“Dinner. I will meet you in the lobby bar at seven. Don’t be late this time.”
Gabriel pats my shoulder and leaves. My mind is a jumbled mess of thoughts, which is exactly why I don’t allow myself to have emotions. They’re too messy, too complicated, bring too many painful memories. Only, with Britt, it doesn’t feel messy or complicated, or painful. It feels…right.
The fact I feel anything should let me know I’m headed in the wrong direction, headed down a path of darkness, destruction, and failure. A path that will dig out memories so painful I’ve created an entire persona to avoid dealing with them. Yet I know—I’m going down that path headfirst, no questions asked, no matter the outcome.
I might be a monster, but I’m a selfish one.
Britt
It’s Thursday night. My hands tremble as I lay down the hair straightener and smooth the last few flyaways. I step back from the sink in the cramped hotel bathroom. The bright red Herve Leger bandage dress is short, tight, and leaves a sinful amount of skin bare.
I exhale, placing my hands on my churning stomach. You can do this, Britt. My little pep talk does nothing for my nerves. Neither does the risqué dress I spontaneously purchased in the hotel’s upscale boutique to show K I’m far from the innocent girl he sees when he looks at me. I’ll be paying it off for the next year, but it will be worth it if it keeps K coming back for more.
After fleeing K’s room earlier, I sat on my bed and reflected on his words.
“I’m not a good person, Britt. Things I’ve done.”
I don’t get it. I fail to see anything bad about him. Yeah, he’s intimidating as hell and very unapproachable. But bad?
“I can’t…I won’t ruin you.”
How could he ruin me?
I just can’t reconcile the horrible person K believes himself to be with the man who held me on the floor of Gabriel’s office until I stopped shaking. My only regret is K seeing me vulnerable that day. If he thinks I’m broken or weak, he won’t touch me or offer a repeat of the fantastic, life-changing sex we had. Sex that lights up my body and silences my mind.
No. I don’t believe he’s bad.
He’s a good person. Despite what he says, I feel it. I know it. And tonight I’m going to make him see I can take whatever he wants to give. I’ve thought about the sex I had with K a lot. More than I should. I’ve been flailing for so long, and after being with K just the one time, it’s all become so clear so fast. I need a strong man to give me pain and depravity to feel alive and displays of strength to feel safe. Weak, innocent Britt is saying goodbye and sick, twisted Britt is going after what she wants.
I slip on my four-inch designer heels and pose in front of the floor-length mirror on the back of the closet doors. Vampy red lipstick slicks my lips and a layer of concealer hides the bruise on my jaw. When I pull one corner of my mouth into a slutty smirk, I feel ridiculous. Whatever.. I huff and snatch up my clutch, stuff my keycard inside and decide to let the proverbial chips fall where they may.
This dress is either going to blow K’s mind, or send him running. Somehow, I don’t foresee this night ending any way except with me wrapped around his sinful body, my skin humming with the satisfied sting from his hands.
Time to find out.
* * *
I show my badge to the slack-jawed man in a tuxedo at the door to the ballroom. Grinning, I give him a wink. “Thanks.”
His reaction tells me the dress isn’t a complete waste of money and will hopefully serve its purpose. Right inside the door, a lovely woman in a forest green gown greets me. “Name?”
“Britt Reeves.”
She scans her clipboard, her eyes lighting up when she finds my name on the list. “Here you go, dear.” The woman hands me a tiny card. “Table five. They’re numbered but it’s in the center.” She points me in the correct direction.
“Thank you.”
The ballroom is three-quarters full already. I wasted a good twenty minutes freaking out before leaving my room, so I know I’m a tiny bit late. At least my phone isn’t blowing up. I’m surprised Gabriel didn’t send a text wondering where I am.
“Britt?”
I startle and spin around to come face to face with Jackson Wolfe. “Jack?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice. I’m used to seeing him in fight gear, shorts, sweats, stuff like that. Tonight, he’s wearing a dark, custom-fitted suit with a bright blue and black tie to match his fight colors.
“Holy fuck, Britt!” My cheeks flame up as Jack gapes, blatantly scanning up and down my body. “Christ, I knew you were hot, but hell.” He continues his visual assault, not once looking up at my face.
“Jesus, Jack. Do you think you could at least pretend I have a head attached and look up here while you speak to me?” Irritated and embarrassed, I cross my arms over my chest and scowl.