His rejection—once more—douses cold water all over my burning body.
The splash, stinging twice as painful.
I don’t understand why this refusal is hurting more now than the last time. It doesn’t matter that I was prepared. Yet it keeps burning me from the inside out.
All because of his overwhelming confession.
The raw honesty leaves me too stunned to speak except his name. I sought after the truth, chased it ruthlessly the whole night and instead of feeling victory, I feel loss. Yeah, he admitted to being jealous and I should be reveling in it, but the emotion it held was so much more.
Or maybe I’m just imagining it.
This is Dash. Cold and unemotional. It has to be another one of his mind games.
He continues to stare intensely, watching my face for a reaction, but I slowly back away, making his hand fall to the side. The moment breaks, a wall building between us, and with it comes his perfectly practiced mask.
I hate how easily he puts himself back together and buries his emotions like a flip of a switch. The only evidence of the last few minutes is the wrinkling of his suit and hair in disarray from when I pulled on the strands.
While I’m still struggling to erase it and calm my wildly beating heart.
With each second, his iciness starts soaking into me, making goosebumps rise on every surface of my skin where he savagely left his marks in places that are still throbbing.
Even if I want to forget all about tonight, I can’t because I’m going to be feeling him for days. If it was his intention, he succeeded.
My body keeps tingling whereas my mind is rapidly accepting the consequence of his denial and the only reason I came here in the first place. Desolation sinks in that despite everything going my way, it didn’t lead to the conclusion I ached for. I’m once again stuck with the saddest and painful reality of marrying for real.
I feel so silly for pinning all my hope on Dash.
But mostly, I’m disappointed in myself.
I’m torn between wanting to save the rest of my dignity by telling him I didn’t actually come here to sway his decision before he cruelly answered. I open my mouth to say the same but I can’t find it in me to lie.
He knows me too well and I would rather stand by my choice than deny and run like a coward.
I also know we can’t go on like this.
The frustrating push and pull, the fight and the taunts. Especially ending up alone in the dark corners and almost fucking. It has to stop and I only see it happening one way.
“We can’t work together, Dash.”
There’s a lingering pause when I hold my breath and it whooshes out of me when he nods while pocketing his hand. “No, we can’t.”
My mood sours even more at him agreeing so casually. It leaves me surprised because I honestly expected him to disagree or fight or threaten me like he’s done till now.
And why does it sting yet again? And why do I keep expecting him to suddenly have a humbling heart when mine isn’t even on the table?
If he’s giving mixed signals, then I’m not doing any better.
I’m just as much at fault as he is.
“I’ll find you a replacement or give recommendations for your project on Monday,” I say, unable to handle his intense stare and silence.
“Bianca,” he sighs.
“I’m leaving,” I say, cutting him off. “Goodbye Dash.”
He made his choice and the last thing I need is pity from him, which I can sense pouring off him. His lips press into a thin line and it only makes him look hotter instead of repulsive.
“I’ll walk you out,” he says firmly. “Come on.”
I step back and shake my head. “No, thanks. I know the way well by now.”
He ignores my words and grabs my hand roughly before pulling us in a different direction to the one I came in. I protest, tugging my hand, but he tightens his grip and stares down at me. “The crowd tends to get wild on a party night, so there’s no chance I’m letting you leave alone. Got it?”
“But you’re going in the wrong direction, Dash.”
I trail after him, trying to keep up with his long stride as he explains, “There’s a private elevator. I’m taking you there.”
As soon we reach it, he presses the button and tugs me inside when the door opens. The enclosed space feels ten times smaller and cozier with just us two as it begins to ride upward. My heart races uncontrollably when he continues to hold my palm in his big one. His thumb is grazing back and forth, almost like he’s unaware and can’t help himself.
He does it so effortlessly like he’s been doing it for years.
With each pass of his calloused finger, I’m lulled into a trance and warmth spreads through me. He keeps staring ahead, expression locked so I can’t read and steal his thoughts.
Does he realize gestures like these only fuck with my head?
They throw me for a loop and I’m left confused with my body’s reaction. Still, I can’t find it in me to yank my hand away.
Afraid of drawing attention and interrupting the soft touch, I take in our reflection in the mirror instead. My lips look swollen from trying not to scream, cheeks flushed as if I was fucked to within an inch of my life, while my hair is no better. But what causes a low throb in my core are the purple hickeys his lips left on my thighs.
I trace them with my fingers before I can stop myself, not caring about the fact that he could be watching.
Just like that, my mind wanders back to his possessive touch, the dark raging desire in his gaze as he growls and punishes me. The pleasurable pain when he ruthlessly bit my pussy. The action was savage and barbaric yet I wasn’t appalled.
