Exodus (The Ravenhood #2)(43)

“Sexually, for me, it started like a college phase. I’d only slept with two other boyfriends before I met them.”

“You weren’t in college.”

“It’s an expression.”

“I know the expression,” he replies with an edge. But the look in his eyes isn’t condemnation. It’s curiosity.

“I know I’m not the first woman they shared, so don’t think relaying that will make a damn dent in me. And don’t be such a prude. Wasn’t it the French who coined the term ménage à trois?”

His eyes narrow to slits.

“Come on. I’ve been on the receiving end of you. I know you aren’t a saint.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why does it matter?”

He stares at me with expectancy.

“If you get this from me, I want something from you.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I lift my hand. “And it’s got to be good. A real confession.”

He smirks, his expression boyish, and I soak it in knowing all too well this is a side of him he rarely reveals. His guard is down, even if it’s drug-induced. “When I was twenty-one, I slept with every woman in the June edition of a French lingerie catalog.”

Maybe I didn’t need that confession.

His lips turn up at my reaction.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not jealous, I’m…”

“Judging?”

“No. But exactly how many girls was that?”

“It was a boutique.”

“You aren’t joking.”

He slowly shakes his head, and his lips press together like he’s trying to hide a threatening smile.

“How is that even possible?”

“I was bored.”

“You were…bored.”

“Yes.” He shrugs. “But it was just the once.” His accent makes his comment almost comical. Almost.

“So, what, the other eleven calendar months didn’t appeal to you?”

“It was a college phase,” he supplies blandly.

“Well,” I clear my throat, “there you go.” I move to turn off the light, and he stops me.

“That answers nothing.”

Positioning my legs to sit crisscross style, I sit and scowl at him. “You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.”

“Don’t you already? Aren’t you the one who mapped my life up until now—my motives?”

Silence.

I gaze over at him as he adjusts himself on the pillow, his sculpted arm bulging as he does. I uncap the water on my nightstand with the image of Tobias, ten years younger, alone in a hotel room with naked lingerie models.

And in a sick, possessive way, it turns me on.

His eyes light in recognition as he dips his hand between my thighs, and I swat it away. A knowing chuckle leaves his lips, and my cheeks flame.

“Let’s just go to bed.” I again move to reach for the lamp, and he grips my wrist in a silent order. I meet his eyes and sigh.

“Fine. When I got here, I realized no one knew me. It was a chance to reinvent myself. So I decided to live it up and let myself go. Like you said, I was pissed at Roman for stealing a year of my life and feeling a bit rebellious. I gained my freedom as you so cleverly pointed out. When I met Sean, it was as if the universe had handed me an invitation. It was an instant attraction with him. We clicked both physically and spiritually, but Dominic hated me from the start.”

He looks up at me in silent urging—permission. I’m a fool for freely giving the devil more of my details.

“I trusted Sean because he took his time, he earned it from me, so when he said he recognized my attraction for Dominic and told me he wouldn’t judge me if I acted on it, I permitted myself. I trusted Sean enough with my body and heart to explore with him. I was already falling for him and had a hate/lust relationship with Dominic. After it happened, we just…grew into more. I got to know them both inside and out, and neither one of them made me feel bad about it. We all just sort of fell into place, together.”

Tentatively, Tobias lifts his fingers to brush the damp hair away from my shoulders, the act so intimate. I shiver involuntarily, trying desperately not to get lost in the look in his eyes.

“I will say, it went against my nature, it bothered me a lot more than I let on—at first—but the more we grew, the more I couldn’t imagine…didn’t want to think about giving either of them up. And they didn’t force me to choose. We were all okay with it. In fact, we were happy, until they…”

Tears threaten, and in a flash, I’m back in that garage, living some of the most painful seconds of my life. Tobias grips my chin in his hands. “Until they what?”

“They called me a whore in a roundabout and very fucked up way. Have you ever heard the song “Cecilia” by Simon and Garfunkel?”

He shakes his head.

“Well, it’s about a promiscuous girl, and the lyrics are degrading. That’s how they ended it with me. They played that song when I showed up to the garage and humiliated me publicly, to try and get the message to you that they were playing me. So, they tore me to shreds in a way they knew would work. And it did. I got the message, even if you didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever known pain like that, ever.”