by Ava Lohan
He opened a door and gestured for me to enter the room. He didn’t say a word as he closed the door behind us. We were in a bathroom. Kegan’s bathroom. Needless to say, it too was gorgeous. I looked at him quizzically. “You brought me up here to show me your bathroom?” It was all so surreal.
He laughed. “More or less.”
He took off his boxers and climbed up the two steps that led to his shower. He motioned for me to join him behind the glass, and I followed him like an obedient child. He closed the shower door in silence and turned on the water. I stood with my mouth open. I must have looked like one of his fish. But Kegan didn’t notice. The water started to flow over his body. I was far enough away to not get hit by the spray. He turned to me, his face serious. We stared at each other and locked eyes. He ran his fingers through his wet hair. I had to turn away. Jesus, it was too much. He had lured me right into his trap. Unfortunately for me, my eyes fell upon his tattoo—now covered in water droplets—as well as what lay below it. The results were even worse than seeing his fingers in his hair. My body was hotter than the water. Soon enough, I would start letting off steam.
Did he expect to have sex with me in the bathroom after all that had happened?
Was this the one last thing that he needed from me?
I couldn’t believe it. No, he didn’t dare.
I looked at him sternly, trying to send a warning. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Even if my body was screaming out for his, I couldn’t do it. I refused to fulfill his last request. He should have known better before leading me there. I would’ve liked to believe I was unmovable after all that’d happened that day, but I was scared to know the truth. My heart was beating faster than normal. I could feel it pulsing in my ears. I shouldn’t have agreed to come upstairs. I should’ve been long gone, far from Lust, and not in Kegan’s bathroom, watching water drip down his naked body.
“This… is not a good idea,” I repeated.
Kegan closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were tired of hearing me talk. Then he grabbed a sponge. “I won’t touch you, but you can touch me.” He squeezed some shower gel onto the sponge and handed it to me.
After a moment’s hesitation, I took the sponge from his hand and looked at it, frowning.
“I want you to wash me,” he said, exhaling deeply. His eyes were desperate. “I want you to wash me. It would make me feel less dirty.”
The way he said it made me feel uncomfortable. “Why should I?”
“Because I need you to. I need you to try and make me feel better. You’re the only person that can do it. I can’t. I’ve never—” He paused, as did my heart. “I’ve never managed to,” he said with a bitter smile.
Kegan was staring at my hands, silently begging me as he sunk his teeth into those lips that had caused me so much pain.
I should’ve told him to fuck off. I knew it. He was the one who’d hurt me. I’d forgotten how much love can make you suffer, and he was committed to helping me remember. I should’ve thrown the sponge at him and left him in his rich boy shower. Why, then, was I stalling?
Turn your back on him and get out of here. Turn around and run.
But my feelings wouldn’t change. My hand squeezed the sponge and my feet began taking small steps toward him. My voice acted before my brain could stop me.
“All right.”
Kegan thanked the Lord and leaned his head against the dark wall of the shower.
I stood under the jet of water, soaking my dress, underwear, and shoes as I ran the sponge over his perfect body. I wanted Kegan to feel as clean as his skin was. I wanted him to feel better. I wanted to help him, I truly did. But I also wanted to free myself from his control. I tried to calm my breathing and focused my attention on the sponge and the soap bubbles that drifted away with the hot water. The water was washing him; I was just applying the soap. I hoped the water would have the effect he was hoping for, that it would wash away all the filth he longed to rid himself of, but what I felt for him was not going anywhere. The water wasn’t enough for me—it could never have been enough. I felt like a disciple cleansing her god, venerating him with every scrub. But I didn’t allow myself to forget that this was the last time we’d see each other. Each stroke of the sponge felt like a knife to the chest.
Kegan looked up at the ceiling. He focused on the sponge as I caressed his body with it. I touched him everywhere I wanted, but he didn’t lay as much as a finger on me. He stood against the wall, as if he were forcing himself to stay as far away from me as possible. I didn’t expect him to say anything. I figured we'd go on in silence until he stopped me. But then, I heard his hoarse voice mixed with the sound of the water.
