I slipped off my shoes and stepped onto the perfectly manicured lawn. Even under the cover of night, Montague Manor was a beautiful prison. Trying to keep the shadows at bay, as Jane had said, I concentrated on fond memories. They were there. And as much as I hated to admit it, many of those from my childhood included Bryce.

“Do you remember swimming in the lake?” he asked.

I grinned. “Yes. Our mothers would get so mad. They were sure it wasn’t safe and wanted us in the pool instead.”

“Nessie,” we both said with a laugh.

“I think they were the ones who told us about her. You were never afraid of Nessie. I was,” Bryce admitted.

“You were? You never acted like it.”

“Because I’m a guy. Guys can’t show fear, and you were younger than me. I couldn’t let a little girl be braver than me.”

“I don’t know if it was so much being brave as it was defiant. And unbeknownst to my mother, Jane had explained the pump to me. So I knew the hum wasn’t really a monster.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? That would’ve saved me a lot of sleepless nights.”

I softly laughed. “Because you never told me you were afraid.”

Bryce stopped walking a few feet from the shoreline. “I can still hear it. Can you?”

Camouflaged behind the crickets and occasional croaks of a toad, was a faint hum vibrating through the ground more than the air. “I can.”

Bryce reached for my hands and as I tried to pull them away, he said, “Alex, give me a second, please.”

Swallowing, I nodded.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“I-I’m not…”

“You are. More than you know. It was bad—the police, the station, the holding cell. I can’t go back. I can’t. I’m telling you what I’ve never told anyone. I was scared, more scared than I was of Nessie.”

I clenched my teeth. “I’m sorry, but I’m not helping you or anyone else cover up a crime.”

“Then you’re going to make a lousy lawyer.”

I knew he was kidding, but I was tired of people telling me what to do with my future, what to become, and how well I’d do. I pulled my hands away. “I will make a great attorney, because I’ll stand up for what’s right.”

“There are two sides to every argument.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I didn’t.” He ran his hand through his blond waves. “We had sex. She wanted more than a few dates and sex. I didn’t. She had some grand illusion about marriage. When I told her we were done, she promised she would get back at me. She said I’d led her on.”

“Bryce, Alton said there were bruises.”

He shook his head. “She didn’t have bruises the last time I saw her. I swear.”

I paced a few steps and turned back toward him. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You know me. I’m the guy who was afraid of Nessie. Please consider transferring to Savannah Law.”

“What?”

“New York is far away. Not as far as California, but still far. If you’d transfer to Savannah Law, we could…” His voice trailed away.

“We could what?” I asked, with more attitude than I intended.

“Just see where the future leads.”

The caterers were gone by the time we made our way back up to the manor and lights were off in many of the rooms. It wasn’t until after Bryce was gone and I headed up to my room that I heard the voices—his voice. The tenuous calm that had settled over me at the lake’s edge disappeared. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and tried to drown out his shouting and her tears.

As I quietly shut and locked my bedroom door I realized that I was a child again, and at Montague Manor that’s what we do, we pretend not to hear and not to see. We live in the illusion hidden within the smoke and mirrors.

OUR DATE AT 333 Pacific was everything Nox promised and more… down to the sea breeze. Our covert scandalous behaviors had me twisted tighter than I’d ever been. Everything was erotic: the scent of his cologne, the thundering rumble of his voice, and the confident, assured touch of his skin against mine. Though part of me knew what we were doing—what I was allowing Nox to do to me—went against everything Alex stood for, I was virtually on the edge of explosion. Sometime during the evening, the tightening inside of me moved from pleasure to pain. I needed release and knew my only source was the man beside me. However, instead of offering relief for the smoldering fire, Nox simply continued to fan the flames.

The menacing gleam in his eyes was the spark. The way the navy swirled in the paleness as he leaned close and whispered in my ear turned butterflies into bats. At first his directives were simple, almost mundane: take a sip of your drink, tilt your head to your right, spread your legs, wider. Then I realized his plan. He was testing me step by step, to see if I would play his game.

I did.

I wanted to.

By the time our main course arrived my thighs were slick with my dedication to Nox’s entertainment, yet he’d barely touched me. My stuttered breathing and noticeable arousal was mostly accomplished with merely his words and velvety tone. On the few occasions he’d ventured to ease his skilled fingers higher and lightly brushed my folds, I squirmed involuntarily toward his touch. Instead of rewarding my effort, he’d calmly rebuke me, reminding me that he was the one testing my limits. This was his night. My part was to follow his rules. Though I did everything but verbally beg for more, his teasing continued, never delving deeper or satisfying the part of me that longed for his attention.

After dinner he took my hand and led me out past the palm trees to the long Oceanside pier. Despite the beautiful atmosphere, my frustration had grown beyond want to need. I silently cursed myself for the last few wasted nights. I cursed him for what he was doing and what he could do. My urgency was palpable. I wanted—no needed—to hurry back to the resort so that he could explore my limits in private.

“Patience,” he murmured close to my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. As if he could read my thoughts, he added, “We’ll both get what we want. But before we do, I need to be sure you’re ready.”

Ready?

“I’m ready. I promise.”

His deep chuckle was quickly lost to the roar of the surf.

The water and sky were no longer blue and sparkling. Old-fashioned street lamps, every fifty or so feet, cast circles of light upon our path. The soft illumination gave the illusion that the boardwalk was suspended in space. With the cover of night, the sea had become a black tide, invisible but for the whitecaps and the gentle rocking of the pier. The sky shimmered with stars. We paused at a simple wooden bench just outside a circle of light, and Nox gestured for me to sit. My pulse quickened and mind spun when instead of sitting beside me, he knelt before me. Electricity ricocheted through me as he leaned down and kissed the inside of my knee.

“Nox?” I asked. Drawing out his name, the one-word question revealed a hint of my hidden Southern drawl. With his warm breath skirting my thighs, I nervously looked from side to side, wishing we were alone.

Ignoring my silent plea, the menacing grin I’d grown to adore made Nox’s eyes sparkle as he gently pushed my knee to the side. I sucked my lip between my teeth, stifling a moan. The cool sea breeze was a stark contrast to his warm breath against my drenched sensitive skin. Slowly, he brushed his large hand over my leg, moving it down, and capturing my ankle. Just as I was about to speak, though I wasn’t sure what I would have said, he lifted my foot and removed my shoe. Then he did the same with the other one.

“Damn,” Nox said, standing and offering me his hand. “Even in the dark, that was a fucking fantastic view.”

A rush of blood filled my cheeks as I stood, barefoot, short, and confused. “Why did you…?”