A/N: Okay. Here's the deal. This is ENITRELY AU. So no one take my head off. I'm just warning you. For those of you who argue this is completely off base and OOC, it's AU, so I have artistic license. That is just something that should be understood before going in. This is also heavily inspired by the movie Closer. It's awesome and everyone should watch it. This is supposed to be sort of weird and detached. I just hope everyone reads it with an open mind. Another warning: there are all kinds of ships in here, but since this is under the Chuck/Blair category, OF COURSE it's CB. That's all I write. They just go down an AU path to find each other. I hope readers can at least appreciate it. D/B, S/C are in there as well as S/D and the OTP C/B. You have been warned.

Summary:"And I do know you," he said, his breath brushing intimately across her ear. "I know that you hide from him. I know that you're afraid. You think you should be ashamed of your darkness when you truly revel in it."

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Absolutely nothing. Inspiration comes from the genius movie Closer and all characters belong to GG. Thanks so much to comewhatmay.x who pointed out just because you can do something, doesn't mean you have to. She really helped me revise the ending. Just a little fun fact.


Onyx met brown. Eyes wavering and smiling. Their colors were close enough to feign similarities.

Onyx eyes met brown ones.

Close enough.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a writer. What do you do?"

"I'm a powerful woman."

"That's not a career."

"I never said it was. It's just what I do."

Laughter. They were close enough to believe in each other for a while.

"I don't see how we can like each other."

"Do you really think about it like that?"

"How do you think about it?"

"When you feel something, you just feel it."

"Is that why you're with me and not some corporate millionaire?"

"I prefer the corporate billionaires."

More laughter. But there was always that edge of uncertainty.

He was straight. She was mysterious.

It should have worried him.

It should have worried her.

But she was good at pretending.

"I don't see how we can like each other."

"Because we don't fit. Even when we do."

"Do you really think about it like that?"

"How do you think about it?"

"Similarities. We like some of the same things."

"Sometimes."

"Is that how it was with your past boyfriends?"

"My past boyfriends didn't know me."

"What about me?"

"I don't know."

"You don't?"

"When I can tell that you can see every version of myself, from my fake facade down to my twisted insides, I'll let you know."

They shared kisses during old movies and he held her as she wept.

They liked each other for awhile.

Even though he was over the bridge and she was in The City, they worked for awhile. For awhile, it seemed right.

But he was Dan Humphrey.

And she was still Blair Waldorf.

Even if they did care for each other.

.

Blue met brown and finally, he could breathe. She was life and she was light and he suddenly realized what twisted insides meant.

Serena van der Woodsen had no twist to her. She was pure and she was beautiful.

"I read your book."

"How?"

Her mouth quirked and he knew that she was mocking him.

"By opening it and reading the words on the page," she said with a laugh.

"I meant," Dan laughed with her, he never knew he could be so ineloquent—even with a goddess, "I never thought someone like you would-"

"You never thought someone like me could read?"

She was mocking him again.

"What do you mean someone like me?"

She was serious and it broke his heart.

"I just meant-"

"A model?" she tried.

"Someone I was so unworthy of."

She looked down and he couldn't imagine why she was embarrassed.

"Who is she?"

"Who?" he asked.

"The girl in your book," she replied. "It's obviously based on a real person."

"Just a girl."

"A special girl?"

"She's special," Dan allotted. "And she's a girl."

"What's her name?"

For a moment, he couldn't remember.

"She's just okay with you ripping off her life?"

"I didn't—"

She was smiling again.

"You portrayed her very tastefully," she said. He liked how smoothly she rolled over his words. "Even though she's not alright with your portrayal of her home."

"What makes you think she isn't okay with it?" he asked.

"Because you can't tell me her name."

"I'm dedicating the book to her," Dan said distantly, remembering her name for the first time. He snapped out of his daze. "It's a twisted world."

"I know," she replied. "I'm a part of it."

"But you're..."

And for the first time, he knew this was wrong. She was the opposite of the characters in his book, yet she lived the same life.

And she was beautiful.

That was what made her different.

He knew it was dangerous to be around her.

But she was just so beautiful.

"Do you live with her?" Serena asked.

"Sometimes."

