Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (14 page)

“Whatever you want to call it. I am your fucking wife, Darren. How dare you screw another woman?”

That got him to perk up, and I really didn’t know if that was a good thing. It certainly made the fingers of my right hand bite into my arm, but there was no sense in denying that I was speaking the truth—which I realized just as I uttered the words.

“Interesting.”
 

I raised my brows at him, making him explain.
 

“That you would refer to yourself like that even after running away from me with another man.”

“I didn’t exactly leave you for him,” I hissed, leaning closer. Too close, I realized, when his scent hit me—so familiar, so enticing. “I left because I had to save myself. And just so you know it, you are the one and only man who I’ve let touch me, let alone fuck me, since I swore to you that there wouldn’t be any others. You, on the other hand, don’t seem to have any qualms whoring around.”

He pursed his lips, but that didn’t hide his satisfaction upon hearing the news. I immediately wished I could take that tidbit back, but that was, of course, impossible. He could still read me perfectly, so he must have realized that I’d been telling the truth.

“Isn’t it funny that it’s the fact that I’m sleeping with another woman that you find so repulsive about my character?”

Oh, it was, but that was a hellhole waiting to be analyzed another day.

“I really don’t see the humor in it,” I stated.
 

Darren mulled that over, but the laughter dancing in his eyes made it obvious that, unlike with Daliah, I wasn’t going to win the upper hand with him.

“Let’s just say I break things off with her,” he said. “What would you do then? Move back in with me? I still have all your things.”

There was no other possible answer than to scoff at his proposition. Agent Smith might be trying to save Daliah no matter the cost, but I certainly wasn’t going to trade myself in for her—which wasn’t a guarantee for the girl’s safety in the first place.

“So you can finish what you started? I’m not that stupid, Darren.”

His smile widened—which was wrong for so many reasons—but he didn’t seem disappointed.

“No, you aren’t. Guess someone tortured that right out of you.”

That was more candid than I’d expected, and it made my latent panic roar back to life from where it had been hiding in the recesses of my mind. I tensed, and when he pushed himself off the table I found myself backing away from him, which only served to make him stalk me. My back hit the wall, drawing a small sound of distress from me, which he answered with a smile. I fully expected him to keep me there, maybe even hurt me, but what he did instead was slide his hand up my thigh, under my dress, aiming straight for my pussy. I froze as I felt his fingers dip under the soft material of my panties, finding me still wet from the start of our conversation, if not exactly receptive. His mouth curved up into a lopsided smile as he started stroking me, using his free hand to prop himself up against the wall so he could lean in but remain at a distance, not touching me anywhere else. His gaze was fastened on mine, his eyes holding me captive more so than our position.
 

And even with my mind screaming and most of my muscles locked in fright, I felt myself respond to him. And he felt it, too, rotating his hand so that his thumb could continue stroking my clit but leaving his fingers free to enter me. A spasm ran through my body, my breath leaving me with a loud exhale, but the last note of it was damn close to the beginnings of a moan. He didn’t say anything for a minute, just continued to fuck me with his fingers, his eyes never leaving my face.

He knew exactly how to touch me, and how to read my reactions. I could see from the veritable glee in his gaze that he could tell just how terrified I was, and how much I hated myself for getting off on this—and it was that realization that made me give in. Because, deep down I knew that I was giving him exactly what he wanted, and I was the only one in the entire world to satisfy that desire. Whatever had transpired, how many things may have changed, that one fact was still the same—I lived and breathed to fulfill his needs.

Damn, but I was so screwed.

I came with a cut-off moan, my eyes screwed shut, denying him that one, last pleasure. His soft laugh told me that he couldn’t have cared less. He withdrew his fingers once he felt me go slack, and I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that he was still smirking as he licked them clean. But something made me watch, my gaze finding his again, and I didn’t miss how that grimace of his turned back into a pleasant smile. Oh, did he have reasons aplenty to be pleased today.

“You may have run away from me, Penelope. But you’ll never get away.”

