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Asa loved me. He wanted me. And I…panicked like a cat tossed into bathwater.
“This is why Clay didn’t want us getting involved.” I clasped one of his palms, spun on my heel, and hauled him after me. “I’m a bad influence on you. You’re a bad influence on me. One of these days, we’re going to strip naked in a hag nest and do the nasty in front of a live audience if we don’t get this under control.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“Performance art?” I snorted. “Been there, done that. There were no T-shirts. Because we were naked.”
“Interesting.”
“It’s really not.” I decided it was easier to talk about intimate situations with him behind me. “I can’t imagine wanting to share that with another person, or a whole group of them, if it meant something.” I felt obligated to joke, to lighten the truth. “Don’t get me wrong, the cheering is very motivational, and you do learn a lot when you’re surrounded by instructors convinced the harder you orgasm, the bigger the percussive magical burst at the end, but it’s hollow. Transactional.”
“What I meant was, you’re a private person. It’s surprising you would agree to put yourself on display.”
“That’s the difference.” We cut a sharp corner. “You know Rue. You didn’t know who I was, you don’t have a clue how bad it can get. I’m an addict, Asa. Don’t fool yourself. I’m recovering, but I can always backslide. I could be that person again. The exhibitionist. The temptress.”
The power-hungry maniac willing to punch through ribs to reach a juicy treat.
“Addiction makes a mockery of who we are and twists us into the worst versions of ourselves.” I exhaled. “I don’t know why I told you any of that. It can’t be appealing to hear me talk about how willing I was to trade sex for power.”
The joint in my shoulder popped when he quit walking while I simultaneously kicked into a higher gear. Before I could yelp, he spun me around, into his arms, and lowered his mouth to mine in a claiming I felt down to my black soul.
“You don’t have to be perfect.” He kissed a line across my jaw. “You just have to be mine.”
Tears scalded the backs of my eyes at his easy acceptance of my past, and I wanted to shake him awake, force him to look at me, to see the reality of me, but I also wanted to blindfold him. I wanted him to keep his idealistic view of me, to light up whenever he saw me, to always believe the best in me.
Worst of all, I wanted him to know me. Past me, present me, future me. I wanted him to understand. And I wanted him to want me anyway. To keep loving me, despite it.
“And, Rue?” His teeth closed over my carotid, and I stuttered a gasp. “I won’t share you.”
“Forever is a long time,” I rasped, hating how I always fought to contradict him.
“Not nearly long enough. Not for me.” He licked across my collarbones. “Not for us.”
A shuddering exhale moved through me as my head spun and knees wobbled under me.
“When you take me, and you will, it will be you and me.” He bit hard enough to bruise. “Always.”
When you take me…
A whimper passed my lips that he devoured, and again I saw the gleam of horns in the streetlights.
Shoving away from him, afraid he might have been seen, I whisper-screamed, “You’re horny.”
“Yes.” His teeth glinted. “I am.”
“No.” I gestured to his head. “Horny.”
“I am.”
“You don’t get it.” Throwing caution to the wind, I gripped one black curve. “Your horns are out, Asa.”
A full-body shudder rocked him when I traced the ridges with my thumb to make my point.
“I thought you liked them,” he panted, breathless. “I did it for you.”
“Oh.” I dropped my hand. “I thought you were really into the moment and your glamour shorted out.”
“I was into it.” His chest pumped hard. “Which is why I elected to seduce you with my horns.”