Blue eyes were meeting brown ones like their lips and gasps rushed from their lungs.

"Do you love her?"

"Sometimes."

"Is she cruel?"

"What?" Dan asked.

"What are you doing?" Serena responded. "She must be cruel."

"She's..." Dan took a deep breath. "Complicated. And vindictive."

"You're afraid to leave her."

"I'm afraid to break her heart."

"Then she loves you."

She never said it. Not the way he said it. He was sure it was true, but then again, she was complicated.

"I hope so."

"Men are all the same."

"What?" he asked.

"Manipulative. Self-serving. Narcissistic."

"Who is he?"

"What?" she asked.

"The man that makes you want to kiss me."

"A corporate billionaire."

"A narcissistic corporate billionaire," he guessed.

"Is there any other kind?"

"Did he hurt you?" Dan asked.

"He doesn't know what hurt is," Serena said. "He doesn't care enough to hurt me."

"I wish you weren't sad."

"I'm not anymore."

.

One look was all it took. One look, and Blair Waldorf knew.

Dan Humphrey wasn't that good of a liar.

It was so much easier.

"I have to see you again."

Blair wasn't stupid. In fact, she was cunning and intellectual. She didn't need to hear it.

That didn't mean Serena didn't rip her to shreds.

It wasn't Dan's fault. He didn't know that she had irrational insecurity when it came to blondes.

"I have to see you again."

If Blair weren't so disgusted, she would have been surprised at her boyfriend's audacity at propositioning a model when she was in the other room.

.

Onyx eyes met golden eyes.

And everything made sense.

It was strong. Everything about him was strong. His overpowering natural musk. The way his eyes raked lewdly over her.

She ignored him.

Because no one had looked at her like that before.

No one.

"I don't know what I was thinking."

She heard the insistent clicking of his lighter. She should have been repulsed. She usually was.

She still didn't look at him.

But he wasn't acknowledging her either and she didn't like it.

She looked over her shoulder.

Golden eyes were staring right back at her.

"She's beautiful," he said. "Isn't she?"

Blair looked back up at the projection on the far wall. She didn't answer and she took satisfaction at his impatient glare.

"She's a model."

"What does that mean?"

"Does it have to mean anything?" she asked. "It's just a statement."

"But you meant something by it," he said, "with your pointed statement."

"She's generic," she answered. "She looks like every beautiful woman in the world. Of course she's beautiful. But she's a lie."

"Elaborate."

It came out like a command, but the truth was, she liked talking to him.

"She's not perfect," Blair said. "She's not a vision of how the world can be. The world is twisted and ugly and she's lying because she's telling you differently."

"I'm the liar's boyfriend."

Onyx met gold and he liked it. He liked her doubtful eyes. She didn't look embarrassed or horrified. She just looked snide.

Like him.

"You don't look like a boyfriend," she said bluntly.

"It wasn't really a choice," he drawled. "Just something to pass the time."

"Slake the boredom," she mused.

"You know something of it?"

"I know everything about it," she said smoothly. "But I still don't know what I was thinking."

She looked back at the magazine cover with disdain.

"I never should have put some disgusting, cowering cliché on the cover of my magazine."

"Who do you think I am?"

"Some womanizing, selfish, lecherous cliché," Blair said. "You're a match."

"I'm a cliché?" he asked. "As opposed to the jealous dark shadow, envious of the light?"

"Chuck Bass."

"Blair Waldorf."

They exchanged a cordial handshake.

"It was..." Chuck began, "hindering to meet you."

"You flatter me."

"You find strange things flattering."

"Just the truth."

"It's only fair that I tell you what I think of you."

"You already did," she smiled disarmingly.

"Was the book any good?"

He was arrogant.

She didn't like how she didn't hate it.

"We've heard of each other," she said. "That doesn't mean you get to pretend you know me."

"I read it."

"That book isn't about me," Blair answered.

"Isn't it?" he asked. "It's dedicated to you."

"He doesn't know the real me," she answered.

"He's your boyfriend."

"And you're Serena's."

"Are you saying he bores you?" he asked.

"I'm saying he's over there talking to your trophy," Blair sneered.

"You are quite entitled," he mused.

"So are you."

"Are you going to pretend that you know me?" he asked.