“My grandfather was a real bastard. Literally.”
I stopped my hand near his piercing, my knuckles resting on his chest.
“He grew up around the whores who worked for his father. His whole life he believed women were just sluts. He treated them accordingly. His father’s brothel was exclusive for its time, but my grandfather made it what it is today. He carefully selected his clients and became part of the wealthiest circles in New York.”
I started washing his hips.
“He needed an heir, so he got one of his employees pregnant. They weren’t in love or anything. He just needed someone to run the business when he was gone.” Kegan seemed to have trouble speaking. “That was my father. He studied in England, at the same all-boys school I went to. He stayed there until he was eighteen. Then, when he came back to the US for college, he just seemed to get into trouble. My grandfather was worried he would do something stupid, like fall in love and give all of this up, leaving him without someone to inherit his empire. I followed in my father's footsteps. The same school, the same university. But there was always someone keeping an eye on me.”
I didn’t want to say anything that would distract Kegan from what he was trying to tell me. The pangs in my stomach were not from excitement: they were pure pain. I wanted to know about this part of his life. I wanted to know everything about him, but every word was dripping with pain, causing me to suffer with him. It was becoming unbearable. I could feel it in my jaw, in my clenched fists, in my heaving chest.
“When my father finished school and came back to Lust, my grandfather thought he’d won. My father went into the family business. He worked here, like my grandfather before him. Like my mother, who he met here.”
I concentrated on the sponge and decided to start over again from his neck. I worked on his shoulders and felt some of the tension release.
“I’m a whore, like everyone else in my family.” He raised one hand to his face and pushed his hair back. “My parents tried to get us out of here. They wanted to keep me away from all of this shit, but they died. So there I was, back in the hands of my grandfather. He made me this way. He made me work here. He didn’t even care that it wasn’t legal. He was always so good at twisting the law. He made it so that I could never leave. I’m a whore, Rose. I’ve always tried to distance myself from the truth and just think about the money. Then I saw myself in your eyes and it was horrible.”
I dropped the sponge and held him. His hands were still pressed against the wall. He was keeping his promise, he wasn’t touching me. But I could touch him, and I wanted to. I reached for his hands and rested my head on his chest as a single tear ran down my cheek, mixing with the water. Touch me, please, touch me.
Kegan gave in and grabbed my hands. “It was horrible,” he repeated, his voice now shaky. “Trying to make you hate me was the right thing to do, but this isn’t what I wanted. I never wanted to see you looking at me like that. But by the time I understood what was happening it was too late. But it was still the right thing to do, Rose. It’s the right thing. Fuck. And that makes it worse,” he said squeezing my hands.
Suddenly he broke down, finally overcome by his pain. Kegan couldn’t hold it back any longer. His body shook as he sobbed, my head still resting on his chest. He slid onto the shower floor, dragging me with
him. As he cried, his tears disappeared into the shower’s spray and down the drain. I caressed his face in an attempt to console him. I ran my fingers over his cheekbones, his nose, every part of that face that made me lose my mind. But it wasn’t enough to make him stop. I rose to my knees and started kissing his face, in hopes that my lips could heal him. I ran my fingers through his hair and pressed my nose into his neck. I kissed him there, too.
“It’s all right,” I said over and over again, alternating my words with kisses.
He closed his eyes as he convulsed on the floor in a fit that I thought would never end. I told him that I didn’t hate him, that I could forget everything that had just happened, but not even that seemed to help. I decided to give up and pressed my face into his shoulder as I stroked his cheek. I listened to him sob, just waiting for it to end. I told him it would all be okay, over and over again.
My mind was messed up. I didn’t want to leave anymore. Now, more than ever, I wanted to stay with him, as if nothing had happened tonight. I’d only known Kegan for two weeks, but I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life. It was clearer to me in that shower than it had been on the beach, the day I’d tried to convince him that he was all mine.
