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night, but of course it hadn t been. That night had meant something to her and she hadn t wanted to
stay in case he hadn t felt the same.
But he had. Why else had he come after her to demand more? Staring right into her, seeing past all
her denials. All her stupid justifications. Looking right into her soul. Seeing her fear.
She let out a breath and put her head in her hands.
God, she thought she d stepped out of that cage, but she hadn t. Seemed as if the moment she
realized she was out, she d run back to it and locked herself inside.
Christ, was she ever going to be free of this?
You could go see him tonight. Show him you re not a coward.
Yeah, perhaps she should. Perhaps she owed it to him too.
Eleanor reached for her phone then leaned back in her chair, bringing up Kahu s number to send
him a text, ask him for his advice.
Then she stopped. She didn t need Kahu s advice. Luc was right. It was time she stopped letting
her fear do her thinking for her. It was time she stepped out of that cage for real.
In fact maybe it was time to get rid of that fucking cage altogether.
Luc told himself he didn t care if she came or not.
He skipped his last lecture of the day and went home, pounding out his frustration and anxiety on
the punching bag he d hung in the second bedroom of his apartment. The room that had absolutely
nothing in it except that bag because he couldn t think of anything else to put in there. It wasn t like he
often had guests, and working out was pretty much his only other hobby. Spending the formative years
of his life with a gun in his hand, the power of life and death walking beside him, meant it was
difficult to find something else that gave him the same rush.
Dominating a certain professor helped.
Luc scowled and landed a hard punch on the bag. But of course, he couldn t deny the truth.
Dominating her was a fucking rush. And that kind of made him question himself and his motivations
for demanding a second night.
Was it really for her? Or was he only indulging himself?
He swung at the bag again, his knuckles connecting hard.
Oh, she d enjoyed what they d done on Friday night, that had been obvious, but he d been pretty
tough in her office today, propelled by anger and a pretty massive helping of desire. He wouldn t
blame her if she wanted him to fuck off after that.
Ah Christ, no point pretending to himself he didn t care if she didn t turn up. He did care. He
wanted her. And maybe that was selfish of him, but hadn t he earned the right to be selfish these days?
He d spent years feeling dead inside. Feeling numb. Some of the other guys in his squad, who d
been with him when he d escaped the militia during a chaotic ambush, had headed into spirals of
drinking and drugs afterwards, tortured by their pasts.
He hadn t. Mostly because he was already numb to it.
But Eleanor, God, she was a bigger hit than any drug. More intoxicating than any spirit. She made
him feel and he wanted more of it. Craved it.
His knuckles hit the bag with a dull thump.
Shit, if it helped her too, then that was all good, wasn t it?
The intercom buzzed.
Luc stopped, the bag swinging, his heart pounding. He was covered in sweat and his knuckles were
bruised and bloody. If that was her, it was fucking bad timing.
Catching his breath, he stalked down the hallway and went into the lounge, hitting the button that
showed him the front entrance of the apartment building on the intercom screen. And sure enough,
there she was, standing with her briefcase in her hand. Polished and neat and sophisticated.
Eleanor.
The ache pulled tight inside him. She d come. She d fucking come.
He stabbed the button that unlocked the door for her. There was no time to have a shower or take
the tape off his hands, or make himself more presentable for her somehow. She d have to take him as
is.
His heart beat like a drum as he went back down the hallway to wait by the front door of his
apartment for her.
Fucking idiot. It s like this is your first date.
Yeah, well, maybe it was. He hadn t been out on any other dates before, had he? At least not with a
woman who really mattered to him.
The knock, when it came, was soft, and when he pulled it open she gave a little start, as if she
wasn t expecting him to answer so quickly. Her eyes widened slightly as she took him in, standing
there shirtless and sweaty.
Oh, I& Sorry, am I interrupting? Her pale fingers shifted on the handle of her briefcase, her
attention dropping to his taped knuckles. She frowned. Shit, Luc. You re bleeding.
