Treachery

Luca

Ta

Although I assume this game is intended for the sheer purpose of finally getting back at me for not falling like every other woman in his path, his behavior since I’ve arrived forces me to reconsider.

If it’s about sex alone, if it’s for the satisfaction of finally having twisted my arm to become another lovesick notch on his bedpost, why is he forcing me to sit through di

So he can gloat? So he can settle back and enjoy watching me choke down whatever meal he chose, while he anticipates the moment he’ll bend me over the table?

I want to rake my fingernails down his face and gouge out his eyes, but at the same time - and what I think has pissed me off the most since daring to step foot anywhere near him - he isn’t wrong about one staggering observation he made.

My sex life since marrying Clayton and becoming trapped as his blushing bride had been anything but satisfying. Nonexistent, really. Three years of celibacy because my husband couldn’t be bothered to touch me. And from what I know from the one time I’d made the mistake of sleeping with Ta

Just to look at him is to feel a deep-seated need, but to actually feel all the power of his gorgeous body writhing between your thighs, it’s enough to ruin you for other men, to make you addicted to what his attentions can provide.

Half of my decision to avoid him had been my refusal to be just another woman warming his bed for another night. The other half had been my fear that I would be left another drooling addict dreaming of just one more chance to feel the strength of him against me as he buried himself inside.

I didn’t want to be another Ta

If it hadn’t been for Everly’s relationship with Jase, I wouldn’t have known Ta

I left Yale and never looked back.

I also made the mistake of getting married. I stopped caring for a period of time. My desire for a career of my own on pause until I could deal with what happened to my parents and hopefully get my cheating husband in line. I had no intention of seeing Ta

Yet now I’m walking through his living room, hating that he holds my life in his hands and is treating it like a joke for his amusement.

His home is astonishing in its beauty. Somehow, the man has managed to blend the rustic quality of dark woods, natural stone floors and exposed ceiling beams together with a modern touch of granite counters, large, two level beveled windows, and polished iron railings for the second and third floors.

A fireplace holds court in the center of his living room that is twice my height, at least, the dark leather couches with steel rivet details drawing my eyes as I pass them.

A wet bar takes up an entire wall, pendant lights hanging down from the tall ceiling fixtures with Edison bulbs glowing amber against rows of liquor bottles.

I highly doubt Ta

And if the living room hasn’t been enough of a stu

“Please tell me you don’t waste all of this on the same type of ridiculous parties you used to throw at Yale.”

I stop in place, my head slowly spi

Beneath my feet are black marble floors with silver flecks that catch the flicker of fire sconces set into the walls.

Stepping up behind me, Ta

Lips close to my ear, he answers, “Some of us have grown up enough to have more civilized get-togethers.”

“Some of you?” It’s ridiculous how breathless I sound.

His tone carries the hint of a

“Sawyer, Jase and Damon have yet to act their age.”

Shaking my head in bemused disbelief, I step forward to place distance between us. He closes that distance as if he owns every bit of space around me.

His heat is a furnace against me, his scent beguiling, his presence dark and divine.

“Why am I not surprised to hear that?”

The expression on his face doesn’t change. Shadows mixed with lightning, eyes that see everything while revealing nothing of the man to whom they belong.

“Have a seat. I’ll grab the food.”

The wall of heat disperses as he steps away, and although I should keep my eyes trained to the table setting in front of me, I can’t help but watch his fluid stride through the dining room toward a door on our right, can’t help noting the almost feline, predatory prowl of a man who is treacherous enough to turn any person’s world upside down for the sheer amusement of doing so.

Some monsters are frightening because they kill and maim without remorse. Some are scary because they get in your head and make you doubt everything you believe you know about the world around you.

Ta

He leaves you alive to witness the chaos. He leaves you drowning while he storms off, satisfied that there isn’t so much as a shred of what you once had left for you to cling onto.

Maybe monster is the wrong word.

It’s too simple.

Too ordinary.

Other men are monsters.

Lesser men are monsters.

Not Ta

Ta

He frightens me now even more than he had at Yale. I try to lie to myself and swear the fear has everything to do with the money I will lose.

But there’s something else, something deeper, something shadowed and burning with fierce carnal desire that lingers like a fog within my core.

Memories collide with the present, the aching I feel every time Ta

Because it hadn’t been easy to avoid him so many years ago.

It had been a fight, a war, a bloody battle occurring inside me that ended with my having retreated into the arms of another man I’d considered safe.

And how had that turned out?

Shitty.

I’m still standing in place when Ta

“Would you prefer to stand there while I sit and throw food to you like a dog?”