Page 41 of Stay Toxic

I follow in silence, grateful for the break in the conversation to let my brain catch up with the information thrown at it in the last few minutes. Try to understand it.

At first, I assume he just wants to dance, but Sebastian asks, “Can you talk yet?”

I blink up to him in surprise. Does he know I have trouble processing surprises too fast? That I need time and space and to be left alone for a bit?

“I didn’t want to shock you tonight, promise,” he says, still leading me in slow circle. “If that wanker hadn’t turned up, I would have given you a lot more time. Days. Weeks, maybe.” His hand slides along my spine, settling on my shoulder. “Well, maybe not that many weeks. I’ve wanted to touch you since that very first day.”

I blink as he brings his mouth down, so very close to my skin. To my ear.

“When you watched,” he whispers. “And looked like you were about to come just from looking at my cock.”

I can’t help a gasp. Did I really look like that? I don’t know what I remember from that day. I was in shock at first. And then I certainly watched him. I can barely remember the other guy, actually.

“I…” I start, not knowing where to go from there. What I’m going to stay.

I close my mouth and open it again.

“My mother controls every aspect of my life. And if she believes she’s in control, then I get some leeway. When I push back, I get?—”

I don’t want to say what I get. I don’t walk to talk about the cupboard, about the threats on my brother, about being dragged away screaming, and losing everything I care about.

“Punished.” I flush, deeply embarrassed. I’m twenty-two. I shouldn’t have to follow anyone else’s ideas about how to live my life.

If I were more courageous, I'd tell my mother to shove it, and live my life as I see fit, but it's not that simple, given the stakes.

I had more spunk when it was just about me. Since she brought André into it, I’ve just bided my time.

What’s three more years when I’ve had to live with this for the last twenty-two?

“Senator Cole is never going to get her hands on your again, Hestia.”

“It’s not aboutme.” I wince. “Not just me, anyway.”

“Right. Your little brother.” He sighs. “Let’s talk of something else tonight. Like the fact that some little green-eyed pervert might have had a little crush on me.”

“I don’t,” I blatantly lie, making him chuckle.

“You do, Hestia. But that’s all right, isn’t it? Because I have a humongous, monumental, all-consuming infatuation withyou.” Those lips that always say the right thing now press along the sensitive skin of my neck.

“You don’t,” I argue, because he can’t. “You just want to get into my pants.”

That makes him laugh out loud. “Oh, Hestia. If that were all I needed from you, you and I both know I could have taken it.” Before I can think of a retort, he adds, “All I had to do was to promise you secrecy. Tell you I’d fuck you behind closed doors and no one would ever know.”

My entire body tingles with raw need at these words, uncovering a desire I haven’t admitted to myself. I can’t help it; my eyes cut to his, searching them, trying to detect deception. All I see is heat, matching what’s burning under my skin.

I shiver as his fingertip caresses a path from my shoulder to my waist.

“Sadly, darling, hiding isn’t my thing.”

Oh.

So much forthat.

“Don’t look quite so sad, my little pervert. I’ll screw you into next year like you so clearly want me to,” he promises. “Just not unless I can scream it to the world. I like to show off what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours.”

“Not yet.”