The way Axel is looking at me is as if he doesn't have an answer to my question or doesn't want to answer me. No matter what the reason is, I’m not loving this moment.

"I asked you how you knew about my skills?" I repeat.

"We were in class together, remember?" he finally comes back with.

"No, that's not cutting it," I tell him. "So, here's the thing, Axel, you obviously know I have intelligence skills, which is why you hired me. This, of course, brings up a whole other set of questions we should probably go over." This situation with Axel and Everett took me by storm and it's taken me a bit to roll out the questions in my head, but probably because things aren't adding up—or they are adding up, just too perfectly for my comfort.

I stand up from the bench and peel his jacket off my shoulders. "Either start explaining, or I'll make sure I can't be found again."

Axel stands up too, hovering over me like he has something profound to say, but with a long pause before saying anything, it seems like he’s at a loss for words. "Isab—"

"Stop. Don't call me that, again."

I pivot to walk off and he grabs my arm as I figured he would. I'm not big on the cat and mouse game, but I'm not big on secrets either. "I can't let you out of my sight," he says.

"Tough," I tell him, pulling my arm from his grip. "I didn't agree to be your piece of property."

"I don't want you to be a piece of property," he says, firmly.

Bull. I know his type. I've been around him long enough to know exactly what he wants. "I offered you this position because I knew you could help," he says.

"So, it was just a coincidence that I happen to apply for your sketchy job posting hanging on an empty storefront window?"

I stop and turn, needing to see whatever look might be playing through his face when he comes up with a response. I should have figured he’d maintain a straight face, though. All he gives me is a blank stare. It's infuriating.

"Fate happens," he pulls out.

I storm up to him, unashamed to be staring up rather than down on him. "There is no such thing as fucking fate. Fate is a fairytale, and I don't believe in that horse shit, so don't even try it with me."

"Why are you so angry?" he responds, which is a nice way to change the subject. The Nobody Loves You method, used by an interrogator who is attempting to persuade the interrogatee to confess out of despair.

I'll play. "Why am I so angry? Let's see, here ... I'm angry because I'm hurt, lonely, deprived, deceived, grieving loss and griping on to a life I never wanted. I was let down. I was left behind. I was fed to the wolves. I no longer have a family or friends, and I'm basically homeless without your help." I take a moment to catch my breath and calm the growing rage, but the words keep coming like an unstoppable freight train. "Except, now I know you're going to offer to help me even more. You're going to try and weaken me to the point where I tell you everything there is to know about my sad life because you're a friend. You're here for me. You'll listen and do whatever you can to make things better."

"Well, yeah," he says, his face contorting with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"That method won't work on me, so I'll save you some time. We can just say we're moving onto the resistance part of this situation."

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

"Where did you get your amazing skills from, Axel? The psych ward or rehab?"

The corner of his lip curls. Great, he’s only slightly amused. "Some people learn from experience," he says.

"I'm going to walk away now and you're not going to follow me. Got it?" Like it would ever be that easy. I'm going to run. He's going to chase me, take me against my will, and drag me back to the hotel. Then, he's going to get me into a compromising situation and play off our forbidden attraction that I let go too far earlier. He'll then attempt to extract more information from me, while I get little if any real pertinent facts from him. We'll lie in bed naked as he strokes my hair, pretending as if none of this is an issue. Morning will come quick and we'll fly back to Boston to start all over again. Or ... maybe I redirect this little situation.

I do as I said, turn back to walk away. I'm guessing I'll get five feet before he grabs me again. One, two, three ... I was wrong. "Harley, please." Begging is a nice touch. He obviously has his job under control as I've watched over the last few days so I'm not sure why I'm so important to keep around. If it were honest feelings for me, he wouldn't have thought to bring me into a place where Everett had concerns. Therefore, I can assume Everett feels stronger for my well-being than Axel does. I think I mean something to Axel in a completely different way.

"Let go of me, Axel," I demand.

I struggle against his grip, but he holds tight and by the look on his face, I'm getting under his skin. There's a pained look in his eyes, which is either great acting or he’s losing his touch.

Axel pulls me in the opposite direction, but my struggle isn't as real as it would be if I weren't trying to undetectably go along with his plan. "I'll scream if you don't let go of me," I tell him. "What will people think?"

He doesn't respond to me. Instead, he pulls his phone out and I see him sending a text to Everett, telling him he has me. He almost made that part of this too easy.

"Why are you doing this?" I groan.

"You're not safe here, Harley," he tells me.

"So, what, I'm safer as your prisoner now?"

"No, you're not my prisoner."

"Kind of seems like it to me seeing as the way you're treating me right now."

"Okay, well, sorry to let you down, but you’re not a prisoner."

"So then why are you being so aggressive?" I ask, skittishly.

"I told you I like to have control at all times."

