Home > Until I Break(8)

Until I Break(8)
Author: M. Leighton

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” I manage to squeeze out quietly over the pounding of my heart.

“I’m not the warm and fuzzy type, Samantha. It’s not my intention to make you feel love. I don’t have that kind of emotion in me. But there are other things I can give you, other things I can make you feel. Really feel.” His eyes are hooded as he looks down at me. He takes one more step forward. This time, I don’t back up. “Excitement,” he says, reaching up to wind one long, red curl around his finger. When his eyes meet mine, I feel like he’s doing the same thing to me—winding me around his finger. “Anticipation. Desire. Warmth. I can make you feel very, very warm.”

As though his words alone can evoke the sensation, I feel hot blood rush to the surface of my skin and pool in the lowest part of my belly.

“You might even feel a little fear,” he continues softly. “But even that can be intoxicating in its own way.”

I’m mesmerized by his words, caught off guard by his honesty. I’m surprised and I’m a little afraid. But I’m also all in. I feel it in my bones, just like I feel that there will be some part of me that will live to regret it.

“But not tonight,” he says, moving away from me, giving me room to breathe as if he knew I had none. But even with more space between us, I’m still breathless. I have a feeling I will always be this way in his presence. The question is: How long can I survive without air? “Tonight is your one free pass. Just know that the next time you look at me this way, I’ll feel compelled to do something about it.” Alec walks to the door and opens it, sweeping his arm out in front of him, asking me casually, as if he didn’t just drop that little bomb on me, “Shall we, Samantha?”

That question is full of so much more than just the request to follow him to the door or to the fundraiser. He’s inviting me into his world, into the place he described. A place of excitement and anticipation, both of which I can already feel. And fear. And I can feel a little bit of that already, too.

I know I should hesitate longer over my response. But I don’t. Instead, on numb legs and with butterflies in my stomach, I walk toward him.

I stop in front of him. My eyes drift up to lock on his.

I say nothing. But I don’t really have to. I suppose my action speaks volumes. And Alec understands it. I know this when he leans forward just enough to whisper in my ear, “I hope that’s still your answer tomorrow.”

I don’t respond. I know he doesn’t expect it. I simply let him lead me from the room. Lead me on. Despite the risk, I can’t not go with him. I can’t not see, not feel, not try.

Mason bends the woman over his arm, his hand gliding up the glistening space between her br**sts. His long fingers splay across the width of her neck, the tips coming to rest along her jawline. Her chest rises and falls with her excitement as he nudges her head to one side, exposing her throbbing artery.

And then, as I watch through the small part in the curtains, he bares his sharp, deadly teeth.

Like Daire, I see the fangs. I feel the danger.

It’s just that neither makes a difference.

CHAPTER EIGHT - Alec

The place where the fundraiser is being held isn’t far from Samantha’s condo. I had already been invited to it, actually. I work with several big hospitals across Georgia and North Carolina. South Carolina as well. It’s not surprising that they’d invite me. Had I known someone like Samantha would be there, I would’ve made a point to go.

Or maybe I would’ve found a good reason to stay away, a better reason than just the fact that I should.

She’s quiet all the way there. I know what she’s thinking. She’s wondering why she agreed to a deal with the devil. She might be reconsidering. But she won’t change her mind. I’ve known a lot of women like her. She’ll see this through. Curiosity will get the best of her. And then, in the end, so will I.

I shouldn’t be looking forward to this. I should see it as a failure. It’s been a long time since I’ve given in to my…predilection.

In some ways, the guilt is a good thing. It means I’m still on the mend, that I’ve managed to put some things into perspective. But the fact that I’m doing it anyway means I’ve still got a long way to go.

Maybe after this one time, maybe after I get it out of my system, I can make some more forward progress.

Maybe.

CHAPTER NINE - Samantha

The valet pulls away from the curb in Alec’s sleek, black Range Rover, leaving us standing alone on the sidewalk. We arrived in plenty of time. This event doesn’t officially start until eight. But most people come early to mingle. No doubt the inside is packed.

My stomach twists into a knot when Alec offers me his arm. His eyes are drilling holes into mine. I wonder if he’s always so intense.

I reach out and curl my fingers around his bicep. It flexes beneath my touch, tightening and making me shiver.

He’s in wonderful physical condition, as I knew he would be. I’ve seen every inch of him in my head, only, up until now, I’ve called him Mason.

I’d be willing to bet that Alec is equally beautiful. Like déjà vu, I recall words written in the pages of a book. My book. Only now Mason seems very, very real.

Mason’s smooth bronze skin gleams in the low light. Through the clear glass of the shower door, I can see the perfectly formed muscles in his arms move and shift as he drags the soap over his chest. I’m the maid. I shouldn’t be watching him this way, but I can’t seem to help myself. I can’t seem to make my feet carry me away from the door.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him in the shower. Or lying naked in the bed. Or worshipping a nameless, faceless woman’s body with his lips and his hands and his body. More than ever, I want to be the one beneath him. But more than ever, I know he would leave nothing but wreckage in his wake. He’s too much for a girl like me.

Still yet, if he ever turned those knowing green eyes on me in invitation, I know what my answer would be.

Once again, I’m forced to remind myself that this isn’t Mason, that Mason isn’t real. And that’s probably a good thing. Mason breaks hearts. He can’t help himself. It’s what broken people do.

I feel short of breath and lightheaded as we walk through the doors into the elaborate foyer of the ballroom. My step falters and I squeeze Alec’s arm to keep my balance. He looks down at me, at first in question, but then his expression changes.

   
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