Page 152 of Lessons in Cruelty

Shouldn’t have bothered.

Bastian is more concerned with my tear-stained face than with my exposed ass.

“Talk to me.” He drops to a crouch, and even kneeling, he radiates dominance. The intensity in his dark eyes is too much to handle, so I look away.

“I had a bad dream.”

“About?” His thumb finds my knee through the sheet.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” The word is soft, almost affectionate. “Was it Kai?”

“No,” I scoff.

“So there’s someone else I should be worried about? Who?”

My breath catches. How does he always know?

“Stop psychoanalyzing⁠—”

“I’m not analyzing. I’m learning. Every tear, every flinch, every sharp breath tells me something about you.” His hand slides higher. “Repressed trauma can often⁠—”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” I snap, knocking away his hand with my arm.

My hand flies over my mouth, then slides up to my eyes. “Shit, sorry.”

Bastian grabs my thigh through the sheets bundled at my waist. “Haven, it’s okay. I told you I was a therapist. I’ve seen it all. I know you’re not angry at me. You’re just⁠—“

I keep my hands over my eyes because it makes it easier.

“I am angry at you,” I whisper. “I don’t know how to make this any clearer, Professor. I don’t want to talk about my past, and I certainly don’t want you psychoanalyzing me every five seconds, either. So stop pushing. Stop prying.”

The weight of his hand disappears.

I make the mistake of looking, thinking he’s walked away. But he’s standing right in front of me, and I get an eyeful of the bulge behind his towel.

It’s not just large. It’s obscene. It’s like he’s hiding a weapon under there.

My hand flies to my mouth. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t mean to⁠—“

“Yes, you did.” He shifts, and the towel slips lower on his hips, exposing more of the dark hair on his lower stomach. “Just like you meant to wear only my t-shirt to bed. Just like you kept flashing your ass at me on the couch last night.”

My face burns. “I did not⁠—”

“You did. Right after you asked if I was offering to fuck you properly.” His voice drops. “Offer still stands, by the way.”

I force myself to look away. There’s a vague memory of me saying that, but I don’t remember shit about flashing him. Just that I backtracked super fast and told him I was kidding.

He didn’t seem amused then.

He definitely doesn’t seem amused now.

“You’ve been very…hospitable…but I have to go,” I force through trembling lips.

The silence crystalizes around us until he scoffs quietly.

Definitely not amused.