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Even though I had no real reason to believe he would.
His face never changed. When I was done, the room went completely silent. My whole body burned, itching for him to speak. After a while, he released a breath and met my gaze.
There was violence in his eyes. Tempered, bridled. But there all the same.
I blinked, taken aback.
“Merrick,” I whispered.
He rose and paced across the room and paced back. Then he went to the bar cart in the corner and poured a drink.
“He stopped when you asked him to, right?” he said evenly.
“Yes, Osian hasn’t done anything,” I said. “That wasn’t the point of what I was saying. He respects my refusal and he hasn’t pushed me to do anything I didn’t consent to.”
He raised the glass to his mouth. Usually I could read Merrick pretty well, but there were so many mixed signals coming off him I didn’t have a hope of understanding what was locked inside his head.
“I understand what you’re telling me,” he said. “You’ve been taught that sex is unsafe. That it’s…rough.”
I swallowed.
“I’m sorry for that, Clara. You shouldn’t have to fear intimacy.”
I emptied my wine. If I hadn’t been so tired and tipsy, I wouldn’t have had the courage to ask him the question bouncing around in my head.
“Is it for you?”
My voice was barely audible, but he heard me. And he froze. The bare skin at the base of his throat flushed. His chest expanded, filling out his shirt even more. Showing every curve of his pecs.
“What?”
Tears threatened to fall. Pushing against my lids.
“Are you rough when you sleep with women?” I whispered.
His mouth parted. An eon passed in the front room of Merrick’s house. He worked his jaw, glancing down and back up again.
“Do you want the honest answer to that?”
“I want the truth.”
“Sex is complicated, Clara,” he said, his voice hoarse. “There are a lot of different ways to be intimate with someone. I’d like to think that I’m gentle. I…I like giving pleasure over getting it. But there have been times in my life when, under the right consensual circumstances, I have been quite…rough.”
I swallowed, unsure what exactly he meant.
“But rough sex isn’t appropriate for someone’s first time,” he said firmly. “Do you know the man Candice slept with?”
I nodded.
“Who was he?”
“Am I signing his death sentence by telling you?”
“I just want to talk to him.”
“You should ask Candice about it then.”
His broad jaw worked, dusky with stubble. In the darkness, when he turned his head, his profile was stark. Strong chin, straight bridged nose, thin mouth, thick lashes.
