Page 61 of Taint My Soul

And all of a sudden, after all these years of keeping this part of me locked away, of trying to move on from everything that happened. It all falls apart.

And a man I shouldn’t even give a fuck about sees it all so easily.

I fucking hate that.

I fucking hate that he sees it all.

He sees it in my eyes.

And I hate him for it, too.

Hands rest around my shoulders, and I jerk up, getting off the stool and looking at the three men around me. Then my eyes rest on the man whose tongue Saint cut off. He’s brought his soldiers to fight for him.

“That’s him?”

He nods with a whimper.

The three men don’t hesitate. Before my mind registers what’s happening, their large hands circle my arms, and they drag me away from the chaos of the party. My boots scuff the floor as we head toward the elevator. They shove me into the enclosed space, and my back hits the steel wall, a grunt tearing through my vocal cords.

As the elevator ascends to the next floor, I fucking realize that I’m in deep trouble.

SAINT

I slam the car door as I get into the dim space. I grip the steering wheel to support myself. I shut my eyes and lean backward, hoping that everything that happened a few minutes ago was in my head, that I said none of those things to him. That I didn’t break in front of him.

I hate what you do to me. Because no man has ever done that to me. And I have never felt this way with any man. And I hate myself for it. I hate that I’m weak. I hate that I’m sick.

My mind replays every brutal sentence. Word after word. Breath after breath. The look in his eyes. The way his heart beat in sync with mine.

Mason does something to me.

Mason makes me feel alive again.

I hate feeling alive. Feeling alive made my father break my spirit. Feeling alive made me lose my father shortly after my mother passed away. Feeling alive has broken me time and time again.

I’m better off dead. I’m better off as a soldier. I’m better off as my father’s successor.

Putting my family’s legacy first should matter most to me. Not some man who stumbled into my life. Not some man who has made me question everything that I pretended didn’t exist for the past twenty years.

Not the man who held me in that elevator, even when I broke into pieces.

He never looked at me differently.

He never laughed in my face for falling apart.

He held me together.

Even when I’ve been nothing but an asshole to him.

Why now? Now of all times. Now I’m so close to having it all. Of having an empire made for me. Of stepping into my legacy.

My focus should be on closing deals and fishing out the culprits trying to ruin my family. Not this. Not fucking him. But he’s all that’s in my head.

And I’m not supposed to want anything other than what I’m told to want.

I’m not supposed to want a man. I’m not supposed to want anything beyond taking what I need, beyond satisfying my homoerotic cravings.

That’s all it has always been about. The next fuck. The next man to bend over and consume.