Girl In Pieces (16 page)

It took me a second to decide he was making fun of me and not being serious. Or at least, not completely serious. Even though he didn’t bother looking at me, I made a face at his back.

“You’re kind of an asshole.”

Oliver snorted and looked over his shoulder at me. His eyes, this incredible shade of green and gold and brown, swept down my body, lingering at my belly and breasts before flicking lazily back up to my face.

“Your friend badly wants to get you laid.” He shrugged and turned to face me, sulking back against the bar. “Is that what you want? A good lashing in my playroom?”

“Not. Even. A little bit.”

He stared at me, hooded eyes all liquid sex and not an ounce of charm. He didn’t blink as he raised his glass to his lips. “Good girl.”

I flushed and uncrossed my arms, uncomfortable by the compliment. And even worse, quietly thrilled that my mouth didn’t betray me for once.

“I…I should go find Julie and Tyler.”

“No.” He didn’t blink. Didn’t move aside from speaking the one word. “Let them have fun. You and I have no interest in what’s going on out there.”

Shiver.
“We don’t?”

One eyebrow raised. “Not even a little bit.”

The way he looked at me, I felt like I was seconds away from being swallowed by a lion.

I crossed my arms again. “How do you know what I want?”

Oliver broke his stare and looked down into his half empty glass, eyes widening as if he was surprised to find it half gone and not liking it one bit. “Because you and I want to be anywhere but surrounded by happy people. Misery loves company, right? It doesn’t love being around couples who are perfectly happy, getting everything they fucking want.”

Little dominos collapsed inside of me and I believed him. The growly, hungry, unfed creature in front of me had the same look my heart screamed—
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

He smirked, crushing down his one solitary moment of vulnerability, and held out his half-finished drink to me. I took it from him, sniffed the cloying tequila concoction, and took a drink. It was surprising sweet, like cherries.

Then burned like dragon fire down my throat. I made a face, then took another drink.

“Your body says
fuck me
, but your thoughts are somewhere else entirely.” He tapped a finger next to left temple. “It’s in the eyes. Also, Kelli ratted you out when she tried to sell me your virginity.” His look clouded, his mouth turning down. “Something about being abandoned by your Dom.”

“She told you about Josh?” My stomach bolted, almost upending the alcohol I’d just consumed. My face heated, leaving me feeling pale and sick. “I’m going to kill her. How could she?”

Both eyebrows shot up. “She didn’t give me a name. That’s interesting. I know a Jo…”

“Don’t.”

“Behave,” he warned, straightening suddenly to his full height, chest puffed out. If I didn’t realize how dominant he was, I did then. I wilted. “Your mouth will get you into trouble if you’re not careful, little sub.”

“I’m not your--”

“Aren’t you?” He slouched again, the disinterest returning. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To be my pet? Did you wear something nice for me under that dress, little sub?”

Immediately I thought of the black lace panties I’d worn
just in case
. They stretched over my shape just to the bottom of my ass, and I loved how I looked in them. At home I’d imagined what it would be like to have them peeled off by a stranger who was not Josh but just as expert in the art of domination. I’d loved it, hated it, felt guilt and recklessness and excitement.

Now I bristled, shrinking away and baring my teeth at the same time. His disinterest made me hate him and for some insane reason made it unbearable that he clearly didn’t want me. I didn’t want him to want me in the slightest, but then I did.

This was crazy.

“As a matter of fact,” I tugged the hem of my skirt down, “they are gorgeous. Not that you’ll ever find out.”

“Did he tie you up?” he sneered, flashing canines at me. “Was it his rope you fell in love with? Or his belt?”

“Was she beautiful?” I snapped. “Your submissive? Did she wear your collar? Did she beg before she left you?”

There.
His vicious grin vanished. His fists tightened on the edge of the bar and his whole body fought to contain that strum of rage. That unrequited longing. Very small tremors shook his arms. I imagined him tearing the room to pieces if I opened my mouth again.

“Yes.” His voice was barely more than a growl. “She was very beautiful.”

I flinched and looked down into my drink that was his, already feeling its potency in my fingers and toes. He was right, my mouth was bound to get me into a lot of trouble.

“She’s a lot like you, actually. Very…” His eyes flashed down my body and I realized why he’d stared so hard at it before.

“Curvy,” I offered, feeling a blush warm my cheeks and neck. “Plus-sized.”

“Yes.” He
mmm
ed at the memory. “More.”

“Smart too?”

“Smarter than me by miles.” A smile threatened to break his sour expression, just the hint of it at the corners of his mouth before he swallowed it whole. “She loves to read. Everything she can get her hands on.”

This was probably going to get me kicked out. Or killed. But I took a little step towards him.

“So, why isn’t she here?”

“No one sold me her virginity.” He exhaled and turned back to making a new drink for himself. “Why aren’t you tied to his bed where you belong, little sub?”

“I hate to break it to you but you got screwed on the virginity deal.”

“Well, fuck.”

He poured four different bottles into his glass, topped with a mint leaf just because. I didn’t think he actually looked at what he poured. I doubted he cared. He was angry and badly wanting to erase something. I could understand that.

“He doesn’t want me. That’s all.”

Oliver stilled and glanced over his shoulder at me. “I find that extremely difficult to believe.”

“He picked someone else.”

He swore softly and looked away.

“She’s engaged,” he told his drink. “And gone for good.”

“This is maybe the most depressing party I have ever been to.”

