Page 178 of Safe Word

Genevieve reclaimed her seat in the armchair, pen poised, oblivious to the bomb ticking just inches away.

She started firing off questions. I answered automatically, voice even, while my pulse roared like living thunder under my skin.

Paula added a few words here and there – enough to sound professional, not enough to break eye contact for long.

Vinnie’s knee bounced, his nerves telegraphing what my jaw already confessed. He could feel it too.

I lost track of time. It could have been an hour or more before Vinnie snapped us out of the misery.

‘Paula,’ he said suddenly, too casually. ‘Do you need some fresh air?’

Genevieve bent to scribble something in her notebook.

‘No,’ I cut in before Paula could speak.

It cracked the air like a whip.

Genevieve’s pen froze. Both she and Vinnie looked up in surprise.

‘Let’s proceed,’ Paula recovered quickly, smooth as silk – a woman used to tension and unresolved feelings. ‘So we can have dinner sooner. We skipped lunch.’

The pressure eased – slightly. The room released a collective sigh.

As the reporter turned back to her notes, I found Paula’s eyes again – and this time we both held the moment.

In my mind, I peeled the brown contacts from Scarlett. I ripped the blindfold from her face. The mask. The pretence. And there she was – Paula. Blonde curls, ocean blue and green eyes. Her body arching, legs tightening around me, a remembered tremor shivering through her as I dragged my tongue along the curve of her neck while I fucked… her… raw.

Was she doing the same now? Was she stripping Ghost in her mind, tearing back each layer of illusion until all that remained was me?

The denim scraped punishingly against me. Every breath she took was a friction point, every blink another reminder of what we’d done – and the sense we’d lost.

And amidst the turmoil – all the pent-up need, the restraint… it all fed the thing inside me.

I clenched my teeth together until my molars protested.

‘I wouldn’t mind a quick smoke, if that’s okay?’ Genevieve announced, pushing herself up from the chair and gazing towards the balcony.

I didn’t look at her. I was chained to Paula. And every fibre of my being hummed at the idea that I would have her alone again. But this time—

Vinnie rounded the reporter, his hand landing on my shoulder in a quick pat.

‘You good?’ he murmured. Then his eyes darted to Paula’s. She nodded once, soft and composed – seemingly.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked under his breath, bending closer to me.

‘Take the reporter outside, Vinnie,’ I said, my tone slightly more severe than the moment called for.

He hesitated. Glanced between us warily.

‘Did you guys fight?’ he whispered, lowering his voice.

I shook my head.

He straightened his back, letting the moment settle, unsure whether to leave or stay.

‘Paula, do you want me to stay?’ he asked.

My knuckles cracked.