Shame (Ruin #3) (7 page)

I tasted her lower lip again and abruptly dipped my tongue into her mouth. Then just as quickly retreated. “The human body is an instrument. Know how to master it… and well…” I let my voice drop as I moved my hands slowly to her shoulders and tugged her body flush against mine. Our mouths met softly at first. I deepened the kiss, memorizing her taste, knowing I wouldn’t experience a kiss like this again in my lifetime. The way her scent, her soft moans destroyed my body, wrecked me from the deepest part of me, was nothing short of life-altering.

And I’d like to think I’d kissed a lot of women.

I’d studied the psychology of sexuality.

I was an expert in pleasure.

But she was schooling me, absolutely wreaking havoc on every logical thought as her soft whimper cascaded over me. Blood surged through my body as it tightened with awareness at her proximity.

She pulled back, her lips swollen. “That was… not a good enough warning.”

Laughing softly, I cupped the back of her head and gently drew it toward mine and kissed her again, angling my lips differently, searching her, consuming her, drawing pleasure from her lips as if it was my life goal to discover every single secret she owned.

Her arms wrapped around my neck. She was shy; she didn’t push against me, didn’t wrap her legs around me or moan into my mouth like I was having sex with her rather than kissing her.

My hands moved down her corset to her hips, and I lifted her into the air and walked her backward toward the brick wall. The whole time, our masks collided. In frustration, I ripped hers off, then mine. The shadows of moonlight hid our faces as I kissed her harder, losing myself in her.

Her nails dug at the back of my neck as she jerked my head harder. Groaning, I let her fall to the ground as I placed my hands on the brick wall to keep myself from ripping the dress from her body.

Shouting started from the ballroom.

“Ten, nine…!”

“Eight,” I whispered against her mouth. “Seven.”

“Six.” She sighed, her breathing labored as her tongue found mine again. “Five.”

“Four, three.” I pulled back and trailed kisses down her neck.

“Two.”

We broke apart, both breathing heavy. “One.”

People burst out onto the balcony as the fireworks started, lighting up the sky. And our faces.

And the only thing I could say as she gasped in horror was “Oh, shit.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The pain completely stopped that night. I remember falling to the ground. I was smiling like a damn fool, and she was sobbing. I kept whispering, “Your fault, your fault…” when really I knew I was the one who’d taken the pills. But I also knew if she ever left me? I was as good as dead anyway. I needed to keep her with me at all costs. Even if it meant hurting her. See? I really did have to protect her from me, but in the end, I didn’t really want that. I was too selfish to want that. —
The Journal of Taylor B.

Lisa

I
COVERED MY
mouth with my hands and almost passed out on the spot. Mystery man was my professor; professor was my mystery man.

The very same person.

Mr. Blake.

Or Mr. Freaking Blake.

Holy crap. I needed professional help. The one guy I was able to kiss in over two years without wanting to puke, and it’s my
professor
?
REALLY
?

The one who hates me. Oh no, I even told him my professor was a prick.

Tristan’s eyes turned murderous as he whispered, “Oh shit,” then looked down at the ground, then back up at me.

My mouth was still hanging open, and lucky me, my lips were still swollen and tingling from our kisses.

Could I get kicked out of school? Could he lose his job?

“I should…” He shook his head. “…go. I should go.”

He looked like he wanted to stay, like he wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth again, all that came out were more curses. Funny, the mask had protected me, given me one night as the innocent princess who could have a kiss with a prince.

The minute the mask was pulled off...

He saw me for what I was.

Lisa, the notorious model, Melanie, who’d fallen off the face of the planet, changed her name, and couldn’t be on time to save her life.

I felt dirty, shameful, almost like he knew all my secrets, knew my past, even though I knew it was impossible.

With tears clouding my vision, I rushed past him and into the ballroom. The more I thought about the rejection, his horror-stricken face, the faster I walked, until I was full-on running. Wes and Gabe were on the far side of the room, glancing around, probably for me. I ducked through the nearest door I could find and caught my breath in the hallway.

