“All I want is an answer. Some kind of excuse so I can quit thinking about it. You’ve taken up way too much space in my head for years, and I’m over it. I need to move on with my life.” I look up at him. “I need closure.”
His mouth set into a thin line, Cav leans forward over the table, pitching his words low so only I can hear them. “You don’t need closure because we’re not fucking finished, Greer. We’re just getting started. Someday I’ll give you what you’re asking for, but today is not that day. If you’re not okay with that, then we’re gonna have to find a way to get you okay with it.”
Again, delightfully vague, but this time with a hint of a threat.
“Get me okay with it? What does that even mean?” The twisting sensation in my belly fades as hunger takes its place. I reach for a chip and scoop up some ceviche.
An ominous smile pulls at his lips. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t put two coherent thoughts together, and then I’ll take you to the edge over and over, stopping when you’re about to come until you’re begging me to finally let you. You’ll offer me anything I want if I’ll just let you have your orgasm.” He toys with the neck of his empty beer bottle. “You’re a greedy girl when it comes to orgasms, and I’m going to tease you until you think you’re going to break.”
Heat pools between my thighs, even though part of me wants to toss my water bottle at him. The lack of panties has me intimately aware of the effect of his words.
How can I want him so badly when I still don’t trust him? There’s nothing stopping Cav from disappearing again. Well, not disappearing completely like he did before, but disappearing from my life.
And if he does? Then what?
I move on once and for all. Fear of losing him slides away because if he walks out like he did before, I’m secure enough in who I am to know that he’s not worth wasting my time on. For three years he’s been the one who got away, and I was left with too many questions and no answers. But if he leaves again, I’m good. Or at least I will be once I clean up the shards of my shattered heart.
Shattered heart? No, my heart isn’t involved in this game. It’s sidelined because it can’t be objective here. This isn’t love; this is lust and closure for the past. I hate lying to myself, but sometimes it’s a necessary evil to maintain my sanity and composure.
“And after that?” I ask, a hint of challenge in my voice. “When you can’t keep me drunk with pleasure? Am I going to get answers then?”
Cav meets my gaze with his own challenge. “If I think you can handle them.”
I reach for my margarita and raise it again in a cheerful salute. “Then let the fucking and orgasm denial begin because I’m not all right with this.”
Well, that didn’t go as planned. I carry a completely hammered Greer from the golf cart through the front door of the house. I didn’t expect the first time I carried her over a threshold to be quite like this.
She’s nearly incoherent and keeps slipping in and out of consciousness. Trying to keep hold of her during the bumpy golf cart ride is an experience I’d like to avoid in the future. Guilt eats at me because I know I’m the reason for her slamming back three more mango margaritas.
“Greer, we need to get you ready for bed.”
“Don’t care. Wanna sleep.” Her words slur and she sounds so damn young.
Laying her on the bed, I strip off her shirt and pull the skirt down her legs. Her statement earlier about not wearing panties flashes through my brain, along with all the dirty things I want to do to this woman. Things I’ve wanted to do for years.
But we both know I fucked that up royally tonight. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her everything, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch the sparkle fade from her eyes as she comprehended the truth.
I tuck her into bed and she curls onto her side, facing the windows where the sun will rise so brilliantly in the morning.
Another day with her, and nothing beyond that is guaranteed. I grab her clothes off the floor and lay them on the dresser before venturing into the walk-in closet to find my phone.
Messages from my agent, a director I’ve been wanting to work with, and . . . Creighton Karas. I knew it wouldn’t take him long to track me down. I’ve got his little sister in my care, and he strikes me as a man who’d kill to protect her.
Well, that makes both of us.
I ignore the messages and shove my phone back into the spot between a pile of men’s swim trunks and T-shirts.
I’ll protect Greer against any threat that comes her way, but how the hell do I protect her from myself? I’d like to say I’m a good man, but I’ve never been able to make that claim. For Greer’s sake, I wish I could.
How selfish am I going to be? Can I really take what I want without a thought about the cost? That’s what I’ve been doing so far. And that’s exactly what I did when I stepped on that jet in LA after Peyton DeLong crowed over the ad.
More than anyone, I know that thoughtless actions have consequences that can cause immeasurable pain. Pain I don’t want to cause the woman sleeping only feet from me.