"I never agreed to give you control of me, Axel."

"I beg to differ," he says.

He pulls me down a small alley and shoves me against the stone wall. His hands are wrapped around mine, pressing into my shoulders as he peers down at me with his burning gaze that’s not only holding me hostage but also embracing the moon’s perfect reflection. I hate that his sinful glare makes my pulse react. I must be stronger than this. I need resistance inside even if I'm outwardly giving into this.

Axel lowers his forehead to mine, pressing the back of my head into the wall. His breath is warm against my lips and I'm drinking it in, enjoying the hint of whiskey mixed with fury. "Stop," I tell him.

"Why?" he asks.

"One of us is going to get hurt." He doesn’t need to know that I don't mean me.

"No one is going to get hurt," he corrects me, "unless you prefer things that way."

Everything from my waist down clenches as if his words have physically traced a line down the center of my body with the ragged tip of a feather. I swallow hard. Ignore the feeling. I can turn it off.

"Isabelle," he whispers into my mouth. "There's a lot of confusion here but you're smart enough to know the difference between what's real and what's not." His lips skim mine like a smooth caress from a wet cherry. Then he kisses my cheek with only the slightest touch from his lips. The move is purposefully close enough to taste but far enough away that my lips yearn for more. The chill from the slight gust of wind turns his lips cold, allowing him the privilege of leaving cold streaks down the length of my neck. His hands release mine, but only so he can touch his fingertips to my bare chest before sliding his palms up slowly until my face is cupped within his grip.

Stop feeling everything.

His mouth returns to mine along with a sharp inhale through his nose. He works his lips into a powerful frenzy as if he were trying to make me forget all evidence that my lips ever knew anything less than this sensation. He knows he’s pushing my bounds to the brink of losing control by manipulating my movements to his unspoken command while he simultaneously trains me to match his pace, flow, and movement.

As the minutes roll by and my lips begin to tingle from a lack of release and air, Axel arches back enough to look down at me, smiling ever so slightly as we quietly catch breaths that have escaped between us. "Will you walk with me, or do I need to throw you over my shoulder?"

"I'll walk," I tell him. It was part of my plan, anyway. What is not part of the plan is what is happening inside of my chest, within my loins—what is internally out of my control.

"Thank you," he says, taking my hand within his, gently, rather than with force.

The silence is loud, blaring with questions I assume we're both now seeking. He was looking for me, but I want to know if he knew I had been evicted. Plus, having a boss or whoever the hell he answers to working out of D.C. rather than Boston doesn’t add up. Most importantly, I need to know how he was so knowledgeable about my skills. We may have shared a class, but it wasn't about brainwashing or screwing with the human mind.

I hadn't realized the town car had taken us closer to the hotel after we dropped Axel off at dinner. The streets all look similar, but I recognize the hotel down the block. "How did the dress work out for you tonight?" Axel asks. His question feels odd after everything that has happened in the past twenty minutes.

"It was fine, thank you," I reply.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to enjoy it longer," he says. "I didn’t intend to send you out for dinner with Everett tonight."

"I understand," I tell him. I don't understand a goddamn thing, but I will soon.

We make our way into the hotel and over to the elevators. We wait in silence, listening to the beeps announce each floor it passes. The wait must be adding pressure to Axel since I notice him fidgeting with his pants as he glances down at me without moving his upward-turned chin. Of course, standing side-by-side with the height difference between us, I suspect he must have a clear shot right down the center of my dress.

The doors open, and Axel's hand rests on the small of my back as he gently urges me inside. I dangle my hands down in front of my waist, clasping my fingers together while staring at our blurry reflections in the shined-metal doors. We're both staring straight ahead as if on guard, waiting for the doors to open. Based on Axel’s statuesque demeanor, and the casual pace he uses to step out of the elevator and walk down the hall toward our rooms, most people wouldn’t have a clue about how many erratic thoughts are most likely bouncing through his head, but I know better.

He reaches into his pocket for the room key and quietly opens his room's door, gesturing for me to walk in ahead of him. I do, mirroring his speed and slow gestures to make my way inside.

I find the connecting door to my room open, as we left it earlier, which is perfect.

Axel struggles with his tie for a moment, loosening it while staring off toward the window and the welcoming glow from the city lights.

I make my way over to the connecting door. "I'll be back in just a moment. I'd like to freshen up."

Axel doesn't respond, making me wonder what he's thinking. I’m certain he hasn’t considered the trouble he’s asking for. All that matters is that I'm fully aware of the trouble this will cause.

Once inside the bathroom, I lean forward and press my hands into the vanity as I stare at the dolled-up version of my soulless body. Endorphins fire through me as I contemplate what I’m about to do—deceiving my mind into thinking I’m making the best decision. It’s an easy moment of opportunity and I can’t get myself to think beyond my actions. An innocent eagerness to learn what many don't know about was my only motivation. Now, I know too much for my own good. I can run from those who want what's inside of my head, but I will never be able to escape what I know.

