Page 103 of Monster's Edge
With Ian, these are things that are a part of him. It’s like they’re second nature. It’s just who he is. It’s just what he wants to do. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by the fact thatmostpeople don’t do these things.
Ian just wants what he wants.
“I understand,” I whisper. I do. I get it now. I know.
“I’m glad you understand,” he tells me. Then he kisses me again, hard and deep. He pins my wrists above my head and he uses one of his hands to fondle my breasts as his mouth dominates mine.
One thing is for certain: Ian Salucci has successfully wrecked my world.
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Ian and I make outagainst the wall for some time. He’s grinding against me and I can feel just how much this entire thing is affecting him. A lot. It’s affecting him a lot, and that’s a good thing because it means he’s just as into this as I am.
We both need more, though, so even though I feel a bit of longing when he pulls away from me, I also feel a deep sense of satisfaction at knowing that whatever comes next is going to be even better than what we’re doing now. Whatever comes next is going to be incredible.
He takes my hand and once more leads me down the narrow hallway. There are flower-shaped wall sconces that light up the hallway, but only slightly. It’s still darker than anywhere in the rest of the house which means this place is one of the creepiest areas I’ve been in.
A certain feeling of heaviness settles over me as the two of us walk down the hallway. What’s going to come next, I wonder? What is this part of the house?
As if reading my mind, Ian starts to talk. “When I built this house, I knew I wanted it to hold many secrets, just as I do.”
Wait, he built the house?
Somehow, I didn’t know that. It’s okay though. It’s kind of nice that there are still things about Ian that I’m learning and discovering. It’s sort of fantastic to me that there are little bits of him that I didn’t know about. I like the fact that there are things I can discover and learn.
“What kind of secrets?”
“You know what I do,” he says quietly.
Only, I don’t. Not really. That’s the whole point, though. When your husband is in the mob, you don’t get to know. You don’t get to know the secrets that he carries or the burdens that rest on his shoulders. It’s all supposed to be a big, terrible secret because it’s scarier that way. Well, also because the fewer people who know the truth, the less likely secrets are to be spilled and shared.
I get that.
“So, what kind of secrets are in your house, Mr. Salucci?” I ask, remembering my manners. Even though I always think of him as “Ian” In my head, I do my best to remember to call himMr. Salucciwhen I speak out loud.
“The kind of secrets a girl like you will never grow tired of,” he tells me.
