“Get. Out.” He grits, pushing me backwards through the open doorframe before kicking the door shut.
Fuck, Ihatethis man.
Collapsing onto the couch, I cover my face with my arm. Why the hell did I even go in there? Doug climbs onto the couch, and I attempt to shove him off, but he lays his solid body on top of mine, squeezing the air from my lungs.
“Geez, Dougy. You’re squashing me.” I say, scratching behind his ears. He just releases a sigh.
The heavy thud of footsteps sounds down the hallway, and my eyes snap open. I don’t look away from the ceiling, counting the boards one by one in an attempt to disappear from his view. He shuffles around in the kitchen, and I listen to the cacophony of glasses clinking, water running, and cabinet doors closing, knowing there’s still some distance between us for only a moment. He comes into the living room, sitting in the chair across from me in a pair of sweats hung low on his hips. Apparently, there’s no need for him to bother with a shirt since I’ve seen more than enough of his body now. His gaze sears into me even though I'm not looking his way.
“Sit up, Vanessa. We need to talk.” He demands. I huff out a breath, swinging my legs down and sitting up. Hugging a pillow to my chest, I let my head fall back, staring back at the ceiling. For the life of me, I cannot look this man in the face. Not after I’ve been inches from his magnificent dick and then tossed out of the room like trash.
“Knock it off. Look at me. We’re both adults here. You felt adult enough to barge into my private bedroom, I think you can be adult enough to have a conversation while looking me in the eye.” he says, and I groan, finally meeting his eyes. My face flushes immediately. Heat floods through my body, but this time I stand my ground.
“I’m sorry, okay? I just…I’m sorry,” I throw up my hands, and Doug scoots his head into my lap.
“How’s your nose? Your head?” He asks, and I flinch, embarrassment evident on my face, I’m sure.
“I’ll be fine.” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Very well. Please explain what brought you to my door last night.” He asks, and my stomach drops.
“Someone was in my house again. I know you and my friends all think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I don’t lock Doug out of the bedroom. Not ever. But he was locked out again. And things around my house are moved when I wake up. There’s just this sense of…I don’t know. It’s like I can feel him there.” The last words come out in almost a whisper, and I’m embarrassed by the way it makes me feel. I hate the confusion I feel every time my masked man creeps into my home.
“And what do you feel?” he asks, an intrigued look on his face.
I squirm under his gaze. I don’t even want to admit to myself what I feel when the masked man touches me, much less tell Sebastian. So, I do the only thing I can in this moment. I lie.
“Fear. I’m scared.” My tone is clipped, and I look away, not able to lie to his face as easily as I thought.
“And?” he pushes, and I shift in my seat. Doug groans, my movements annoying him.
“And what? What do you want me to say, Sebastian? I don’t want this person in my house. I don’t want this person to potentially follow me to my friends’ houses and put their children in danger. You were the only person I could think of who seemed like a safe place I could turn to.” I reply, hopeful he will drop this subject.
“What do you know about this man, Vanessa?” He asks, pulling out his phone.
“Nothing. Honestly, it feels like less than nothing. I know his mask isn’t normal, like a burglar’s or anything like that. It’s more…ornate. Delicate. Like something I made up in a dream. The only thing I can ever see is his mouth. It’s not covered. And his eyes. I can see them, even though they’re obscured. I canfeelthem on my skin. He feels like he wants to hurt me and worship me all at once.” I say, losing myself in the memories of the masked man.
“Maybe he does,” Sebastian’s deep voice cuts through the fog, pulling me back to reality.
“What? How can you say that?” I snap, and he smirks.
“Love and pain are two sides of the same blade. You can treasure someone as your most prized possession and still enjoy bringing them a little pain, Vanessa. If this man is real, maybe he enjoys bringing you such fear because it excites him.” He suggests, and an uncomfortable feeling brews inside my chest.
I don’t want to agree with what he's saying, but the idea stirs something within me I never thought I would feel. I’ve never entertained the desires inside me that always scream to be heard, to be unleashed and allowed to roam free. The realization grips me like a hand closing around my throat without anypressure, just the certainty it won’t let me go. As afraid as I am about someone creeping through my space in the middle of the night, I can’t deny the way it turns me on.
“I don’t-” I open my mouth to give him another bullshit excuse, but fire blazes in his eyes.
“Do not lie to me, Bambina. Do you think I’m some stupid boy, barely capable of recognizing the look of lust in your eyes just now? You crave that darkness, just as I and many others do. There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing is wrong with you. But do not look me in my face and feed me more lies about how much of agoodgirl you are, Vanessa. It doesn’t suit you. You want to be bad? Be bad. But you own it. Don’t tiptoe around the idea, don’t dabble, jump in with both feet and let it drag you into the depths of the darkness you crave. You may be surprised just how much you belong down here.” He smirks, and I want to deny the things he says, but I can’t.
He’s only saying out loud all the things I’ve been thinking as long as I’ve been old enough to experience any relationship. I’ve always been more than curious about the different ways pain and pleasure can mix in perfect harmony. But I’ve never felt comfortable admitting that even to myself.
“I can see by the emotions fighting for control in your eyes, I’ve given you so much to think about. You can stay here, although I believe you should have better security in your home. I’ll do my best to keep the door closed when I’m indisposed. Wouldn’t want to have another mishap, would we?” His devious smile tells me he’s getting far too much enjoyment from making me this uncomfortable, and I want to slap that stupid grin off his face. But he’s offering me his hospitality, and I don’t want to deny it.
“Thank you,” I grit through clenched teeth, my arms crossed over my chest like a petulant child.
“You’re welcome. I can’t imagine how many ways you’ll be at my mercy to show your thanks.” And just like that, the devil has brought me into his den. And I let him.
eleven