He didn t want to explain. Because that would mean telling her he spent a good portion of most
days punching a bag till his hands hurt and his muscles burned, to remind himself he was alive. It s
nothing, he said curtly instead. Punching-bag accident. Come in. And he held the door open for
her, standing aside so she could enter.
She didn t say anything, but her gaze flickered down his body as she went past him and into the
apartment, as if she couldn t help herself. And naturally enough his fucking cock started getting hard.
Jesus, he hadn t really planned on what was going to happen when she got here, mainly because he
hadn t known if she would come or not. He very much wanted to head straight into Dom mode and
take what was his, but his gut wasn t so sure.
There was a nervous look to her, as if she wasn t sure about being here, and he suspected that if he
started giving out orders now, she d bolt. Perhaps it was better to wait and see.
He shut the door behind her then followed her down the hall and into the lounge, hitching a
shoulder against the doorframe as she came to a stop in the middle of the room, looking around.
His lounge area was large and airy, windows giving views out over Auckland s blue harbor. It
was dark now, the lights of boats on the water twinkling, the graceful crescent of the harbor bridge off
to the left. But the room was as bare as the rest of the apartment, the only piece of furniture a long
leather sectional sofa his grandparents had given him. There was nothing else because he had nothing
else except books and a set of Bluetooth speakers sitting on the floor that he used with his MP3
player. Oh yeah, and the set of boxes stacked neatly in one corner. Boxes of belongings he hadn t
unpacked. Not that he ever would unpack them since they were his parents , not his. It was a little
strange to keep them, but his grandparents had wanted him to have them, so he had.
A lover had once told him he should get some pictures, decorate the place, but he hadn t seen the
point in that kind of shit. The apartment was only a place to store his crap, eat in when he could be
bothered to cook, which wasn t often, work out and sleep. That was it.
I need to get cleaned up, take a shower, he said. Can I get you a drink while you wait?
Yes, okay. She put down her briefcase near the sofa. What have you got?
Beer. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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night, but of course it hadn t been. That night had meant something to her and she hadn t wanted to
stay in case he hadn t felt the same.
But he had. Why else had he come after her to demand more? Staring right into her, seeing past all
her denials. All her stupid justifications. Looking right into her soul. Seeing her fear.
She let out a breath and put her head in her hands.
God, she thought she d stepped out of that cage, but she hadn t. Seemed as if the moment she
realized she was out, she d run back to it and locked herself inside.
Christ, was she ever going to be free of this?
You could go see him tonight. Show him you re not a coward.
Yeah, perhaps she should. Perhaps she owed it to him too.
Eleanor reached for her phone then leaned back in her chair, bringing up Kahu s number to send
him a text, ask him for his advice.
Then she stopped. She didn t need Kahu s advice. Luc was right. It was time she stopped letting
her fear do her thinking for her. It was time she stepped out of that cage for real.
In fact maybe it was time to get rid of that fucking cage altogether.
Luc told himself he didn t care if she came or not.
He skipped his last lecture of the day and went home, pounding out his frustration and anxiety on
the punching bag he d hung in the second bedroom of his apartment. The room that had absolutely
nothing in it except that bag because he couldn t think of anything else to put in there. It wasn t like he
often had guests, and working out was pretty much his only other hobby. Spending the formative years
of his life with a gun in his hand, the power of life and death walking beside him, meant it was
difficult to find something else that gave him the same rush.
Dominating a certain professor helped.
Luc scowled and landed a hard punch on the bag. But of course, he couldn t deny the truth.
Dominating her was a fucking rush. And that kind of made him question himself and his motivations
for demanding a second night.
Was it really for her? Or was he only indulging himself?
He swung at the bag again, his knuckles connecting hard.
Oh, she d enjoyed what they d done on Friday night, that had been obvious, but he d been pretty
tough in her office today, propelled by anger and a pretty massive helping of desire. He wouldn t
blame her if she wanted him to fuck off after that.
