I put my forearms on the countertop and study her emotionless face. “You’re terrified of spinning out of control. Maybe because it happened to you once before? When you lost your mom.”
Her mask hardens.
“Your dad left you at some school. You lost the two anchors that kept you grounded. I don’t fault you for needing to keep a firm grip on the people you allow in your life now.”
She startles when the toaster oven pings.
I give her my back in order to plate her sandwich, but mostly to give her the chance to recompose her dead stare. When I turn around she seems a little more relaxed. I slide the sandwich in front of her.
She doesn’t even look at it. “I see you’ve been talking to my dad.”
“He did most of the talking while warning me to stay away from you.”
A flicker of real emotion lights her eyes but only for a fraction of a second. “And yet, here we are.”
“That’s right.”
“You rebel against anyone who tries to control you. My dad, me… Why?” She tilts her head with her focus on my lips as she waits for my response. “It’s only fair you give me something. I didn’t get the chance to willingly share my story.” Her cheeks are pink and her mouth hard. “My dad had no right to tell you—”
“Yes,” I say and her gaze snaps to mine. “Most of my life was controlled by a drunk prick who dolled out punishment with his fists. I don’t like people telling me what to do. Matter of fact, the only person I allow to talk to me like that anymore is your dad on the field.”
A tiny grin tilts her lips. “And me.”
“You think so?”
She shrugs. “You didn’t seem to mind my control our first night together when I hunted you down and seduced you in a bar.”
“I didn’t understand you were controlling me then.” If I had known she was using me to upset her dad, would I have slept with her? Absolutely not. “But after that first taste of you, I needed more.”
A genuine smile pulls her lips. “You didn’t even put up a fight, Theodore.”
“Or maybe you’re much better at manipulating people than you think. Now eat your sandwich, I’ve got plans for you.”
She smiles into her first bite and a fissure slices through my quickly narrowing resistance to Emery Brawley.
Chapter Thirteen
Spider
“Take off your clothes.” With my ass planted poolside in the backyard, I watch Emery look between me and the unlit pool.
She crosses her arms at her chest. “If your goal is to get me naked, Theodore, I’d prefer a more seductive approach.”
“If I wanted to get you naked, Kitten, I’d have you stripped bare by now.”
“So this is it? You want to go swimming.”
“Take off your clothes and find out. You can leave on your bra and underwear. And if you’re worried about Rowan and Carey seeing you, trust me, once they get behind their bedroom door they don’t come out until morning.”
“I’m not worried about them seeing me,” she says with a challenge to her voice.
“Why does that not surprise me?”
She removes her sweater, laying it neatly over the back of a nearby chair, and her matching cashmere shirt follows. Her bra is a pale pink, no lace or frills. She kicks off her tennis shoes, socks, then slides her khaki’s down her pale legs and folds them neatly on the chair. Her panties are the same color as her bra but the conservative attire stops once she turns toward the pool. The full, round globes of her ass are deliciously bare in her subtly sexy g-string.
She steps onto the first step hesitantly. “Are you not coming in?”
“I will, but first I want to enjoy the view.”
“That’s not very gentlemanly.”
“And?”
A soft chuckle escapes her lips as she slowly submerges to her neck.
I stand, pull my t-shirt off and toss it aside followed by my boots and jeans.
She studies my inked body with a quiet appreciation. “Did they hurt?” The way her eyes slide over me feels like ghostly fingertips on my skin.
“A couple did.” I point to the colorful school of fish on my inner thigh. “This one, and…” I hold up my arm to the underside where a tiger is tattooed with his tail curling up into my armpit. “This part here.”
“Do they all mean something?”
“Most of them mean nothing,” I say as I enter the pool.
“Then why get them?”
“You seem to know me so well.” I close in on her, stopping a few teasing inches away. There’s something erotic about being nearly naked in the dark and wet with a beautiful woman and I feel myself hardening beneath the water. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Her chin tilts back to meet my eyes. “You’re punishing yourself.”
“For what?” I’m genuinely curious what she thinks, which is rare as fuck. I don’t usually give two-shits about what people think of me.
She takes a few steps back as if she’s worried how I’ll respond to her honesty. “For letting him win.”
Her words are a direct blow to the chest. My smile falls and I clench my fists under the water.
“Because he’s always with you, even though you hate him, you’ll never forget him. And you’re hoping with every new tattoo that you’ll one day look in the mirror and not see that scared little boy looking back at you. Maybe if you cover up enough, that little boy will disappear.”
When I don’t respond, she turns away from me, giving me her back. The predator in me lunges to give chase, to pounce while she’s unsuspecting. One thought gives me pause—Emery isn’t unsuspecting. She’s calculating, intentional. She dropped her unfiltered opinion like a bomb and purposefully made herself a target with hope I’d take the bait.
I sink back to the steps, lounge against them to give her the opposite of what she wants, all while marveling at the mindfuck that she is.
Emery inflicts the sweetest torture. She keeps my mind guessing
