She takes a deep breath and says, “You must have confused me for some other woman.”
Waylen laughs and asks, “Really?”
Leilani nods and walks toward the door, trying to preserve her dignity. She pulls it open but freezes as Waylen’s voice fills the room.
“I’ve only ever had one woman: you,” Waylen says. “It was only you in the past, only you now, and it’ll only be you in the future. Do you remember when I asked you to hit me four times when the snake bit me? You didn’t do it then, but I want you to do it now.”
Leilani spins around in shock, but Waylen’s mouth isn’t moving. His lips are turned up in a smirk, but he’s not talking. He holds something small above his head—the recording pen. She lunges toward him and tries to grab it.
“Give it back!” she shouts.
“Oh, is this yours?” Waylen asks, twirling the pen between his fingers.
“Yes, it’s mine,” she says.
“If it’s yours, why does it have my voice?” Waylen asks.
“I didn’t have time to delete it,” Leilani lies.
“Then delete it now,” he says.
He balances the pen on his open palm and offers it to her. She reaches for it, but he snatches it away before she can take it. He grabs her arm and pulls her toward him.
She stumbles and falls against his bare chest, and he staggers backward onto the couch. He lands on his back, and she lands on his chest—her face just inches from his warm neck.
“Throwing yourself into my arms, are you?” he asks.
She glares at him and tries to get up. She swings her leg over him, careful to avoid loosening the towel around his h.i.p.s. Before she realizes what’s happening, her back is flat against the sofa, and his body is against hers. She looks up at him breathlessly and tries to move, but she can’t. With one hand, he pins her arms above her head, and with the other, he presses play on the recording pen.
He plays the entire recording. Leilani looks up at him—his mouth is serious, but there’s a strange, almost frenzied light in his eyes. The recording ends, and he plays it again. And then again. Leilani wonders if he’s going to keep her there all night.
“So why didn’t you delete it, hmm?” Waylen asks. “I think it’s because you listen to it every day. Do you listen to it at night before you meet Andrew in bed? Do you pretend it’s me when he makes love to you?”
“Of course not,” Leilani says, trying to stay calm. “You have a very rich imagination, though. Now please, let me go.”
Waylen smiles and presses a button on the pen. The recording stops, and the speaker on the pen crackles. A mechanical voice says, “This recording has been played 99 times.”
“Did I imagine that voice just now?” Waylen asks. “We’ve just listened to it three or four times. So how do you explain the other 95?”
Leilani feels her face go red with embarrassment. Have I really listened to it almost 100 times? She thinks. I had no idea the pen kept track of the playback. This is so embarrassing.
Leilani turns her head to the side and whispers, “I was playing the recording you made for Nanny. I must have accidentally pressed the wrong button or something.”
“You’re telling me you pressed the wrong button 99 times?” Waylen asks. “Come on, Leilani—if you’re going to lie, try harder.”
Leilani looks beyond Waylen’s shoulder. The escort is standing a few feet from the sofa, watching jealousy. She sees Leilani looking at her and rolls her eyes dramatically. Waylen turns to see what she’s looking at, and his body tenses with anger.
“You’re still here?” Waylen shouts. “Get out!”
The escort pouts and starts looking for her clothing. She grabs a heel and her bra and crosses the room to grab her dress.
“I thought I told you to go,” Waylen says, his voice low and dangerous.
The escort pales and runs from the room. She pauses at the door, shooting a nasty look at Leilani before she leaves. As soon as the door closes, Waylen turns back to Leilani.
“What do you want to hear?” Leilani asks, trying to make her voice as cold and sarcastic as possible. “Do you want me to tell you I was scared I would forget the sound of your voice? Or maybe you want me to tell you that it’s the only thing that makes the pain of missing you easier to bear? Or maybe I can say your voice fills the giant void of heartache inside me?”
She closes her eyes to avoid Waylen’s gaze. His eyes are intense and searching, and she’s afraid he’ll see through her faked indifference. It’s all true—everything I just said is true, she thinks. But I can’t tell him that. Still, it feels cruel to mock him like this.
“Why else would you listen to it so many times?” he asks.
“Why do you assume I listened to it on my own?” she asks.
Waylen tightens his grip on her wrist until she’s worried the bone might break. She gasps in pain and opens her eyes. His face is inches from hers, and his breath is hot and ragged.
“Andrew wants me to tell you that your recording is a terrible cliché,” she says, implying she and Andrew listened to it to make fun of him.
“If it’s such a terrible cliché, why did he listen to it 100 times?” Waylen asks. “And why does he let you bring it everywhere you go?”
“I think he enjoys conquering a woman you have feelings for,” Leilani says.
Waylen’s face is icy and determined, and he grips her wrists even harder. He clearly has no intention of letting her go.
“Are you satisfied with my explanation?” Leilani asks. “If so, please let me go. My fiancé is waiting for me in our room.”
She emphasizes the word fiancé to make him jealous. Judging by his murderous look, it works. She struggles, but she can’t move even an inch. His strength is overwhelming.
“If you’re so worried about your fiancé, why did you come here?” Waylen asks. “Are you looking for a little fun on the side?”
“No, I’m not,” Leilani snaps. “I came here for my purse.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Waylen says, smiling down at her. “Why did you come here before? Why did you let me f.u.c.k you against the door?”
“Almost f.u.c.k,” Leilani corrects him.
His smile gets wide, and he lowers her head until the tip of his nose brushes hers. His breath is hot and minty on her face. She knows she should turn her head away, but she can’t force herself to do it—her body is surrendering to him.
“It’s not like that,” she says. “I thought the room was empty, I was—”
Waylen kisses the rest of her sentence away. His lips are firm and violent against hers; he bites her lower lip and thrusts his tongue into her mouth. She m.o.a.ns and moves her tongue to meet his. He releases her hands, and she runs her fingers through his hair and down his back.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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