Wasn’t that the truth.

He pulled back then, releasing me from the cage his body had built around me, but I remained plastered to the wall. My heart was still racing, every fiber of my being still singing from that insane release. I knew I should run. I’d gambled high, and this round had definitely gone to him. But for the life of me, I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t even look away—and I was sure that he knew all that, and it amused him to no end.

His voice was raspy as he broke the silence.

“Thanks to your antics, I’ll have to spend the remainder of the day appeasing her. Did you think of that when you started your little cat-and-mouse game? First, she will be all about me ignoring her—and you know how much I can stand that nonsense. Then, she’ll demand that I make some inane concessions, like deny that I ever wanted anyone like I want her. I’ll have to go down on her, because that’s the only way to shut her up for good. She’s not like you in that I could just tell her to snap out of it and get on her knees. And to prove to her that I mean every word she thinks she’s heard I’ll have to fuck her, too. But guess what I’ll be thinking about the entire time? You. Staring at me with wild, fear-widened eyes before you succumb to me. You, with defiance winning out over fear. You, angry with me because I dare fuck a woman who’s younger than you are. More pliable than you are. And so fucking naive that she can’t even understand a warning when everyone she meets blares it into her face. You told her, didn’t you? That I’m not Mr. Perfect. That I’m not a nice guy.”

I didn’t try to answer. Swallowing was enough of a task as it was. Just continuing to hold his gaze slayed me. Darren’s answering smile was softer than it had any right to be as he reached for me, caressing my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“You could make it all stop, you know?” he proposed.

My mouth was suddenly dry, my body trembling ever so slightly under his touch. Why, oh why did he still have that much power over me? Shouldn’t I have snapped out of that months ago?

“You mean, I could let you kill me?” I whispered, my voice barely audible even in the utter silence of the room.

His smile widened, but it still wasn’t a mean grimace. Damn him.

“Why would I want to do that? That wasn’t even my intention back when… you know exactly when.”

I wondered if he was still expecting me to wear a wire. Or did he consider that entire part somehow obscene? Like a dirty little secret you got off on but never dared mention afterward? The idea alone horrified me, as did the memories… and still I couldn’t make myself stop wanting him. Yet defiance was slowly threading its way along my spine, making me feel less helpless and at his complete and utter mercy.

“What then, Darren? What exactly do you want me to do?”

His smile took on a derisive edge, making me guess that I’d posed the wrong kind of question.

“If you still have to ask, you’re not worthy of my response,” he said, his voice hardening as he withdrew again. I didn’t know whether to feel abandoned or exceptionally relieved. Maybe a little bit of both.

Turning away, he started pacing, but as soon as he was on his way back to me, his eyes were on mine again, his focus sharp.

“You don’t need to be afraid that I will just sneak up on you and end that miserable existence of yours. I’m not even going to take revenge on that imbecilic lap dog of yours, particularly now that I know that he never got to touch what is rightfully mine. You’re way more cruel to him than I ever could be.”

I continued to stare at him, at a loss for what to say. It wasn’t like I didn’t believe him—but the past had proven to me that absolute statements from him were seldom exactly what I thought I’d heard.

I could have asked him a million things then, but what actually made it over my lips was, “Do you love her?”

I knew that was the right question to ask because his lips curled up into a smile—and not a pleasant one this time.

“You mean, do I intend to add her to my collection?”

That word alone was enough to make me want to curl into a ball and cry, but I forced myself to remain right where I was, holding his gaze.

“Yes.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, but the answer I got was less candid than I wanted it to be.

“You already know the answer to that. Just as I know you better than anyone else, you have a chillingly good grasp of my proclivities. Why don’t you answer that question yourself?” He gave me about ten seconds to do so, but when I remained silent, Darren shrugged. “Suit yourself. Guess we will find out soon enough.”

He paused again, and for a moment I was afraid that he would lean in to kiss me, but instead, he got the door, holding it open for me.

“After you.”