“Well, well,” a deep voice said from behind me. “Has the slut finally discovered her prince?”

I turned around so fast my heel broke.

A leather-gloved hand covered my mouth. The man’s face was concealed with a full black mask, only there was no place for his lips, and where eyes should be, he had them covered in black material. His suit was black as well.

I tried to scream, but the leather glove muffled things.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, his voice grainy as if the mask was keeping it from coming fully through. “And I’m going to make you pay for what you did. You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

I fought against him and screamed again. My legs kicked, but he just laughed. My entire body seized with fear. The laugh was mocking, psychotic. I scrambled against him, at the same time fighting for air as the leather bit into my mouth and pushed against my nose.

The door to the ballroom burst open. “Lisa?” Professor Blake caught sight of me then started running in our direction.

“This isn’t over.” The man pushed me onto the ground. Air rushed out of my lungs at the impact. I coughed, my lungs burning from the combination of terror and not being able to breathe very well. The guy was already down the stairs and out of sight by the time I looked along the hall.

Professor Blake reached me and pulled me into his arms. I started sobbing hysterically against his chest, unable to control myself. In all the time I’d received those letters, I never thought that would happen. Who would do that? Who even KNEW?

“Shh,” he whispered into my hair. “It’s alright.” With his arms still around me, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and barked orders into it. “He just left the ballroom floor, took the west stairs. Find the bastard.”

I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. I knew it wouldn’t last long. After all, I was crying in the arms of a guy who didn’t really like me that much. To top that all off with the fact that he was my professor? Yeah, talk about pointless. But still, his smell was comforting, his embrace familiar, strong.

“Do you think you can stand?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” my voice rasped. “I broke my heel though.”

With a nod, he helped me to my feet then lifted me off the floor and into his arms like I weighed a feather, which, with my height, I knew wasn’t exactly true. He leaned against the door and pulled it open then returned his hand to my legs as he carried me into the ballroom.

“Tristan?” Gabe yelled over the music. “What happened?” Gabe charged toward us. A look of pure rage crossed his features as he took in my face and then Professor Blake’s — Tristan’s. The name was nice, better than Professor Blake, less forbidden.

“She was attacked,” Tristan answered.

At the same time, I started to say, “Professor Blake—“

“You son of a bitch!” Gabe lunged for him, but Wes intervened just in time, his arms wrapping around Gabe as he pushed him to the side and approached.

“Stop!” I half-sobbed. “I was attacked by someone else, not Professor Blake.”

“Tristan.” His eyes flashed, daring me to argue. “It’s Tristan.”

I gave a weak nod and shivered, too upset to fight.

“What happened?” Wes asked gently, looking at me then at Tristan.

“A guy…” My voice shook as I hugged myself.

Tristan pulled me closer to him.

“He, um, he had a mask on, but it covered his mouth so I couldn’t make out his voice very well, or his eyes. He said he was going to take care of me, just threatened me.”

Pallor crept into Gabe’s face. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line as he pushed past Wes. His expression softened, and he cradled my face against his palms. “Lisa, is it—?”

“Fine,” I lied. “It’s totally fine. Nothing I haven’t handled before, Gabe. You know that.”

He didn’t buy it. His hands gripped tighter. “You know it’s never been like this,” he ground out. “No crazy fan has ever made actual physical contact.”

“Security,” Tristan said from beside me.

“Damn.” Gabe released my face. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“If she’s in his class…” Wes shook his head, looking more irritated by the minute. “We’ll need security for both of them.”

“What?” I drew in a quick breath. “Not that I’m uncaring, but can’t Tristan hold his own? In a fight? He towered over the guy.”

Wes shared a look with Gabe, one I couldn’t interpret. “Right, but Tristan’s father—”

“Will be notified,” Tristan said smoothly. “I’ll talk to the security detail tonight and make sure the house has an extra guard. Besides, nobody’s aware that I’m here, remember, Wes?”

“But you just made a speech—” I shook my head; something wasn’t making sense.