I would have chosen Kegan over Paul, over the convent, over any guy that my parents would have liked. They never would have approved of Kegan, but I didn’t care. I could no longer go on with a life that I wasn’t meant for, not after him. I stifled a sigh and rubbed my hand over his stomach. I never could have imagined that sex, a voice, or a penetrating gaze could make me obsess over someone and lose my mind completely. But for Kegan Anderson, that was all it took. I still loved the beast, even after seeing him at his worst.
“I can love a beast,” I whispered.
He rested his cheek on my head and stopped crying. “I know I shouldn’t do this… that I’m a selfish bastard… that I shouldn’t say this to you, but stay, please stay.”
“I’m not leaving,” I whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Nineteen
I woke up thinking about Sara and my dead cell phone. I had no doubt she’d written me over the past few days. As my head sunk into the soft pillows on Kegan’s bed, I imagined she was praying for me after my mysterious disappearance. For all she knew I’d gone missing, and here I was, doing nothing to ease her mind. I squeezed the sheets in my hands, feeling guilty. I had to go to her. I should be by her side as she took her vows, even if my life had suddenly changed tracks. I wanted to support her, and I would.
A scent wafted in the air, making my stomach growl. Something I hadn’t smelled in years: pancakes. I felt homesick. I closed my eyes for a minute and imagined my mom calling me for breakfast. I waited to hear her voice echoing down the hall, but there was only silence. The sound of her voice was only in my head, like all the rest of my memories of her. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling before forcing myself to get up. I massaged my throbbing temples and looked back at the empty, unmade bed. I’d heard Kegan get up and leave, but I’d pretended I was sleeping to give him some time alone. Then I’d actually fallen back asleep.
I’d hardly slept that night. My head ached as I thought back to what Kegan had said. To everything that had happened. Clear in my mind were images of him in that gigantic bed, covered by the hands of strangers, the two of us in the shower, Kegan crying as I consoled him, Kegan drying my hair and giving me an oversized t-shirt to sleep in, Kegan lying on my side of the bed stroking my hair, careful not to touch any other part of me.
Barefoot, I followed my nose to the kitchen where I imagined I would find a servant trying to fatten me up. But it was just Kegan. I approached him, looking at him like he was some sort of alien. I had no idea he knew how to cook. I’d thought he was a sex god and nothing more. But there he was, putting the finishing touches on a stack of pancakes. My stomach approved.
“Good morning,” he greeted me without turning around.
I looked around again, making sure that no housekeepers were lurking in the corners. “You can cook?” A question as dumb as the look on my face.
“Sometimes, but only for myself.”
The pancakes were topped with blueberries and whipped cream, just like my mom used to make. I didn’t even want to think about the calories. Hunger pangs, tinged with nostalgia, hit my stomach.
I placed my hand over my belly button. “My favorite,” I said, surprised.
“Then tell me if they pass the test.” He finally looked up at me, letting me get a glimpse of a smile. He stood still with his fork in mid-air, waiting for me to taste and rate his work.
I hunched over the table and dug in. What a masterpiece they were. The smell hadn’t deceived me, the pancakes were truly heavenly. I’d forgotten how much I’d missed them. They even looked just like my mother’s.
“God,” I murmured.
“Yes?” Kegan joked.
I turned to see him concentrated on his own stack of pancakes. His hair was damp. He looked embarrassed, then worried.
“Where’d you go?”
“I went for a run. Then I came back and showered. Then…” he said, gesturing to the pan on the stove and the pancakes. He stared at the floor and played with the drawstring on his tracksuit. He was probably thinking about what had happened the night before. He’d shown me a part of him that I’d never seen. He’d been vulnerable, and now, in the light of a new day, he was realizing what he had done.
