Yet I knew… God, he could break me. He could squeeze and that would be all.
“In reality, Emily, murder is messy and final. And it hurts.”
My teeth clenched together. Every muscle in my body went rigid. I wasn’t prepared for this. Finally, I was afraid.
In a sudden movement, he swept his hands back down over my shoulders and I let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Then he began the rhythmic kneading again. His fingers pressed painfully into my tissues causing tears to gather in my eyes. Though it hurt, I preferred it to the soft touch at my throat.
“You asked around about me, Emily,” he said, and again the air left my lungs. This was my crime, I realized. For the second time, I’d fucked up. Fucked up big. Had I really thought that my questions would go unnoticed? Had I really thought Reeve let anything go unnoticed? “That didn’t make me happy.”
I couldn’t help it – I whimpered.
“Aw, Emily. Shh.” He ran a hand over my hair, petting me. Maybe it was supposed to be soothing but I guessed he meant it to be as chilling as it was. “I understand, beautiful girl. I can’t blame you for wanting to find out about the women I’ve been with. It’s smart. You want to know if you could fit in where they did. Want to know if you compare. Want to know why they are no longer with me. If it’s because I really am as dangerous as people say. That’s it, right?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“I need to hear it, Emily. That’s why you were asking, wasn’t it?”
My yes came out on another whimper, but he accepted it. “Good.” He ran the tips of his fingers around the edge of my face from my chin to my forehead, stopping to massage my temples. “The problem with men who are actually a threat, though, Emily, is that you don’t ever find out how unsafe they are until it’s too late.”
I shuddered. But even though my breathing was now laced with soft sobs and my lip was trembling, I was still undeniably aroused.
I hated him, I decided. I hated him and I hated me.
Reeve’s hands fell audibly into his lap. “Tell you what. Since you were so curious, I’ll give you this: each relationship I’ve had has ended for a reason. There’s no need for you to know any more than that.”
If he were going to kill me, I thought, he wouldn’t say that. He’d tell me everything. Right? It wasn’t a bet I’d put money on, but I was clinging to it.
He leaned his face down toward mine and rested the bridge of his nose on my cheek. A tear slipped down my face as he whispered at my ear. “As for whether or not you compare – yes, Emily. You are one of very few women who actually do.”
He nipped my lobe, sending a buzz of fear/excitement to scatter through my already trembling nerves.
Abruptly, he stood and smiled. Fucking bastard had the nerve to flash me his devilish grin. “Nice chat, Emily. I think this went well, don’t you?”
Thankfully he didn’t press me for an answer because I refused. I was too frightened. Too pissed. He’d never intended to hurt me, just intimidate me. And he got off on it. And that made him a goddamn asshole.
He started to leave and I held as still as I could, waiting for the sound of the door to shut so I could get up, get dressed, and get the fuck out of there.
But before I heard it, he spoke again. “Oh, and I think you made a good choice not to meet up with my former pool boy last night. As his title implies, he’s just a child. What you’re looking for requires a man.”
That was it. I was furious. He’d fucked with me. He’d scared me. He’d belittled and chided. Now he’d implied he was the only person who could give me what I need, yet he’d made sure I knew he was completely off limits. His weakness was me. He wanted me and he hated that maybe as much as I hated him.
I sat up and twisted toward him, purposefully letting the sheet fall around my waist. “You sound jealous, Reeve.”
He turned back to me, his eyes sparking at the sight of my naked torso. His expression was hot and primitive, drawing my nipples out to sharp points. He placed his hand over the thick bulge at the front of his pants and stroked himself. “Maybe I am jealous,” he said, his voice strained. “But I’ve learned from experience not to let jealousy inform my actions.”
With his hand still pressed against his cock, he delivered one last statement. “Leave my resort, Ms. Wayborn.” Then he was gone.
I let out an exasperated groan.
Then, I left too.
I dressed as fast as I could and hurried back to my room where I packed in a flurry. Within an hour after leaving my massage, I was checked out of the hotel and on my way home. Done. I was done with him. The whole thing had been a bad idea. The man was a psycho. A fucking manipulator.
For the entire two-hour drive back to Hollywood, though, as well as the days that followed, Reeve’s words stayed with me, haunting me as effectively as Amber did. He’d been warning me, yes. Proving he was a threat. Making sure I knew who he was and what he could do. And it worked – I was thoroughly convinced.
But I couldn’t stop remembering that look in his eyes – the one that wanted to devour me. The one that said his control was on a thread. That blazed as he stroked himself through his pants.
He’d threatened me, but that look made me wish I’d called his bluff.
CHAPTER 8
The backstage assistant smiled in recognition when she spotted me. She was dressed in a black, long-sleeve shirt and black jeans and looked out of place next to all the stars decked in evening wear. Leaning forward, she covered the mike of her headset and whispered, “Ms. Wayborn, you’re up in ten.”