The Arrangement 12(21)
“Do it later.”
He’s typing, not looking at me. “But I want to do you later.”
“So, you’re boycotting sleep, now?” I push up on my elbow, and the sheet falls away revealing my breasts.
Sean glances at me and then sighs, before walking over to the bed and sitting next to me. He traces the pad of his finger along my breast, tracing the slope to the nipple. He smiles like he shouldn’t and pulls up the blankets, before leaning back against the headboard. Sean strokes the hair away from my face, gently repeating the movement over and over again.
He looks out the window and then down at me. “I’ve never slept much, my love.” He smiles sadly and kisses my forehead. “It’s all right. You rest. I have plans for later.”
I don’t argue, mainly because his touch has put me in a coma. As my eyelids flutter, he smiles at me. I feel happy even though the day was horrendous, because I can see the affection in his eyes. Sean isn’t hiding from me at the moment, and I hope he trusts me enough to stay that way.
CHAPTER 18
By the time I wake up, it’s nightfall. Sean is standing in front of the huge glass window, fully dressed in tight jeans and a black sweater with those shitkicker boots, and his hands held behind his back. I watch him from my pillow, wondering what he’s thinking about. Before I can move, he turns and looks at me. God, his face is beautiful. I smile at him, still groggy from sleep.
“Hey,” I say, feeling a little ashamed of what we did, now that I can think more clearly. I pull the sheets with me as I sit up and pull my knees into my chest. My body is sore, but in a good way. The thought makes me think of Sean behind me, pushing into me, and the fact that I pushed back.
Sean speaks before the burn of embarrassment spreads across my cheeks. “Don’t belittle yourself for what you enjoy.” He stands in front of the glass with the inky sky and a spattering of stars behind him. Moonlight fills the window, giving Sean a faint halo. He always sounds so composed, so certain of who he is and what he wants.
I’m not like that. I haven’t had the luxury to experiment and live the life that I’d wanted, but things shifted somewhere and now I’m here with this man. I’m too nervous to look at him, but I force my gaze up anyway. “How’d you react after you did something you thought you’d never do? Especially when you realized that you liked it?”
Sean slips his hands into his pockets and studies me. “How many lines did we cross, Avery?”
I smile weakly at him and wonder if he’s going to dodge my question. “Several. I had a picture in my head of the way things would be, and this wasn’t it. It’s more savage and I’m shocked at myself, and maybe a little disturbed. What does it mean that I like to be tied up even though it scares the hell out of me? What does it mean that I like to scratch and bite you so hard that you bleed? Sean…” I shake my head. I don’t want to continue the thought because I don’t like the dark places it’s leading.
Sean looks out the window again and then takes a steadying breath. “Things for me were probably the way you pictured your future. I had my wife, we were together in civilized ways, and then she was gone. It felt—” His voice becomes so tense that his words are choked off. Sean glances at me from under those dark lashes. “I crossed so many lines that there was no way back after that. An honest man doesn’t use hookers. A good man doesn’t overpower them and force them to his whims. I did. I learned how to pinpoint their fears and feed them so they were terrified of me.” He’s breathing hard, watching me, and I know he’s thinking about something specific. The way his eyes travel over my body tells me that he never finished what he wanted to do with me.
My heart pounds harder and I no longer feel ashamed, but he’s right. Once the line is crossed, there’s no going back. I know what I like and even if I don’t want to admit it to myself, I know I want him to do things to me—things that frighten me. “You’re not done with me, like that, are you?”
He holds my gaze and shakes his head. “I want to be done with it, but it’s still there. I still picture doing things to you.” He tears his eyes away and looks back out the window. His lungs fill with air and it makes his body swell. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He whirls around and gives me a quizzical look. I shrug and say awkwardly, “I kind of like it.” I’m afraid of what he’ll think of me, because I hate this. It’s not normal to want to be used and taken that way, but I do—if Sean is the one doing the taking.