“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly.
Silas smiles humorlessly and lifts his free hand to my face, cupping my cheek tenderly despite the fury in his eyes.
“You don’t know, huh?” He murmurs. His thumb brushes over my lip, and my breathing accelerates. I can’t think straight when he’s this close. “He told me you two had an argument, and he wants a chance to make it up to you. Ryan all but begged me to let him join the Ψ division. He doesn’t seem to be under the impression that you two are over.”
Silas’s fingers slowly trail from my cheek to my ear before he tangles them through my hair. He tightens his grip and tilts my face toward his, making my body arch toward him until my breasts brush against his chest. “You saw the text I sent him,” I remind him. “I broke up with him before you took me home. I swear.” There isn’t just anger in his eyes, there’s pain, too. I can deal with his anger, but I can’t stand the thought of hurting him. It’s irrational, and it’s crazy, but my heart aches when he looks at me that way.
Silas takes a step toward me, pressing his body against mine so I’m fully trapped between him and the door behind me. “I did see that text, but I have no idea what you’ve said to him since.”
I look into his eyes, trying to decipher his expression. “Why do you care?” I ask, my voice soft. “Even if I get back together with Ryan, why do you care?”
“You won’t.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What makes you so sure? He and I have history together.”
“History,” he repeats mockingly, his tone low and angry. “You want to know why I’m so sure, baby?”
I nod against better judgement, and Silas smiles. He untangles his hand from my hair and smirks as his fingers trail over my neck, down to my collarbone, until he’s brushing over my nipples. I bite down on my lip, resisting the urge to arch my back in a silent plea for more. “It’s because he can’t fuck you like I can. After being with me, you won’t go back to him.” I feel him harden against me, and my pussy clenches at the memory of him inside me. “Your body won’t let you. You’re standing here in my office, your pussy soaking wet for me when I’ve barely even touched you. You pretend you want to forget about that night, but you can’t. It replays in your mind, over and over again, just like it does in mine. That’s why you won’t go back to him. The question is… have you made that clear to him?”
I laugh nervously and try my hardest to control my breathing. He’s right. I haven’t been able to look at him without wanting him, and I’m not even remotely thinking of getting back with Ryan. Even worse, I’m not even heartbroken when I should be. Silas consumes all of my thoughts, making the pain fade away. “You’re so full of yourself. I haven’t thought about you once since that night, and no, Silas, I’m not wet for you. If anything, I’m just embarrassed on your behalf.”
He chuckles, some of his earlier anger replaced by lust. He leans into me, his lips brushing over my ear. “Your nipples are so hard, I can feel them straight through your bra,” he whispers. “The next time you want to pretend you don’t want me, make sure your body isn’t betraying you.”
He pulls away, looking far too pleased with himself, and I cross my arms, hiding my goddamned traitorous nipples from him. Silas smiles at me, and there’s something about that smile that hits me right in the chest. His earlier worries seem gone, and I shouldn’t care about that, but I do. Something about our interaction just now set him at ease, and I really shouldn’t encourage this, but I’m just relieved he’s no longer angry.
“Come on,” he says. “You’re attending a meeting with me. After that, I’ll brief you on your first project.”
He smirks as he walks back to his desk to grab his briefcase, and I stare at his back. Silas Sinclair… he’ll be the death of me, and I’m scared I’ll go willingly.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Alanna
I frown when I notice the pile of clothes at the entrance of my building. This… this is all mine. Why the hell are my clothes on the street? I bend down to pick up as much as I can, only to freeze in shock when my landlord walks out of the building carrying a box filled with my belongings. “Mr. Smith?” I ask, confused. “What is going on?”
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m going to have to evict you.”