"I know you."

"You know the cliché."

He paused.

"He's..." he drawled, "an artist."

"You say that like it's an insult."

"Isn't it?"

"She's an Amazon," Blair sneered.

"That is an insult," he smirked. "But you deserve better."

"Better?" Blair asked.

"He lives in Brooklyn."

"And you live in a penthouse," she answered.

"You should too."

"I did."

"What changed?"

"I'm self-destructive."

"I think I do know you," he replied. "Only my acquaintances call me Chuck."

"Chuck," she breathed and he stilled, "I don't care that you're using her."

"You have a twisted beauty about you," Chuck leaned into her ear.

"Thank you."

"You could at least look at me," he replied.

"Afraid your misplaced confidence will be deterred?" she asked laughingly.

"Don't try that with me," Chuck said. "I know how attractive you find me."

"Don't raise your eyebrows at me," Blair warned. "It makes you look smug."

"I am smug."

His pride was familiar. Too familiar to feel close to him, but they were drawn to each other like magnets anyway.

"And I do know you," he said, his breath brushing intimately across her ear. "I know that you hide from him. I know that you're afraid. You think you should be ashamed of your darkness when you truly revel in it."

"You think you're superior to me."

"I think you are the only person in the world who is my equal."

"Well do you know what I know?"

Her voice took the same husky allure that his did and she couldn't help herself. She couldn't help but tease him.

"I know you want to fuck me. I know that you know Dan and your beloved are in a far more precarious situation than we are. And I know that it doesn't touch you."

"You are self-assured," he said roughly. She let his hand feel her waist.

She let him take liberties with her, and it was only because he looked at her that way.

"And I know you won't let me."

His mouth was always at her ear.

"Only because I like to see you squirm."

"You are cruel," Chuck said. "You are so cruel to be my equal and make me watch you walk away."

"Only because the anticipation is better than the payoff."

"You want to make a wager?" he asked. "I can promise you that I will be the one man to prove you wrong."

"You only say that because I'm walking away from you now."

"Who are you?" Chuck asked.

She never thought it possible he could be as breathless as she.

"Do you have to ask?"

"Blair Waldorf," he said, his voice finally strong, trilling up her back. "You've ruined my life."

"Chuck Bass," she replied. "You like it."

And she walked away.

.

"She's...sly."

Blue met gold eyes and Serena knew she should be worried. She knew how Chuck looked at women. They were objects. Only slightly more demeaning than the way he looked at her. She should be worried.

But he was talking about her and finished looking at her and it was different.

As though he admired that girl with the big onyx eyes.

"She's sweet," Serena contradicted.

She hated that look. That look Chuck assumed when he wanted to make her feel inferior.

Childish and foolish.

"She's deceptive," he said. "She wants you to see the innocence because she's really something else altogether."

"She's sweet."

"She's a sweet liar."

That sounded a lot like love coming off of Chuck's tongue.

She should have been worried.

Now she was just more worried.

.

One look was all it took. One look, and Blair Waldorf knew.

Dan Humphrey wasn't that good of a liar.

It was so much easier.

.

"I'm leaving you."

The valet had barely finished putting his suitcases away after his business trip.

He never missed a beat.

"Let me guess," Chuck said. "Dan Humphrey."

Her eyes wavered with emotion and remorse and it made him sick. Her purity made him sick. It was all so fake and nauseating. Her puppy love with that struggling artist. He should have felt sorry that whatever they had was ending.

But he didn't. All he felt was anger. Indignation.

As much as he knew about Serena's propensity for brooding artists, he never thought he would get left. He did the leaving. He was never left.

Except for one night at that gala.

He was still angry.

But no one ever saw it. And Serena would be the last one he would show—if anyone.

His hands went together in a condescendingly slow clap, and he could only take pleasure in her devastation.

"Bravo," Chuck said mockingly. "What a spectacular display of remorse."

"Chuck. It isn't like that."

"And using a Humphrey, no less," Chuck laughed. "Like I said. Spectacular."

"I love him."

"You don't know what love is."

"And you do?" Serena demanded. "You can't hold this over my head. I know you aren't faithful."

"That was never the deal."

"I know you go to sex clubs and brothels," Serena said. "Dan told me."

