Vipers and Virtuosos (Monsters & Muses, #2)(41)

Afraid that he’ll come back, and decide my friendship is no longer good enough.

My shaky hand grips the doorknob, tightening around the black metal until my fingers ache, but then he’s turning the engine on and driving away.

Sagging against the door, I allow myself a chance to revel in the relief. Living on my own has come with its own set of obstacles and learning to curb my fears of being attacked again is high on that list.

A pang shoots through my chest, terror trying to solidify in my soul, but I tamp it down and take the stairs two at a time. Pushing open the door to the master bedroom, I go straight for the en suite and let the porcelain Jacuzzi fill up.

While I wait, I strip out of my clothes, pausing in the full-length mirror beside my dresser. With a makeup remover wipe, I slowly clean my face, touching the jagged lines of pale flesh.

The slivers, a sharp stroke against my cheekbone and a slash at the corner of my mouth, are still rough and tender to the touch, but they’re finally beginning to fade.

My gaze drops, along with my hands, and I slide my fingers over my hip, wincing at the way that gash looks; it’s messy, the tissue raised and sensitive and darker than the marks on my face.

It’s ugly, and I can only imagine the memory attached is even worse, so for a moment, I’m grateful that those images are just out of reach.

Grabbing my purple silk robe from where it hangs on the mirror, I wrap it around myself, dousing my shame before it can finish crawling up my neck.

Holding the tie against my waist, I walk to the nightstand beside my bed and pull open the drawer, biting my bottom lip as I stare down at the contents.

The birthday gift from Fiona stares back at me, still in its box and wrapped in cellophane. Swallowing over the sudden dryness in my throat, I reach in and pull it out, opening it quickly.

My cheeks heat, embarrassment pressing down on my chest, as if there’s a chance someone might see me use it. My thumb finds the button on the wand, and it roars to life, vibrating violently where it rests against my thigh.

At the same time, my gaze lifts, catching movement through the window; immediately, I’m drawn to the second story in the cabin across the lake, my entire body hollowing out.

Lungs on fire, I can’t stop my breathing from growing sporadic or the anxiety from flooding my chest. Scanning every window in the house, though, I come up short again with nothing but the light rustling of the aspen trees surrounding us to focus on.

You’re being ridiculous, Riley. There’s no one out there. No one is coming for you.

No one knows you’re here.

For some reason, I can’t shake the eerie feeling, or stop it from mixing with something else—disappointment.

Still, if it were someone coming to kill me, they’d likely have already done it.

If it were someone representing Aiden James, I don’t know why they’d be across the lake and not hauling me in for questioning.

My heart thumps sadly at the thought of how badly I fucked up there. How I wish I’d never gone on that class trip or met him in the first place.

How I wish I’d let him do more to me that night in the tattoo shop.

Switching off the toy, I grip it in my palm and stand up, closing the curtains before going back to the bathroom.

And when I sink to the bottom of the tub, fitting the pulsating tip of the wand between my thighs, I fantasize about the man with the gray eyes, wishing I hadn’t ruined his life.





20





I’m hearing things.

I have to be.

There’s no other explanation as to why my name would be coming from beyond the closed bathroom door.

Waiting with my ear pressed to the wood, I hold my breath, straining for more.

Another breathy moan slips beneath the crack where light shines through; paired with the sound of water lapping at naked flesh, and my dick is already hardening behind my zipper.

But still, I wait.

A buzzing sound fills the air and my hand inches toward the doorknob. My rings clink against the fixture, my fingers clutching but not turning.

Not yet, anyway.

That same sensation I got when I saw Riley for the first time, across the room at the charity event, washes over me. The elation of, for once in my life, being on the giving end of speculation.

Of watching, rather than being watched.

It’s fucking freeing.

Heady and intoxicating in a way that almost makes me sympathetic to the paparazzi vultures.

Or maybe it’s just her making me feel this way.

“Oh…” Comes her deceptively sweet voice, and I reach my free hand into my pocket, popping a peppermint into my mouth. “Oh, god.”

Rolling the candy around with my tongue, I ignore the urge to burst inside and demand she not call out for someone who isn’t me.

The invisible man in the sky has nothing on the things I could make her scream, but if she’d like a proper introduction, I’d be happy to help out.

Biting down on the peppermint until it shatters, I shake my head and release the knob, taking three giant steps back. My boots are soft on the carpet, leaving just enough of a trace on the beige shag to freak her out.

My sweet little angel is nothing if not paranoid, always peering over her shoulder, as if she expects trouble to find her at any moment.

I can’t imagine my finding her was ever on her radar, which is going to make the look on her face so much more delicious.