It only heightened the ecstasy I felt and had he not stopped, I would’ve come just from it. And just when I thought it was over, he spanked my pussy. Hard. Viciously. Mercilessly. The sharp sting spreads into heat, and I bite my lip when a whimper tries to escape.
The sudden urge to close my thighs has me shifting nervously on my feet.
I had never known a man could become so consumed with lust and madness until him.
That jealousy could be such a powerful drug.
After experiencing this side of him, I feel robbed that he didn’t dominate me like this the night he took my virginity. He was commanding and possessive back then too, but there was also a reverence in the way he claimed me.
I’m so lost in my treacherous thoughts when I realize his thumb has paused and as the haze wears off, I’m met with his piercing and knowing eyes. They lower to where I’m clutching my dress and I instantly let go.
My cheeks heat at getting caught red-handed for having dirty daydreams about him.
Before I can make any more mistakes, the elevator stops and opens to the lobby. Perfect timing. I breathe easy and take a step but he pulls me back, blocking my way.
I frown when he says, “Wait.”
My lips part as he carefully removes his suit jacket, his muscles making my mouth water. I hate the treacherous thought that saddens me at not getting the chance to explore his hard body. He was always in good shape but now he’s become impossibly broader and a hardened version of his younger self.
Does he still roam around shirtless at his house? The question sparks from the memory of him doing it in the past. Every time I ran into him when I used to visit Niall, Dash was always walking around half naked. Sometimes, I believe he did it to torture and annoy me on purpose.
A satisfied smirk would stretch across his lips each time he caught me staring.
I blink and focus back on him while trying not to melt when he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. His scent envelops me in an invisible embrace while the rest of me is dwarfed. Instead of letting me go immediately, he untucks my hair from beneath the collar so it spills down my back.
Grabbing the ends in the middle, he pulls me closer and tilts my face with his finger on my jaw and rasps, “My marks on you are only for my eyes. Understand?”
“Okay,” I mumble.
Only after I’ve agreed, did he move aside and take me outside of the building while holding my hand once more.
Okay. He has to know he’s being sweet. For a man who claims to be a monster and against marrying me, he’s sure being romantic and protective.
Curious eyes in the lobby stay hooked to us as we make our way to the valet stand at the front. The young guy on duty sees me and approaches with a smile as if he recognizes me from before. However, as soon as he notices Dash stepping in his line of vision, his gait falters and a terrified expression shadows his features.
I can’t see Dash’s face but intimidation and fury roll off him in waves. My eyes widen when he says in a dark tone, “Eyes off her, if you’d still like to keep your job.”
“M-Mr. Stern,” the valet stutters. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was with you.”
“I’m not,” I mutter and step around Dash so I’m not standing behind him. Narrowing my gaze, I tell him, “He was being polite. Something you ought to learn.”
“My impoliteness wasn’t an issue when you were soaking and riding my fingers, kitten.”
My cheeks tingle in embarrassment when he says it loudly, making sure the other guy hears. Looks like it’s working because he is now staring awkwardly at his shoes as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
Dash arches his brow arrogantly while crossing his arms, and informs me with a tilt of his head, “And I was polite when I didn’t offer to kick him out of the city for smiling at you.”
“Your definition of polite is really screwed, Dash.”
“As long as it keeps other men away from you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I chuckle mockingly, shaking my head. “How’s that gonna work when I’ll be married soon?”
A muscle tics in his square jaw while his pupils darken dangerously. “You won’t be my problem then,” he replies before barking at the valet, “Bring her car around.”
His broody attitude makes me want to throw his jacket at his face but I hold back the urge. Only because it’s cold outside and not because I secretly crave to have a keepsake of his.
Or that his scent is far too addictive. Smokey and all him.
And definitely not because his gaze keeps flickering down my body every few seconds.
The longer it takes for my car to arrive, the more the air crackles around us as we stand alone on the quiet street. The half-moon plays peekaboo from between the clouds and I wish I could enjoy the beauty, but my mind begins to worry about tomorrow.
I wish for time to come to a standstill.
Wish for the night to not end.
Because once morning comes, my life will forever change. Just like the moon… Pretty from afar but filled with black scars upon closer inspection.
The smooth rumbling of my car pulls me back to the present and Dash places his palm on my waist to guide me forward. The valet lets the engine run and steps out. The jacket falls down one of my shoulders as I bend to get inside.
Dash’s fingers graze my bare collarbone when he rights it before it can fall off completely, making my breathing quicken. His hand lingers a little longer before he finally straightens and shuts the door.
Without a goodbye or a backward glance, he turns around and walks out of my life.
Even when I lay down on my bed hours later, his scent and marks still linger on my skin.
