Captivated (Deep in Your Veins 6)

“This isn’t easy for me either, you know,” I said, though I didn’t dare admit exactly how difficult it was. “But I’m not being a bitch and making you pay for that, am I? No. Because we both knew what this was, and what it wasn’t. So there’s no need to be a dick, Max. Besides, you’re the one with all the rules and boundaries.” Oh shit, my voice broke.

His face softened. “Come here.”

I went rigid. “No.”

The bastard pulled me into his arms anyway and held me tight. “Hug me back.”

“No.” Because if we crossed any kind of line now after the seventy-two hours were up—if we hugged, kissed, acted as anything other than colleagues—it would probably happen again. Maybe only at sporadic moments when we were both feeling a little weak, but it would happen. It was better to just make a clean break here and now; to underline that our time was up and just move forward.

I pushed out of his arms and straightened my shoulders. “Bye,” I said, the word unintentionally soft. I shrugged past him and walked through the apartment, hating the way my chest twisted and tightened.

“Paige,” he called out as I put my hand on the doorknob.

I stiffened but didn’t turn to face him. I just glanced over my shoulder. He stood a few feet away, his face again an impassive mask, his mouth open as if to speak. But he clamped his lips shut.

I forced a smile, but it was weak. “Like I said, you don’t have to say anything.” I left the apartment, softly closing the door behind me. The snick carried such a finality that it made my throat ache all the more.

Dammit, I would not cry.

But the backs of my eyes burned, and my nose began to sting like hell. Cursing inwardly, I hurried to my apartment at vampire speed. Inside, I slammed the door shut and let my head fall back, as if it might stop the tears from falling. My breath hitched, to my utter fucking horror and—

My instincts screamed at me, and I froze as every inch of my skin prickled.

I wasn’t alone.

Straightening my head, I pivoted to face my intruder.

Lenox grinned. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Hell.

(Max)

Clenching my fists, I swore long and loud as the front door closed behind Paige. I wanted to go after her. Wanted to call her back. Wanted to tell her … what? What could I possibly say?

I couldn’t ask her to stay, because I couldn’t give her a good reason to do so. She wouldn’t agree to prolong our arrangement. Wouldn’t agree to a full-on fling. Wouldn’t settle for anything less than a real relationship.

I didn’t balk at the idea of the latter the way I normally would, but I had no intention of offering her anything serious. Paige didn’t need to be saddled with my shit. When it came to flings, I could hold back, because it was just sex. In a relationship, I’d have to give it my all. I wasn’t sure I could. I trusted Paige, but I had no trust in happily ever afters, so I couldn’t honestly enter into a Binding with her.

I scrubbed a hand over my head. Fuck, watching her leave had been so much harder than I ever could have thought it would be. Why had I thought seventy-two hours would be enough? Or had I known it wouldn’t? Had I subconsciously pushed myself into a situation where I’d be so set on keeping her that I’d even try a relationship?

Surely it wasn’t the latter. Surely I wasn’t that fucking selfish when it came to her that I’d put my wants before what was best for her.

Of course I was. Or I never would have touched her. I never would have pushed her to feed from me out of some dark need to make sure she always carried a part of me.

Closing my eyes, I cursed myself to hell and back … because I knew myself well. Knew I wouldn’t manage to stay away from her. Knew I’d try seducing her at every given opportunity, try to make her consider letting a simple fling be enough.

It wouldn’t have to be a shallow fling. We wouldn’t need to put a time-limit on it. We could be exclusive. I’d agree not to feed from anyone other than her, if she wanted that. I’d certainly ask her not to feed from anyone but me. Surely I could convince her that Binding wasn’t the be all and end all.

She’d want someone who cared for her, true, but … well, I did. She was important to me. Had been for a long time. She mattered to me more than I was comfortable with, in all honesty. That would surely make a difference to her. It had to. Because she’d only been gone a few minutes, and already being apart from her wasn’t working for me at all.