“Watching you eat was a sexual experience I’m looking forward to again.”
“Brand,” I beg.
“Aria,” he challenges.
My body tenses. “You seem nice enough now that you’ve gotten over your initial irritability. I hope you have a nice life.”
“My life has been a pain in the ass recently, but things are looking up now that I’m focused on my mental health. I have high hopes, thanks to my new psychologist.”
Shit. I need to put an end to this. Once and for all.
“Goodbye, Brand.”
Grabbing his splayed hand below my breasts, I unglue him from my body. It takes all my energy to turn the knob and push my door open, but I manage, and don’t look back.
Muppet attacks me, but I push him back and slam the door in Brand’s face, fumbling with both flimsy locks that wouldn’t deter a mouse if it wanted in badly enough.
I just hope he’s smart and doesn’t follow through. Because, after tonight, I have no doubt what Brand wants, Brand gets.
Kicking my shoes off, I silently pad through my apartment to my bedroom with Muppet on my heels. I lock us in, putting one more barrier between me and the man I never should’ve provoked.
Muppet digs in his dog bed and starts turning circles.
I fall to my mattress and cross my thighs over my drenched thong. I haven’t felt this way in … in …
I don’t know when.
Ever?
I try to calm my heart, but the pulse between my legs refuses to cooperate.
Brand Vitale is a force. I had a feeling he might be after he barked his first word to me at the auction. He’s the type of intensity I don’t need in my life right now.
But his eyes.
His body.
His hands.
The way he surrounded me just moments ago almost made the rest of the world melt away. No one has ever come close to doing that for me. It was freeing, and had I not untangled myself from his touch when I did, I might’ve let him have his way with me…
Even yank my dress to my waist and do whatever he wanted right in the breezeway for all my creepy neighbors to see. How can being confined and utterly surrounded by an almost stranger feel so liberating?
Lord knows, the world is heavier than an anvil bearing down on my shoulders right now. I could use the escape.
I open my eyes and stare at the cracked ceiling of my bedroom as my body wars with my head.
The last thing I need is a fantasy mingling with a dreary reality.
But this pulse…
I raise my feet to the bed and allow my knees to fall apart. I rip my thong to the side and groan as I imagine my fingers are his. My other hand mauls my breast the way his was itching to—I could sense it.
I imagine his dark eyes studying me, turning molten as he focuses between my legs. My clit—needy and swollen and begging him for more.
My ears tunnel and I barely hear myself gasp, my fingers moving relentlessly, wishing they were his. That the cock he just teased me with was bare, hard, and ready to pound into me until I was so sore, I couldn’t walk.
I come.
For the first time in a long time.
And definitely for the first time fantasizing about someone.
Without taking my hand from between my legs, I roll to my side.
As my heart calms, I realize what I’ve done.
“Damn, Aria,” I admit to no one but myself and Muppet. “How many lines are you going to cross before this explodes in your face?”
Juggling my bags and largest travel mug, I trudge down the stairs to the parking lot.
After the most surreal dinner in the history of meals, and then ashamed of fantasizing about a man I should be running away from, sleep was better than I thought it could be. Even with my frayed nerves, I didn’t have to run miles to pass out. The fantasy, the orgasm, and the filet proved to be the cocktail I needed for a good night’s sleep.
That doesn’t mean I should’ve ever agreed to dinner in the first place. All it took was dipping one toe into the cyclone, and now I’m lost and dizzy and have no sense of direction.
I need to stop making excuses—I have to find my way out. The longer I ride this twister, the harder it’ll be to make it out unscathed.
I’m almost across the parking lot to my car when two men dressed in off-the-rack sport coats and dockers exit the car parked next to mine.
“Ms. Dillon?”
I stop in my tracks and step back three paces. “Who are you?”
One of them reaches inside the breast of his jacket and produces a badge. I can’t read it from where I’m standing, but it does come with a set of credentials. “Detective Trudeau from Redmond PD. This is my partner, Detective Osborne. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
I hitch my strap up my arm and try to calm my speeding heart. “About what?”
Officer Osborne tucks his badge back into his pocket. “Your association with Brando Vitale, Jr.”
For once, I allow my expression to define my true feelings, because surprised is an understatement. “I don’t have an association with him. I only met him a couple days ago.”
They give each other a look before Trudeau adds, “If you could follow us to the station, this shouldn’t take long, Ms. Dillon.”
“Doctor,” I correct. “And I have patients scheduled back-to-back today.” Not to mention my own emergency session at lunch. I’m now going to need it more than ever.
“Dr. Dillon, this is important. We’d appreciate it if you could shift your schedule for us.”
I move around them and flip the locks on my car. “I don’t have to answer anything.”
“Is Mr. Vitale one of your patients?”
I turn in my open door and tell the truth. “No, but even so, I refuse to blindly go to the police station to be questioned about someone I hardly know when you haven’t told me what this is about. I respect my patients’ time and won’t disrupt their schedules while you’re being vague.”
“Dr. Dillon.” Detective Trudeau takes one step closer. “We should have specified. We’re from homicide. We’ve been working on an unsolved murder for months.”
I lean into my car door for support. “Whose murder?”
“Mrs. Marcia Vitale. Brando Vitale’s wife.”
9
Lies
Aria
I only sort of lied when I told Brand why I moved to Redmond.
It’s true I took the only position that offered a small student loan forgiveness program. The reimbursement isn’t life-changing. But when I’m carrying six years of graduate and doctoral loans, I couldn’t turn it down.
The full truth is, my offer from the center was the farthest I had from Miami. For Briar and me, Redmond was our ticket out from under the very sticky thumb of our father. I grabbed my sister and we got as far away from Florida as we possibly could. He knows where we are, but he also knows to leave us the hell alone. All she and I have are each other, we don’t need his toxicity.
I love nature and being outside. Briar loves the clouds and rain. She lived with me until she found a job that makes her happy with Redmond Rescue. She prefers animals over humans any day of the week. Now she lives five minutes from me in an apartment that makes mine look like the mansion we were raised in. But for the first time in her life, she’s independent and happy… ish.