Don't Tell (Don't 1)
I chuckled. “It doesn’t get any more American than that.”
Her long lashes lowered a second time. The gesture did something to me. I raised her chin until she lifted her eyes to mine. Her gaze cut right through me. I knew now why they called her Sapphire.
“Tell me. Are you scared of me Molly Washington?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“And why not?” My hand circled over the creaminess of her skin, my fingers pressing into the softness of the back of her neck.
Her chest rose, sending her breasts forward. God, they were unbelievable. Ripe and soft. My eyes trailed upward again, making heated eye contact.
We drove farther up the hillside. The lights of Freychon blanketed the ground below us.
The shield between our seat and where Georgan sat was sealed. My mouth grew hungry for her. Her eyes darted back and forth.
“Because you’re the king,” she whispered. “You’re not scary.”
I pressed my lips in a straight line. “And tonight? Why did you sign up for something like this? The Titan?”
I ran my fingertips to the top of her spine, making my own road map to her shoulder. The back of my fingers slid along her arm.
“My friend thought it was an urban legend,” she explained. “And when we were approached it seemed like something we couldn’t turn down.”
“And do you still feel that way?” I asked. “Like you can’t turn it down?”
“I signed the contract.”
“That’s not what I asked.” My voice was cool and dark. “Do you want to be here, Molly Washington?”
We turned into the back of the compound. The palace gates folded open.
I looked at her.
“It’s one night. Your night. To be with the king. It won’t happen again. The Titan does not seek return tallies. So you must decide, here and now what you want. Georgan will drive you home. Or you can walk inside the palace with me.” I pointed to the top floor where a row of lights illuminated a set of windows. “See that block of rooms?”
“Yes.”
“Those are the kings rooms. My rooms. That’s where I plan to take you to bed.”
I heard her inhale quickly.
The car slowed as we entered the tunnel to the private entrance.
“What is your decision. Are you going home, or do you want one night with the king?”
6
Molly
I had never known the silence inside a car could be so deafening. My ears rang. My heart pounded irregularly. I could practically hear the blood rush between my ears.
This morning I was working on my dissertation. I used notecards to sort the broader topics. They were scattered on the floor. I wore pajama pants and a tank top. My hair was twirled in a bun with a pencil crammed in the middle to hold the heaviest pieces in place.
Brooklyn walked in, carrying a carton of lo mein noodles. “You have destroyed our living room.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I’ll clean it up after I get the rest of this nailed down.”
“Let’s go get coffee,” she suggested.