I forced myself to vacate my spot on the wall and walk out of the room on shaky legs. Turning my back on him made every hair on my body stand on end, but it was easier than I had expected. Guess I believed him after all.

Without looking back, I strode toward the entrance of the country club, more than ready to collect my car. I’d almost made it to the foyer when I rounded a corner, and there she was standing—Daliah. I didn’t make eye-contact—in fact, I couldn’t—yet from the corner of my eye I saw her go rigid as her eyes skipped from me to Darren, who was still walking behind me, too close to make this look like a coincidence. In that moment I hated him—not just for making me a pawn in his game, but because the anger on her face made me feel like less than I was. It made me feel like his whore. I was many things—but that I had long since left behind. Like that, the last ounce of sympathy I still held for the girl died, but I forced myself to keep on walking, even when I felt Darren’s warmth drop away from my back when he got ready to start that appeasement he’d told me more about than I’d ever needed, let alone wanted, to know.
 

Knowing him, he’d do too good a job at it to make her walk out on him.

Knowing her, she would ignore all the warnings and forgive him.

And knowing me, I would damn well make sure that she wasn’t going to be a problem much longer.

I went straight to Brigitte’s, not caring that I was more than two hours early. The mere thought of being on my own right now, locked inside my head with my thoughts ricocheting around in there, was beyond what I could bear. The blaring radio kept them at bay somewhat, but the moment I stepped into the elevator that brought me up to her apartment, I felt the feeble walls I had been trying to raise crumble.

Could I trust what he’d told me? That I could stop constantly looking over my shoulder, always afraid that the next moment someone would sink another needle into my neck and I’d wake up tied to that chair again?
 

But why?

And what was that business about him never actually wanting to kill me? That statement right there negated anything remotely comforting I might have read into what else he had said, because I knew beyond a doubt that I had been on my last few days left when I’d smashed my hand in that door.
 

Sure, he seemed to get a lot out of our screwed-up cat-and-mouse game—that I seemed to be losing more than winning, really—but Darren had never struck me as a patient man. Was he waiting for something? But what? And how did his insurance that he didn’t feel the need to kill Adam factor into all this?

I had no answer to any of that by the time I stepped into Brigitte's boudoir, fending off her surprise with bullshit excuses. I could tell that she wasn’t buying them, but she didn’t ask. It only occurred to me then that she’d been doing the same since the start, which was very uncommon for her. Was it because she already knew the answers?

Could it be that, somehow, she was in on all this? Was the reason why Hunter hadn’t gone after her, or even threatened to, because he’d bought her?

I knew that I had to stop right there before my paranoia could get the best of me. There were only a handful of people out there that I could trust, and Brigitte was number one right now. I would have loved to say that it was because we were friends, but really, she had no stakes in seeing me succeed or fail, and that made her a lot more trustworthy than anyone else right now.

“Has it occurred to you that you’re going about whatever you aim to accomplish the wrong way?” she asked. Her question tore me out of my funk, if not my paranoid suspicions.

“You know what my goal is,” I offered, trying to get her to divulge what she meant with that statement.

Brigitte’s eyes narrowed. “Do you?”

That made me scoff. “I told you—“

“Yes, yes, I remember. But frazzled as you are right now, you don’t look like all you’re out to get is information.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, not even attempting to tone down my irritation. Her reading me well enough to see right through the walls I’d tried to erect around my troubled mind was the last thing I needed.

She shrugged. “When first you showed up here, I believed that sentence, because you were calm, and you delivered it with conviction. But now? I know you well enough that I can see how much he is getting under your skin, Penelope. I would have expected you not to let him if you didn’t want him to.”

Blinking with irritation, I tried not to let her see how much her accusation—mild as it sounded—unnerved me.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“But you do,” she insisted, sighing when I just stared back at her stubbornly. “I’m not accusing you of being a stupid, love-struck idiot. You left that phase well behind you. Yet the way you are acting right now, it seems like you almost don’t want him behind bars.”