Ah Christ, no point pretending to himself he didn t care if she didn t turn up. He did care. He
wanted her. And maybe that was selfish of him, but hadn t he earned the right to be selfish these days?
He d spent years feeling dead inside. Feeling numb. Some of the other guys in his squad, who d
been with him when he d escaped the militia during a chaotic ambush, had headed into spirals of
drinking and drugs afterwards, tortured by their pasts.
He hadn t. Mostly because he was already numb to it.
But Eleanor, God, she was a bigger hit than any drug. More intoxicating than any spirit. She made
him feel and he wanted more of it. Craved it.
His knuckles hit the bag with a dull thump.
Shit, if it helped her too, then that was all good, wasn t it?
The intercom buzzed.
Luc stopped, the bag swinging, his heart pounding. He was covered in sweat and his knuckles were
bruised and bloody. If that was her, it was fucking bad timing.
Catching his breath, he stalked down the hallway and went into the lounge, hitting the button that
showed him the front entrance of the apartment building on the intercom screen. And sure enough,
there she was, standing with her briefcase in her hand. Polished and neat and sophisticated.
Eleanor.
The ache pulled tight inside him. She d come. She d fucking come.
He stabbed the button that unlocked the door for her. There was no time to have a shower or take
the tape off his hands, or make himself more presentable for her somehow. She d have to take him as
is.
His heart beat like a drum as he went back down the hallway to wait by the front door of his
apartment for her.
Fucking idiot. It s like this is your first date.
Yeah, well, maybe it was. He hadn t been out on any other dates before, had he? At least not with a
woman who really mattered to him.
The knock, when it came, was soft, and when he pulled it open she gave a little start, as if she
wasn t expecting him to answer so quickly. Her eyes widened slightly as she took him in, standing
there shirtless and sweaty.
Oh, I& Sorry, am I interrupting? Her pale fingers shifted on the handle of her briefcase, her
attention dropping to his taped knuckles. She frowned. Shit, Luc. You re bleeding.
He didn t want to explain. Because that would mean telling her he spent a good portion of most
days punching a bag till his hands hurt and his muscles burned, to remind himself he was alive. It s
nothing, he said curtly instead. Punching-bag accident. Come in. And he held the door open for
her, standing aside so she could enter.
She didn t say anything, but her gaze flickered down his body as she went past him and into the
apartment, as if she couldn t help herself. And naturally enough his fucking cock started getting hard.
Jesus, he hadn t really planned on what was going to happen when she got here, mainly because he
hadn t known if she would come or not. He very much wanted to head straight into Dom mode and
take what was his, but his gut wasn t so sure.
There was a nervous look to her, as if she wasn t sure about being here, and he suspected that if he
started giving out orders now, she d bolt. Perhaps it was better to wait and see.
He shut the door behind her then followed her down the hall and into the lounge, hitching a
shoulder against the doorframe as she came to a stop in the middle of the room, looking around.
His lounge area was large and airy, windows giving views out over Auckland s blue harbor. It
was dark now, the lights of boats on the water twinkling, the graceful crescent of the harbor bridge off
to the left. But the room was as bare as the rest of the apartment, the only piece of furniture a long
leather sectional sofa his grandparents had given him. There was nothing else because he had nothing
else except books and a set of Bluetooth speakers sitting on the floor that he used with his MP3
player. Oh yeah, and the set of boxes stacked neatly in one corner. Boxes of belongings he hadn t
unpacked. Not that he ever would unpack them since they were his parents , not his. It was a little
strange to keep them, but his grandparents had wanted him to have them, so he had.
A lover had once told him he should get some pictures, decorate the place, but he hadn t seen the
point in that kind of shit. The apartment was only a place to store his crap, eat in when he could be
bothered to cook, which wasn t often, work out and sleep. That was it.
I need to get cleaned up, take a shower, he said. Can I get you a drink while you wait?
Yes, okay. She put down her briefcase near the sofa. What have you got?
Beer. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]