One Dirty Night - Page 133

“I hope you know I won’t forgive you for this,” I hissed as Nick pulled me toward the silver fence ringing Spectacle of Secrets.

He tensed as if I hurt him, but he didn’t stop. “Just…trust me, Ella. That’s all I ask.”

“I trusted you when you said I was yours. And only yours. You won’t even take me back to The Black Peacock because you can’t stand the thought of other men seeing me naked.”

“This is different.”

“How the hell is this any different?” I snarled as we crossed the road, and I lost myself to the storm of butterflies in my belly.

“Well, for one, Hunter has already seen you naked.” He stiffened. “Among other things.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“Remember you said that when you’re inside. I dare you.”

“Dare me?”

Wow.

Who the hell was this guy, and what had he done to my sweet, worshipping Master? He reminded me far too much of the callous Nick who’d done his best to hide his feelings beneath ice.

Hang on…

The way he refused to meet my eyes.

The tightness in his shoulders.

The regret that flashed in his stare every now and again.

I frowned.

If he regretted this, then…let’s turn around.

Now.

Before it was too late.

I adored my night with Nick and Hunter. I’d dreamed about it for months afterward. But…I loved Nick. I wanted Nick. I belonged to Nick. Hunter was part of our pasts, and…as incredible as he was—as much as he’d helped me with Nicholas, and I would always be incredibly grateful for his gift of awakening—I needed him to stay there.

Not because of temptation.

Not because I didn’t trust myself.

But because I was happy.

Blissfully, wonderfully happy.

Or at least…I was.

“Nicholas, please…” I tugged on his hand. “Talk to me. Help me understand this.”

Slamming to a stop, he cupped my cheeks and ran his thumbs ever so gently over my blush-dusted skin. “I love you, Ella, with everything that I am. If you want me to tell you what we’re doing here, I will. I can’t stand the thought of causing you misery or worry. So…ask me again, and I’ll tell you.” His hands tightened around my nape. “Or…if you trust me like you say you do…then…please be patient. Come with me. Obey me.”

I hovered in his control.

A figure appeared out of the corner of my eye.

A man I’d recognise anywhere with his purple contacts, roguish black hair, and suave eclipse-coloured slacks and shirt. No lightning bolt on his cheek tonight, but a black heart with a jagged line right down the centre rested beneath his eye as if he cried a single broken-hearted droplet.