Chapter 13

He grasped my arms under my biceps, and just as he looked real, his touch felt real, as it had every time he touched me. I should shrink away from him, part of my mind insisted, but I couldn’t. I stood there caught in his grip and in his gaze.

“It was explosive,” Dex whispered. “We ripped off those tuxes and went wild, against that window in the bedroom. We couldn’t get enough.”

“That’s not…that wasn’t me.”

“I want you now. Let’s go upstairs.”

I shook my head. “Dex—”

“You’ve been gone all day. I missed you.”

“I went to breakfast and met this old woman and she—”

His lips curved into a sensual smile, and he took hold of my hand and led me up the stairs without a struggle from me.

“She-she was in that photograph. The pool party. Was that when I…I mean Owen—”

“Let’s not talk about that.”

We exited the cellar and headed upstairs. As soon as we entered the bedroom, he pulled my shirt up and over my head.

“You’re not real,” I said.