Desire Me

I already know the answer. Kiln told me. Though Sloane flinches, he nods.

“Because you couldn’t save her? Your sister?” I think of the girl who gave him the acoustic guitar and suspicion wells in me. “She’s the one, right? The one who gave you the guitar?”

“Yes. Steffie.”

On my knees, I nuzzle his neck until he gives in and pulls me onto his lap.

“She drowned…” His voice trails off and he tenses, as if there’s more.

“You were there?”

“Yes.”

“She wouldn’t want you to spend your life so eaten up with guilt.”

“You didn’t know her.”

“So she’s that selfish?” Another thought occurs to me. “Had she lived, would you even give a fuck about me?”

“I don’t know. Had she lived, who knows how my life would’ve turned out.”

“Is it so bad? Despite how much information is inaccurate, you still live an elite life. One that many people would kill to have.”

No response.

“Sloane, there’s something I have to tell you.” I really haven’t considered Kiln’s revelations beyond the conversation I had with him. Things moved at a frantic pace, so I couldn’t slow down enough to begin to muddle through the words, our sister. “I know you and Kiln are brothers.”

“I know. I was standing in the doorway when he told you his bullshit.”

“Not quite a revelation, huh? He just dropped the supposed reasons for why you were looking over me and let the implication hang in the air.”

“He’s a fucking asshole like that,” Sloane grumbles.

“He loves you.”

“We detest each other,” he counters. “And, one other thing, Jaeger is his brother, too.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re being an asshole now. Obviously, you’re all related.”

“More’s the fucking pity.”

“Sloane—“

“This is it, Georgie. As much as I’m willing to share with you.”

He’s going to send me on my way. It’s odd how I can feel his emotional withdrawal in a physical way, even though I’m still on his lap and in his arms. “One more thing. Please?” I ask in a small voice. While he’s talking, I just need to know once and for all.

“Georgiana—“

“Did you spend time with me because Mom and Dad asked you to do it? Because of…of Steffie? Just tell me that.”

I’ve hit a nerve. His pulse increases and he sucks in a breath, but, then, he kisses my forehead. "Cassandra and Parnell have never influenced me one way or the other where you’re concerned.”

Is it only my imagination or has he stiffened even more when he says my mother’s name?

“Neither of them had absolutely anything to do with my decision to see you. That should be fucking obvious. Do you really think they would hire me so you can suck my dick and I can eat your pussy?”

“You never know with them,” I mutter before I catch myself. Ignoring my need for him to use his mouth on me again, I gasp. “I’m sorry. My parents have issues, but they aren’t bad.”

“Save it,” he snaps. “You almost killed yourself because of what your mother did.”

“Grandma shouldn’t have told you—“

“Helen did what she thought was necessary for me to agree—“

“So you didn’t want me either?” The question sounds so pathetic, but I can’t help it.

He tightens his hold on me. “You’re here because I want you. I’m your friend. And friends help one another. I’m here with you because this is where you want to be.”

I think of the condoms. “Please don’t bring other girls here, Sloane. I can’t…I know…I know when you go back on tour…” I can’t finish my sentence. He’s going to be with other girls then and I’ll have to accept it. Somehow. I scramble to my feet. “Don’t have other women here.”

Anger rises in his eyes and the muscle in his jaw ticks. Immediately, I know the wall that was between us earlier is firmly back in place. He plops me next to him. Instead of answering, he stalks to the door I didn’t realize he’d closed and holds it open. “Get out.”

“Sloane—“

“Get the fuck out. Now, Georgiana. Go to your goddamn room and stay there until I summon you.”

Sucking in a breath, my entire body deflates as if a pin has been stuck into me. A new defeat burrows into me. As soon as I reach my room, I’m going to cry. Even now, my lips tremble.

“Fuck.” Sloane slams a fist against the door. The solid wood doesn’t crack. I wince at the pain he’ll feel, later rather than now.

I rush past him but a hand on my shoulder halts me right outside his door.

“No women for me for the duration of our time here, Georgie,” he relents, ice dripping from his voice. He pushes me away and slams his door shut.

A small smile breaks free, though I sniffle. This victory was hard won, but so very sweet.



Sloane

Elle Boon, C.C. Cartwright, Catherine Coles, Mia Epsilon, Samantha Holt, J.W. Hunter, Allyson Lindt, Kathryn Kelly, Tracey Smith's books