Gabe cleared his throat. “But, Lisa, they think he’s here just to make the speech then go back to—”

“My job, which, coincidently, is not a full-time college professor.” Tristan shrugged. “I took a few months away from the company to clear my head…”

“Can you do that?” My eyes narrowed. The confusing distraction of Tristan’s background was a welcome change from the terror still pumping through my veins.

“He can probably do whatever the hell he wants, all things considering.” Wes shrugged and gave Tristan a brief nod. “We should probably get you back to the dorms, Lisa.”

“I’ll take her,” Tristan offered.

Wes’s hand froze on my arm, while Gabe’s nostrils flared with irritation.

Tristan wrapped his arm around me. “We should talk. I’ll deliver her safely and make sure she’s in her dorm.”

Gabe didn’t seem to be on board with the idea, but Wes slapped him twice on the shoulder and tilted his head toward the door. “We’ll leave you to it then. Have a good night, and, Lisa, call one of us if you get scared. And for the love of God, please use the pink Taser Gabe keeps teasing you about before I buy you a gun and hide it in your nightstand.”

I nodded and watched them walk away, knowing each step they took meant I was even more alone with Tristan. Was I crazy? Allowing him to watch over me? I was half-tempted to run after Gabe; then again, that wouldn’t make things less awkward when I sat in class Monday morning and had to face Tristan or, I guess, Professor Blake again.

Without turning around, I whispered, “Are we going to talk or make out, Professor?”

That got a chuckle out of him before he sobered and tucked me into his side. “Well, technically I have a house in Hawaii.”

“What?”

“It’s not midnight in Hawaii… not yet.”

“Oh.” I swallowed and looked away shyly.

“Come on.” He kissed my head and walked me toward the door. “I think I know how to end this night on a good note.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“You almost died.” She wept against my body as I tried to lift my hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Please don’t ever do that again, Tay. Never again!”

“You care.” My throat felt like it was on fire. I talked anyway. “You really love me?”

“I do.”

“Then I want you to do something for me…” My voice trailed off, and I freaking had a heyday as her face went completely white. —The Journal of Taylor B.

Lisa

W
E WALKED HAND
in hand to the front of the hotel. Tristan presented his valet ticket. I was shivering, but not because I was cold. I still felt that creepy guy’s hands on me. And it sucked, because he’d ruined what would have been a good memory of Tristan’s hands.

I was pretty sure I was the last thing Tristan wanted to touch now. I wanted to pretend that our masks remained in place, that the kissing was still making me forget, rather than remember the type of girl I really was. Insecurity was a hard-enough battle when you’re female. Add that with the industry I grew up in, and then Taylor himself? And I struggled on a daily basis, fighting the looks people gave me and battling a strong sense of chronic self-loathing I carried with me night and day.

Just the thought of my demons, of Taylor, caused my body to give an involuntary shudder.

“Are you cold?” Tristan shrugged out of his jacket and placed it on my shoulders. It smelled like him — and I felt safe again.

I glanced over, and my mouth went completely dry. His black button-up shirt fit every muscle and crevice of his body like a glove. Clearing my throat, I forced myself to look away, even though I wanted to do a few double-takes.

A black Tesla pulled up to the curb.

“That’s us.” Tristan caught the keys as the valet threw them in his direction and opened my door for me.

I was almost afraid to get in. One didn’t hang out with Gabe and Wes and not know cars. I’d always thought cars told you a lot about a person. And the fact that he drove something both expensive and environmentally friendly? Well honestly, it just screamed CEO and tree-hugger.

Soft leather seats cushioned every curve of my body as I leaned back against the headrest. The navigation turned on, and an old Jay Z song started playing in the background. I seriously wanted to laugh, but I was afraid I’d forgotten how, especially after tonight.

Gabe didn’t know about the rape when I was younger.

I wasn’t even sure if it was rape. I mean, is it rape when you’re in a sexual relationship with someone, and they still force you? Bile rose in my throat at Taylor’s words. I’d blocked it out, just like I tried to block him out, from the way his smile made me do anything to his smooth commands. I swore I’d never allow a guy to control me again. Not that way.