Horror was an injection, straight to my veins, sending me flying, but not in a good way. I stared as utter disbelief took the place of need.

“Seth.” No. No, no. This can’t be.

He stands, and the way he moves his body is still so damn familiar to me, even after all these years. The dark hair, those wraithlike gray eyes…

But more than that, it’s the way that he looks at me that finally makes me understand. That predatory stare that makes every nerve inside of me come to life.

“What… what are you doing here?” I want to cringe, that sounds so trite, but I need to ask. Far as I know, Seth Thorne hasn’t been in Galveston since he was sent to prison for damn near killing my brother. I hate him too much to research into his life, but I’m not blind—when I see him in magazines, inevitably with some stick insect on his arm, I can’t help but remember.

Seth Thorne, the one I’ve never been able to forget, is now a billionaire. And we just acted out a scene straight from my dreams.

“I should think that would be obvious, since I just had my fingers inside of you.” He takes a step toward me, and it damn near kills me to not retreat. But I won’t. I won’t retreat, even if his words just make me weak in the knees.

“You know what I mean.” I glare up at him, wondering why I don’t see more emotion on his face. No, he’s just blank, though the glitter in his eyes tells me that he still wants me. “Why are you here? Why are you back in Galveston?”

That glitter darkens, just for a moment. “I go where I please now.” One more step, right into my personal space. Though after what we just did, that seems somewhat of a moot point.

“The important question is, what the fuck are you doing in a kink club?” And then he’s right there, right in front of me, right up in my face. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, because I should be wrapping my hands around his throat, but instead I find myself tilting up my chin and staring at his lips.

He notices, and smirks, then taps a finger over my own mouth. “No kisses for you until you tell me what the fuck you were thinking, coming here.”

He’s fucking furious. Even after all these years, I can still tell.

I gape. He can’t seriously be asking me that, can he? I mean—we’re both here. We obviously both have our reasons.

“I’m waiting, Allegra.” I’m pinned by his stare, and I can’t look away. I start to squirm, feeling almost… guilty? Yes, guilty.

Damn him. He’s the reason I’m here in the first place. I will not feel bad for taking what I need, what I now know that I want. Not ever.

“I believe that’s a big case of the pot calling the kettle black, Seth.” Needing space, but still not wanting to look like I’m retreating, I bend, pick up my dress. Shimmying into it under his ever watchful eyes, I manage to get the back zipper halfway up, but damned if I’m going to ask him for help.

He gives it anyway, coming up behind me while I’m searching for my panties. He plucks them right out of my hand then, while I’m frozen, wondering why the fuck he’d just done that, he slides the zipper home.

I stiffen as he places his hands on my shoulders, and I can’t help but gasp when his lips brush the lobe of my ear.

“I told you to call me Sir.”

Reeling, I yank away from that gentle touch and, drawing my arm back, slap him across the face, as hard as I possibly can. But it’s not hard enough, it will never be hard enough, not when this man tore my family apart.

“Get your fucking hands off of me.” The sound of my palm slapping into his cheek reverberates through the room. The bastard doesn’t even flinch. No, instead he reaches for me again.

“I said stop!” My knees tremble. I can’t help it. There’s so much emotion swirling through me, and my hormones are still flying high after that amazing fucking release.

In fact, I’m having a bit of a hard time standing up.

“I’ll stop as soon as you can stand up on your own again.” I stiffen and shove at him at he picks me up and carries me to the bed. There he hands me more water.

I try to stand. His hand on my shoulder pushes me back down.

“This is called aftercare. If you’re going to be playing in a place like this, you’d better get used to it.” Standing in front of me, he watches as I try to stand again, frustration painting his features.

“Allegra. Allie. Just sit until you’re steady again. I’ll keep my hands off of you. I promise.” He rakes his hands through that dark, delicious hair, and in that moment I can see a hint of my own misery.

That, combined with his use of the nickname no one else had ever called me, does me in. I can handle being furious with Seth. I can handle hating him, with wanting to kill him. I can even handle the incredibly hot sexytime that just transpired between us.

But I cannot handle his tenderness. I can’t handle the feelings that come with it. So I do the one thing I promised myself I would never do if I saw Seth Thorne again.

I run.