yell bomb or pull out a gun, and I own every single one of them. I’m safe. Now… let’s talk about that week.”

CHAPTER NINE

I asked her what she thought about death.

She shivered in my arms and said she didn’t like talking about it. Why discuss something so horrible when we were so young?

I laughed along with her and kissed her forehead, my heart twisting in my chest as the demons told me to hurt her when all I really wanted to do? Lie next to her, touch her, make her feel safe, even if it was from me. Even if it would always be from me. Something was happening between us, and I was powerless to stop it. How do you stop the wind? How do you quit the rain? You take shelter, but what if the shelter is the reason for your downfall in the first place? —The Journal of Taylor B.

Lisa

“SECURITY?” I WAS probably gawking. Who the heck was this guy? I mean, I knew Wes and Gabe took security at their events really seriously. But who else was hosting? I tried to think back to the invitation. Had a third name been engraved on it?

“You seem to be focusing awfully hard. Your week must have been hell.” His smooth voice drew my attention back to his face.

I wasn’t one of the girls, the ones who fawned over male beauty. I mean, I’d been in the modeling industry since I was twelve. I saw pretty on a daily basis, but he wasn’t pretty. He was so far beyond good-looking that I had to keep averting my eyes like a total middle-schooler.

Tall, muscular with beautiful thick hair that had twists of gold and copper, though it was messily arranged around his mask like he’d just gotten off a motorcycle and decided it was good enough. His hands were huge; they cupped my hips like they were made to fit my body. And his smile? Bright. Beautiful. Trusting. And, admittedly, I was a little frightened that my first instinct, my gut reaction, was to trust him, to follow him down the rabbit hole and ask for more and more until I was sated. I didn’t react to guys like that. His touch didn’t make me recoil, his smile didn’t leer, and he was honest about what he thought, saying exactly what he was thinking without hesitation. That type of confidence was sexy, and he wore it well.

In fact, he reminded me of the professor, though the professor was such a stiff I doubt he even knew what a masquerade was, let alone owned a suit as nice as the one this guy was wearing.

“So,” he prompted, his full lips curling into another devastating smile as his light eyes twinkled with amusement. “Tell me a secret.”

I froze.

I had nothing against secrets. But that had been a game Taylor and I had played… something intimate, something he’d used against me repeatedly in order to get me to do his bidding when he was angry or jealous.