Emily
I’m alone with Thomas again. Worked up as I am from Azriel acting like a top tier dickhead, the sizzle of Thomas’ gaze only scrambles my brains more. He’s got a shirt on again. I suppose I ought to be thankful his body won’t distract me, but a little devil in my brain wishes he was still bare chested.
If he’s gonna terrify me, he ought to at least give me something to look at, right?
He takes a step towards the bed, and I instinctively draw back. That stops him in his tracks and he drops his head and slings his hands in his pockets.
“You’re afraid of me.” He says it matter of factly, but there’s a tinge of regret in his voice.
“Wouldn’t you be? I mean, Thomas, what do you expect? Am I your prisoner now? Is that what this is? Because, let me tell you, if that’s what you’ve got in mind, it’s some real bullshit. And try all you want the second your back is turned, I’m out of here. That’s a promise.”