He barked a laugh and turned towards me, abandoning his drink mix. He closed the distance and took my drink out of my hands, setting it on the counter behind me.

“Josh will regret not locking you in his bedroom and never letting you out.”

When he pressed forward, closing the space between us, I back pedaled until there was no room. He smelled like expensive cologne and lime. 

I wondered if his throat would taste like salt.

“I doubt that.”

He grabbed my hand suddenly, squeezed it tight in his fist. “We’ll see when I have you bent over in my playroom and I put him on speaker phone.”

“Wait.” I blinked. “What?”

“We could erase them both,” he said, voice rough with emotion. He used his free hand on my hips to turn me, and I let him—
god, I let him
—until I faced the counter. He took both my hands and set them on the marble, spread my fingers and held them down, his fingers in between mine. In this position, no one would be able to see me beneath him. No one had to know. He ducked his head against my neck and rumbled his pleasure against my skin. “Right here. Just like this. If you made a sound, I’d find a wooden spoon…”

And just as he nestled his hips into my ass, his phone went off in his pocket. I felt the vibration against my hip, but the sound was like a gunshot that halted his behavior in its place. He stopped grinding and stood there for long, long minutes, leaving me panting and dying inside. Who knew men like this could exist? Who knew they’d touch me in a way that almost felt like wanting?

God we were so fucked up, him and me. For a second, just a second, I understood what Josh must have felt like that morning, crazy and overwhelmed with emotion, ready to do something extra stupid to make the madness quiet down.

But he didn’t answer his phone or fulfill his dream of plowing me in his kitchen. Instead he pulled me back, effortlessly as if I weighed nothing at all.

“Little sub,” he murmured affectionately against my hair. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

And there was no waiting and no power in my voice to stop him. He never let go of my hand as he dragged me out of the kitchen and into the dark throng of people dancing and talking crowding each other room after room. I had to press myself against Oliver’s body to keep from being separated as people saw him and tried to intercept. He held onto me though, protected me from them as he thundered his way past, ignoring his guests. Oliver was a bull, dead set on his goal and everyone else could go straight to hell.

My brain went numb, refusing to argue how bad an idea this was because my heart had been leading me around for weeks and so far all it had done was get me into trouble. I deserved this. I deserved being wanted.

Oliver forced me through the living room, or what would have been a living room had it not been rearranged to accommodate the partiers and dancers. Despite the low lights, I could tell everything was white, white couches and chairs and pale, creamy carpet that sunk beneath each hurried step. Oliver lived in luxury and wealth. It was absolutely clear as he muscled through his guests, ignoring them or ordering them out of the way, that he wanted for absolutely nothing.

He squeezed my hand, not reassuringly but as if he were making sure I was still hanging on for dear life. There was nothing gentle or affectionate about him. Something I was pretty sure was a symptom of a broken heart and a lot of time left alone to forget how, rumbling around in this ivory tower of glass and steel.

I kind of understood that a little too well.

At the far end of the living room, tucked aside and almost obscured by a credenza and large colorful art, was a very peculiar old wooden door. Its handle and decorative hardware were iron and looked like it been once been ripped off a monastery from another century, probably by Oliver himself.

At the very least, it looked like it ought to hide the Minotaur. Next to all the white molding and contemporary art, it all but screamed
Here there be dragons
.

No one paid us any mind as he pulled out a key and unlocked the heavy door.

His playroom. He was really taking me to his playroom, right in the middle of his own party. And no one noticed my apparent kidnapping.

Oliver tugged me into the dark room, the only illumination coming from squares of moonlight let in through French doors leading to a private balcony. They glowed silver and white, stretching across a small, round room.

He shut the door. Locked it.

I could make out the shapes of bookshelves and cabinets, a bed and freestanding bath tub, shadows and nothing more substantial. White sheets on a perfectly plain bed reflected the silver moonlight, the brightest spot in the whole room. There was something otherworldly about the bed. Something untamed.

“This is a very bad idea,” I whispered violently against his shoulder. “I can’t do this.”

“Baby.” He brushed his mouth across my forehead. “I only have very bad ideas.”

Without warning, he twisted me into the wall, pinning my hands above my head and crushing my body with his. A flush of moonlight just barely brightened our skin, cast shadows of our bodies in long, supernatural shapes.

It was over in a second, caught, captured, held and I didn’t even consider resisting. Who would? In the dark, with this man, I could erase Josh.

I could forget.

I could drown.

My heart dropped to my toes and everything between my legs drenched in erotic, eager anticipation.

There was no way I wasn’t going to regret this in the morning.

“Good girl,” he breathed. He used one hand to hold my wrists while the other slid into my hair and pushed my forehead to touch the wall, forcing me to bow my head in supplication. “It’s a shame we didn’t meet under different circumstances. I would have loved breaking you in.”

“What do you mean?” My voice shook, a whimper of its usual strength. I shrunk beneath him, completely enclosed by his body. Where Josh made me feel strong in submission, Oliver made me feel overpowered. Different, but equally intoxicating.

With the pounding music on the other side of the wall, there was no way anyone would hear me scream.

Even if I wanted to.

Which I didn’t.

A light came on behind us, somewhere on the other side of the large room. It was hardly more than candle bright, a flicker creating as many shadows as it dashed. He growled against my ear and turned his head towards the light. He did not seem surprised in the least.

Then.

“Oliver.”

I froze. Didn’t move. Didn’t breath. Afraid to open my eyes.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”