I turn the sink on, splashing my warm cheeks with cool water, then dab at them with a face cloth. I lean to the side toward the toilet and flush, needing the few seconds of echoing noise to drown out my next move.

I slip out of the bathroom and open my hotel room door just enough to place the bronze doorstop in the opening. This will make Everett’s efforts to enter my room a little easier, since I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he comes back here to find me.

With a heavy exhale, I reopen the connecting door to Axel’s room and pull it to close most of the way behind me. Axel is standing shirtless, staring out the window at the lights. When he hears my presence, he turns toward me, making his way across the room in a passionate rush similar to how he did the last time we were in this situation. I may not have been expecting his sexual desires the first time, but I'm now aware of his wants.

He hits the lights on the way over to me, and the room is dark aside from the dim light shining in from my bathroom next door.

His cool hands find the bareness of my back before peeling the zipper slowly down the inward arch of my body. The exposure to the air-conditioned room enhances each sensation working through my skin, including the slight scratch left behind from the zipper as it slithers down the length of my body. Left in only my heels and panties, Axel's hands roam freely as his fingertips caress the lengths of my arms, my collarbone, and my shoulders.

"I want you. I need you to feel how much I feel for you."

I close my eyes, wishing I could shut out sensation as well as noise because I don't want to feel this. I don't want to enjoy this. I don't want the moments of bliss evaporating into my heart. A hand rests around my neck as his lips connect with mine, making the distraction intense enough that the sound of his pants falling to the ground sound like nothing more than a silk sheet colliding with thin air.

With what feels like little effort, I'm scooped into his arms, and my legs instinctually tangle around his solid waist as we aimlessly move backward until his knees buckle at the edge of his bed.

I'm an asshole, but he may be a bigger asshole.

He's falling into my trap, and I feel some regret mildly setting in, but it seems like it’s exactly what he wants from me too.

The remnants of our undergarments are removed in a wave of smooth motions. Everything is slow, unlike the first time, which allows me to feel the slight stubble on his chest scraping against my nipples, rousing them rather than causing pain. The muscles along his hips grind against me just before he kisses his way down the center of my core, reaching a place where I might willingly offer the answer to any questions I’m asked. I cover my mouth, concealing the noises threatening to escape. For the moment, I selfishly give in, knowing his mouth is occupied enough that he can’t interrogate me.

His tongue parts the way, flicking and twisting as he kisses me like he was being kissed in return. The gratifying pain sears through my body as he pulls away, returning his position to match mine, face to face, gaze to gaze, and his hardened cock leaving its mark against my willingness to comply. This isn't fucking. This is something else.

We don't move from our positions as he kisses me hard, wrapping his arms tightly around me as he thrusts into my endless desire for everything he'll give me in order to erase the pain and understanding of what we're temporarily forgetting. My body is in tune with his every movement, yet we are on two different sides, two different pages, but both escaping from a reality that will ultimately bring us to a place neither want to be. His steel composure is a facade for the weakness he's exposing to me now, and I’m not sure I can go any further, knowing what I’m capable of doing to him.

His forehead rests on the pillow as he continues his fierce movements against me. "I'm sorry, Isabelle," he says in a heated exasperation. "I'm going to keep you safe, I promise."

Keep me safe. He's sorry. "What are you sorry for?" I ask him between heavy breaths, trying to understand, while feeling drunk in the moment of lust, too.

"You're fucking kidding me," I hear as the lights blare to life.

My plan worked at the worst time. Axel pulls the blankets up, covering us as we look over at the enraged look on Everett's face. "How the hell did you get in here?" Axel asks while wiping the back of his hand against his forehead.

Everett looks over at me, knowing what I did. "Don't worry about that," he says. "This explains everything. I should have known."

"Dude, just give us a minute, okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally. Sure, I'll just go wait in Harley's room while you finish plowing her. No problem."

I drape my arm over my face, hiding from the intentional wrath I caused.

"That's not what I meant," Axel says.

"Hey, while you're doing her, why don't you tell her the fucking truth maybe, huh?"

"Get the hell out of here," Axel shouts at him. "Jesus, man. Get a grip."

Everett laughs, cynically, before cocking his head to the side as he looks over at me. "You just wait. Wait until you find out what prince not-so-charming's plans really were." Everett leaves the room, closing the connecting door behind him.

"What's he talking about?" I ask Axel, trying my best to remain calm, and scared to death of letting my unraveled emotions get the best of me at a hormonally charged moment.

Axel looks at me for a long minute before placing a brief kiss on my lips. "It's not important because it's not an issue. We need to get back to Boston, though."

"Why?" I press.

"Everett is about to cause a world of shit right now if we don't."