"What am I doing to you, exactly?" I asked, my voice light.
"You're killing me, bright eyes," he said, kissing the side of my neck. "I can't stop thinking about you. Or fucking you. Or thinking about fucking you."
I didn't respond. I wanted to be honest, to tell him that I felt the same way.
I was torn between my instinct to run away and my desire to stay.
Silas picked me up again. "Hang on," he said. "I'm taking you back to the bedroom. Where you belong."
I laughed, but kept my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, only stepping down when he reached the bedroom.
"Standing up?" he asked. "I was going to put you right into bed."
"Oh yeah?" I said. "You think you've got that much stamina, old man? You were just whining about how I wore you out."
Silas reached for my ass and I dodged his hand, jumping onto the soft mattress and landing with a bounce. He scrambled up onto the bed after me, pulling me onto my side facing him.
"I might need a minute to catch my breath, Tempest," he said. "But there's no chance in hell that you're going to wear me out."
I trailed my hand over his chest, my eyes taking in every inch of him, trying to memorize every ripple of his muscles, the tattoos that covered his skin. I was sure that, like mine, each picture had a story, and it made me think about how much of his life I'd missed.
How many stories he had that didn't include me.
"You know if I stayed, I'd wear you out," I said.
I wasn't talking about sex, and we both knew it.
Silas caught my wrist, holding it still. "Look at me," he said.
"Silas," I warned. But I looked in his eyes, despite my heart's rapid flutter, the fear that pumped through my veins.
The fear of being known.
"You think you've changed, Tempest," he said. "Or that the fact that what happened with your parents means that nothing is the same between us."
"Silas, you and I both know that you finding out who I was - that my parents and I were liars-changed everything."
"That's bullshit," he said. "You felt what I did in Vegas. The same heat that was there in Vegas is between us now."
"It's chemistry, Silas," I said. "That's all it is."
Silas narrowed his eyes and looked at me for a long time. I feared I had hurt him with my words and wanted to take them back.
I had to convince myself it was just chemistry between us and nothing more. What else could there be?
"That's all you think this is?" Silas asked, clenching his jaw. "No bullshit, Tempest. For once, be honest with me. Do you truly think that's all there is between us? Good sex and nothing more?"
"This isn't a damn fairytale, Silas," I said. "I'm a con artist. My parents are con artists. There are no happy endings for people like me. This isn't a movie. There's no riding off into the sunset."
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he said, letting go of my wrist and sliding his hand around my waist, to rest on the small of my back. "I think you're lying to yourself right now, Tempest."
I suddenly felt claustrophobic, like I couldn't breathe. I put my palm to his chest and pushed him away. I wanted to run.
"Some kids play soccer and take ballet lessons," I said. "I grew up learning how to pickpocket and count cards. I lie. I cheat people. I steal from them."
"You know how to count cards?" Silas asked, the corners of his mouth turning up. "That's kind of awesome."
I slapped his chest. "I'm not fucking joking, Silas."
"Neither am I," he said. "You're not your parents. I don't believe you're someone terrible."
"Then you're naive," I said.
I didn't know why I was pushing him away, why I wanted him to think I was someone awful. I didn't think I was someone awful. I was conning bad guys - I believed in what I was doing.
The prospect of letting him in just felt so damn terrifying. I'd worn so many masks, so many identities, for so long that I didn’t know if I could let anyone see me.
Silas shook his head. "You think you can hide from me, but I damn well know who you are, Tempest. I've seen you all along."
"The grifter part of me is who I am," I said. "There's nothing more. That's all there is to it."
Silas looked at me long and hard. "You were conning Coker in Vegas, weren't you?" he asked.
28
Silas
"Of course I was," she said. "But I know you already realized that. You knew I wasn't some television producer."
"I knew you weren't a TV exec, but I didn't know what exactly your angle was," I said. That much was true. Once Deborah returned the money I'd won in the fight, though, I started really wondering what Tempest was doing with Coker in Vegas.
Tempest shrugged. "You got me," she said. "I conned Coker. So? You already know I'm a grifter. It's no big surprise."
Why the hell was she being so stubborn about this? It's almost as if she wanted me to hate her.
Part of me wished I could hate her.
"You're the one who gave the money to Johnny and Deborah," I said.