Untouchable (Untouchables, 1)

“Tell me something,” I begin, holding his gaze. “What is it you want from me? You can be honest,” I add, quickly. “I’d much prefer your honesty, even if it’s… something unusual.”

Smirking faintly at how carefully I worded that, he says, “I don’t know if I want anything all that unusual. I want you. Simple, right?”

Instead of giving me time to answer, he restrains me a little more and bends his head, kissing his way up and down my neck again. Even held down and a little afraid, that feels good, so I close my eyes and soak it up.

My chest seems to tighten as I struggle to draw in enough air. It’s not so much the physical weight of Carter crushing me that’s the problem, it’s the knowledge of how helpless I really am beneath him. He can make all the promises in the world, but he could decide not to honor them and make good on his initial threat right here, right now. I was even safer at the party than I am now. Right now, there is literally no one around to hear me scream.

That rational fear pierces the pleasurable sensation of his mouth traveling up and down my neck. I gasp like I’m coming up for air, and try to yank my wrists free.

I hear and dislike the trace of panic in my own voice as I tell him, “Carter, stop. I need to go. I need to go home.”

Running his lips along my jaw, he murmurs, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” I add, pulling at my wrists, but he won’t release me.

He smiles, then kisses me briefly on the lips. “No. But I appreciate you asking so nicely.”

“Tell me somethin’ else,” I say, grasping for some kind of control over at least some part of this situation.

“What do you wanna know?” he asks.

“Did last night mean anything to you? I mean, you want to do it again, right?”

“I do,” he verifies with a single nod, watching me to see where I’m going with this.

“So, I think you’re right. I need to be able to trust you. That’s the only way we’ll ever get to a place where… where maybe I could see that happening again. I did some research—obviously informal research, and I don’t have the proper educational background to wrap my head all the way around this. Or even all the information about you. I’m winging it, but I’m trying to figure out how to handle you. I’m trying, but I don’t have all the information.”

His voice lightens with amusement. “How to handle me?”

“You’re not like other guys,” I state, meeting his gaze. “Surely you realize that.”

His amusement dissipates and he watches me curiously. “And you’re not like other girls,” he states.

Lifting my eyebrows and looking pointedly at my arms pinned against his couch, I say, “That’s a given, or we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“True. You’d probably be buried in a shallow grave somewhere.”

The amusement in his voice is so wrong. I shake my head. “No. It’s not funny to joke about murdering women. Can we not? I can’t be completely sure you’re joking, and I’d like to tackle one monstrous thing at a time.”

“All right.” He bends to kiss one of the wrists he has pinned down. Not just once, he lavishes the sensitive skin of my wrist with his mouth’s attention. I struggle to stay focused, surprised at how good it feels. How sensual it is to have his lips running so tenderly over the area he’s been restraining.

Focusing is harder when he does that, but I try anyway. This feels important, and I hate to hope I’m actually connecting with him, but I might as well try.

“I think the first thing I need to know is, what part of this appeals to you?”

He stops kissing my wrist and looks at me skeptically. “Which part of sex appeals to me?”

“No. Um…” I don’t know exactly how to refer to it, so I tilt my head toward the wrist he still has restrained. “The force. I mean, do you really want to hurt me? Is it a power thing? A control thing? What makes it feel good to you?”

“Does it matter?”

Evasion, already. “Carter, I’m tryin’ to understand you,” I state, mild frustration entering my tone. “Even after everything, I am trying. If you want me to trust you, give me a reason to.”

“I don’t have to, though, do I?” he asks, letting his hand slide down between my legs. I’m wearing jeans today, so when he cups me this time, it’s through two layers of fabric. “If I want to, I can take this right now.”

Ignoring the sinking in my stomach, I hold his gaze. “You could. But it would only happen once. I would never let you get me alone again. Is that what you want? Is this a conquest thing? You said once you could fuck me and get me out of your system. Is that all this is to you? Some kind of drive to take my virginity, then you’ll be done with me?”