"Considering I wasn't exactly hiding it," Chuck said, "I'm not that impressed by your mistress' sleuthing skills."

"You're repellent."

"I'm honest," he said. "Which is more than I can say for you."

"I didn't want this."

"Don't flatter yourself into thinking I give a damn about this sham of a relationship," Chuck laughed.

"You're cruel."

"Honest," he reminded her. "So tell me. How was it?"

She looked scandalized and that was a victory in itself.

"He must have been glorious," Chuck said slickly. "Enough to leave me for. Enough to leave this life of security that you paid for."

"I love him."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"He's sweet with me."

"Don't sugar-coat it, precious," he retorted. "Tell me how good love feels."

"It isn't like that."

"Then tell me what it's like."

"You made it perfectly clear that you never cared about us," Serena said.

"Don't pretend to be so chaste," he said. "You obviously aren't."

"Why do you even care?"

"Because this is my house and you brought some street trash into it," he said. "So tell me."

"He doesn't treat me like a whore," Serena snapped.

"Model, whore," Chuck shrugged. "Semantics, really."

Serena looked away in pain.

"Though I do have to grant you this," Chuck admitted. "You at least had the decency to shower him off of you so I wouldn't be completely disgusted."

"You sleep with whores all the time, Chuck," Serena said sharply.

"So what's one more?" Chuck asked coldly.

.

It was familiar. It was a sweet familiarity that he always felt when he entered the club. It had the boas and the dancers and it reminded him of a more innocent time.

It was familiar.

Very familiar.

He didn't understand it until he saw it.

Until he saw her.

He didn't recognize her at first. She didn't belong here. She was ice and she was fire and she was hot satiation.

But she still didn't belong here.

She wasn't one of his dancers. He didn't pay her.

But she was still there.

"Who's that girl?"

Chuck stared at the woman on stage and for the first time, he smiled. It was a true smile, one without a hint of deception or underhandedness.

"I have no idea."

He didn't know her.

But he did.

.

"What are you doing here?"

She didn't have her dress on. In the private room, they sat across from each other, her legs crossed beneath her slip and he knew how very easily he could take advantage of this situation.

But she was Blair Waldorf.

And he knew that she wouldn't let him.

"You were dancing on the stage of my club," Chuck said. "I have a right to know."

"No," Blair said softly, shaking her head. Her curls were soft and he wanted to touch them. Her heels clicked across the floor of the private suite towards him. "You want to know."

"What are you doing here, lover?"

"Is it exciting you?"

"Everything you do excites me," he answered. "What are you doing here?"

"Dancing."

"Why?"

"I needed to escape."

It sounded like the first honest thing she ever said to him.

"Tell me," Chuck said, leaning towards her. He liked that slip. "How is that working out for you?"

"It wasn't," Blair whispered back. "Until now."

"And what about you?" he asked. "Does being here for me excite you?"

"I'm not here for you," she said coolly.

"Tell me you weren't dancing up there for me."

"I didn't know you would be here," she said indifferently. "I didn't know you owned this place."

"Yes you did," he said. "Just like I know about your magazine and your tragic break-up with your artist and that penthouse on Park that you actually deserve."

"You've been stalking me," she teased. But she sounded flattered and he knew that was why he was here with her.

"My private investigators stalk you," Chuck said apathetically. "I lurk."

"Why?"

"Because I'm obsessed with you."

There was no lie there.

"We met once," Blair reminded him. "A year ago."

"There's a reason why I haven't forgotten."

"That's a compliment, coming from you," she commented.

"As if you know me."

"I do."

"And I know you," Chuck acknowledged. He moved closer. Always closer. "I see you."

He was drawling and he was slurring and that alcohol on his breath should have repulsed her.

But she was full of surprises tonight.

"I don't like it."

She still liked lying to him.

"Yes, you do," he said darkly. His eyes weren't on her face. "You love how uncomfortable I make you."

"As uncomfortable as this?"

The strap of her slip fell. His hand hovered over her porcelain shoulder. She slid away.

"You're not allowed to do that."

"Why not?"

"It's your club," she reminded him. "You make the rules. No touching."

"You're not a dancer."

"I'm just a slut, then?" she asked.

