“This can’t happen again.” He hung his head. “It’s one thing to playact it for this job, but we can’t make it a reality.”
He was rejecting her. Again. Not just her heart and her virginity this time, but her entire body, apparently. Renewed tears welled in her eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”
His gaze refusing to meet hers, he efficiently released her from his belt and slipped it back through its loops. He pressed the most tender, heartbreaking kiss on her forehead before stretching to his feet and collecting his jacket from the cupboard.
“Tomorrow you’ll be one step closer to being rid of me after our debut at Rapture, but in the meantime I’m camping out in the alley. You’ll be safe tonight.” Without a backward glance, he strode down the stairs.
Her chest a mass of misery, she listened to the lower door click shut. He might be less than twenty yards away, but he’d never been more out of her reach.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling so lonely.
Jerrick heaved a weary breath as he opened his vehicle door and prepared to bed down for the night. Walking out on his favorite meal and the woman who owned his heart and soul. His life couldn’t sink to any lower depths.
The memory of Avi spread beneath him, her body trembling while she came, continued to torment him. He held his fingers to his nose and breathed deeply, arousal twisting his insides while her scent teased his senses. Desire ambushed him with a renewed vengeance, forcing him to pray for the strength he’d need to not throw open his door and rush back to her so he could finish what he’d started.
No. He’d been right to walk away from her. Again. She might hate him now. Possibly would for the remainder of her days. Which would serve them both well. Whatever it took to exorcise him from her heart once and for all. It was for the best.
The assertion did little to bolster his weary spirit. Leaning his elbow on the window, he lifted his gaze to the massive blue moon overhead and silently cursed Amora. It was the epitome of divine trickery—filling the heart of man with the fruitless hope of lasting love.
Chapter Sixteen
What had she been thinking, agreeing to this farce? No amount of making Jerrick grovel was worth pretending she called the shots over him when clearly she didn’t.
Scowling at her reflection in the looking glass, Avily smoothed her hands over her hips, the wicked dominatrix dress of Mistress Scarlett only making her feel like a bigger fraud. Just because she wore the garb of a cool, confidant woman didn’t mean she wielded control with the flick of a whip and the mere power of her command. No matter how much she wished it was the case.
Maybe she should have agreed to act his sub. The role might not be to her liking, but it was closer to reality. He’d always held the reins on their relationship—if you could call it such. Regardless, when he snapped his fingers, she came running like a happy pup seeking the approval of her master.
Bitterness sat sour on her tongue. The unpleasant sensation didn’t dissipate when a motion behind her drew her focus to Jerrick standing in the bathroom doorway. She scowled. “Is it completely impossible for you to enter a room the normal way—invited?”
“I knocked downstairs. You didn’t answer.” He glanced impatiently at his com. “Traffic is going to be a bitch. We need to leave soon.”
“Trust me, I’m as anxious to get this nonsense done with as you are.”
He stepped behind her and secured the laces on her dress. “I see twenty-four hours hasn’t improved your mood.”
“I’m sorry if my bitchiness is cramping your style,” she replied acidly.
“I suspect your bitchiness will only add to our cover. I only hope my delicate derriere can withstand the spankings you relish dishing out.”
Damn him for cracking a smile from her.
His gaze drifted to her mouth, and he traced his thumb over the bow of her bottom lip. It took everything inside her not to sweep her tongue over the passing digit.
He lowered his head until his jaw brushed her ear. “I adore your smile. If only you bestowed it on me more than once a year.”
“I wouldn’t want you becoming addicted to it.” She’d deliberately goaded him with the statement, well aware that he’d be reminded of his own words from the other night when he’d professed to enjoying the way she begged.
There would be no more damn begging from her. Now or ever.
He finished tying off the top lacing, and his fingers lingered for a second before slipping from her skin. She felt the absence of his touch all the way to her empty soul. It was ridiculous to mourn the loss of something—someone—she’d never have.
“We need to discuss tonight, Avi.”
“We’ve already been through it a million times. I know my cover. I’m not going to blow it.”
“Not purposely, but the truth is we have no idea what we might be walking into.” His expression remained pensive. “I’ll do my best to avoid any awkward situations for us, but I can’t promise we won’t be tested. In fact, I’m expecting it. We’ll be a new rarity to them. Likely I’ll be the only male fae submissive who’s walked through their doors. It’ll draw attention to us. We can’t avoid it.”
She hadn’t given much thought to it before, but what he said was bound to be true. A human calling the shots over a fae? Much less an inconsequential woman such as herself?
Oh gods, they were never going to pull this off.
Jerrick must have intuited her panic because he turned her to face him and cupped her cheeks. “Breathe. You can do this.”
“Are you nuts? They’re going to see straight through this crock of shit.”
“No, they won’t. But this is why we need to be prepared for anything.”
She mentally replayed his warning from minutes ago. “What did you mean by a test?”
“They’ll want to feel us out. See how we play, fit into the scene.”
She didn’t like where this was going. “Can’t I just smack you on the ass a few times and be done with it?”
His smile was crooked. “Much as I’m looking forward to that, I suspect it won’t be that easy.” The wariness slipped back over his features. “We might find ourselves in a more sexual position.”
There was no way in hell he was discussing sexual positions with her. Not after last night. “Want to run that by me again?”
“It is a sex club first and foremost, Avi. It would be odd and highly suspicious if their members didn’t actually have sex within the boundary of its walls.”
Was he suggesting what she thought he was?
“We might have to fake having sex.”
Okay, not what she’d thought. A bothersome spear of sorrow lanced through her. Only to be replaced with anger a moment later. Clearly the notion of making love to her, binding their life threads, was so abhorrent to him he would avoid it all costs. Hell, why share their hearts when they could damn well fake it instead?
“Fine,” she bit out flatly. “Not like I can’t fake an orgasm with you.” A spark of pettiness taking root, she tossed him a challenging stare.
He returned it calmly. “You didn’t fake it any of the times I made you come. I know the difference. But nice try.”
Son of a bitch. “Can we just get on with this? Standing here discussing what might happen is doing nothing to relax my nerves.”
He left her for a moment and returned a second later with a fur-trimmed cloak. It had the disturbing power to remind her of the tormenting mitt he’d used on her last night. She shivered at the memory, her pussy growing damp. Desperately willing away the tantalizing recollection, she caressed the silk lining while he draped the luxurious garment over her shoulders. “When did you get this?”