I wanted him to stop thinking about it, at least for a few minutes. Pancakes, damn it, think about the pancakes. “They’re amazing,” I said, trying to draw his attention back to the table. Mission accomplished. “You’re a god in the kitchen, too,” I added, bringing another forkful to my mouth. Not even the cooks downstairs made such amazing breakfasts. I was just about to tell him that when Sara’s face popped into my head. “I have to go to Saint Clare,” I said, thinking about her and Mother Superior, who also hadn’t had any updates from me. Today was the last day of the agreement, the day Mother Superior had been waiting for. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore. “Can my sisters stay in the convent?”
Kegan sighed impatiently, as if he couldn’t stand hearing the question again.
But I needed confirmation, a clear answer, or I would break his face in two. I glared at him threateningly. “Yes or no?”
“I was never going to kick them out,” he said. “But you have to stop calling them your sisters.”
“It was just out of habit,” I mumbled, setting my plate down on the counter, ready to leave. “I’m going to get changed in my room. Can you see if the driver or Finn can take me there?” I hoped he would say yes—otherwise, leaving Lust would be problematic.
He didn’t respond until I was at the threshold of the door. “I’ll take you there myself.” He couldn’t see my expression, but I was smiling like a teenager on her first date. In some ways, I almost was one. Though, a convent wasn’t really a great first date destination. Maybe I should have considered this our second date, after our day out at the beach.
Kegan interrupted my thoughts. “And Rose, that’s not your room anymore. From now on, my room is yours too.”
Sara had been really worried about me. For the last four days, she’d been trying to convince Mother Superior to call the police to look for me. I laughed, then cried, at how concerned she was. I told her that my cell phone had been broken. At least that much was true. I then told her I’d fallen in love during my time with my aunt. A white lie. After her initial shock, Sara said she was happy for me and that she’d miss having me by her side, even if we would still see each other from time to time.
Things didn’t go as smoothly with Mother Superior. As soon as I gave her the news about the convent, she lit up as if I were the Virgin Mary appearing before her eyes. She took my hands in hers and kissed my knuckles. But when I told her that I wouldn’t confess my sins to Father Abel, and that I would no longer be taking my vows, she let go of me, her expression changing instantly. She stared at me like I’d just ha
d sex with Kegan on her desk. I immediately understood that things between us had changed. To her, I was once again the girl that had shown up at her door two years ago. The girl she never should have trusted. She sent me off coldly, despite the fact that I’d fulfilled my mission and saved the convent. Undoubtedly, she believed that I’d been induced by sin and that I was going to work for Kegan, becoming a woman of the worst kind.
I brushed it all off as I went to meet Kegan, who was leaning on the hood of his shiny red convertible, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. I took my own sunglasses from my bag. I decided we were going to play on equal terms: if I couldn’t see his eyes, then he couldn’t see mine. I opened the door and looked up at Mother Superior’s window. Kegan had parked in the exact same place he’d parked his Bugatti Veyron the first time.
He flashed me a defiant smile before starting the engine and taking me away from there.
Leaving the convent wasn’t painful, not with him by my side. I was no longer afraid of a future outside the walls that had protected me when I was at my most vulnerable. I reached out for his hand and squeezed it in mine. Neither of us spoke—there was no need, our hands said it all. We rode happily until we reached the gates of Lust, where Kegan suddenly let go of my hand and swerved onto a side road. My fingers reached instinctively for the crucifix under my shirt.
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to scare me to death?” His ability to make me take the Lord’s name in vain was equal to his skills in bed.
Kegan pulled over and turned the car off, still looking straight ahead. “Are you wearing panties?”
What? Right here, in the middle of the street? With the top down? I was about to call on God again. “Yes,” I said, feeling a wave of heat wash over my body.
Kegan shook his head slowly and tapped his fingers on the wheel. “That’s not what I was hoping to hear...” he scolded me jokingly. “Because I’m not wearing any boxers.” His face became serious and looked at me through his sunglasses. “Take all of this off and come here,” he ordered, gesturing to all of my clothes before reclining his seat.