"You're a goddess," he said. "I want to touch you."

"Are you sure you can handle me?" she taunted.

"I'm sure as hell going to try."

"I'll call security."

"My club, sweetness," he said. "I'll do what I like."

"You'll behave yourself," Blair said.

"I'd rather not," he said. "I'd rather you take it all off. I'd rather touch you."

"I'm not a whore."

"I never said I was going to pay you," he said. He was getting close again.

"Then I'd be the first who can say that."

"I didn't know you'd be here."

"Stalker."

"I didn't," he insisted. "But I'm sure as hell glad I came."

"Oh, I know you want to."

"You are filthy," he said in admiration. "You are so deceptively filthy that no one can tell you're filthy. Or tell your beauty. I love rolling in your filth."

"Better than he did."

"He didn't understand you."

"Did she?"

"Never."

"I always had to indulge the nice ones," she said. "Those are always the ones who will betray you."

"Nice," Chuck remarked. "Do you think that's a bad thing?"

"You don't," she retorted.

"Do you think that's a bad thing?" he repeated.

She was wearing very little clothing.

"Yes."

She was being honest again.

"If I hadn't gone for them, you wouldn't have caught me off guard."

She liked playing him.

And he liked playing with her.

"You love me."

Her eyes narrowed

"As much as you love me," she said carefully. She couldn't give that away.

He tried a different approach.

"Tell me you're not in love with me," he tested her.

"You don't know me."

"Tell me you're not in love with me."

"I'm not."

"Liar. Your eyes are doing that thing where they don't match your mouth."

"You don't know me."

She was sounding less and less convinced.

"It's arousing how you lie to my face."

His breath was on her lips and she had forgotten how to put on her armor.

"Did you love her?"

She had to ask.

"As much as I love a good fuck," Chuck said.

She loved his indifference.

"But I never needed her," he continued. "I never needed anyone. But right now it feels as though I'm suffocating."

"Then say it," she commanded.

"I love you so much it hurts."

"Now you know how love feels."

"Did you?"

"Not until this moment."

"And about them?" he asked.

"I never realized what it was," she said.

"I know," he said.

"It's not the cheating," she said.

"I know."

"It's not that he didn't love me."

"I know."

"I couldn't care less," she said. "It's the humiliation."

His arms were around her without touching her and she wanted to drown in his heat.

"He has resorted me to my lowest point," she said. "I have never been more disgusted with myself. Humiliated by a Humphrey."

"While I'm humiliated by a whore," he responded, almost reprimanding himself.

"I'm not your pawn," she warned.

"Who said you were?" he asked.

"I'm not going to fuck you."

"But you want to," he husked. "You desire me like you've never desired anyone in your life."

"I won't be used by you to get back at her."

"And I would rather die than be used to get back at a Humphrey," he said. "Now take your clothes off."

"Make me."

"I can't touch you," Chuck said.

"And you're not going to."

She was too smug for her own good.

.

"You slept with him."

It wasn't a question and blue eyes were looking away from heartbroken brown ones and he couldn't take it.

"I'm sorry, Dan."

"You hate him," he protested. "After everything he said to you that night, and you just...you-"

"I did it for you."

It was so quiet and so unassuming, he almost missed it.

"For me?" he asked.

"For us," she said. "He's sick and he's twisted, but now he'll leave us alone."

"Don't you get it?" Dan asked. "He's diabolical and he's clever. He did this for a reason."

She was quiet.

"Did you ever think that wasn't it?" Dan asked. "Did you ever think that he had more motive than just a warm body for the night?"

"No..." Serena said hesitantly.

No, she didn't.

.

He was imposing. Dan wasn't sure how he even got into the grand office, but the secretary had let him gain entrance and now Chuck Bass was staring at him expectantly from his desk.

"My time is limited."

"I miss her."

"Not my problem," Chuck laughed.

"If you hadn't..."

"If I hadn't what?" Chuck asked. "Slept with my girlfriend?"

"She wasn't yours anymore," Dan said.

"That's why it was fun," Chuck said.

"You're depraved."

"That's the fun part."

"Serena doesn't see it," Dan said. "But you didn't do this just for the sake of doing it. You have a plan."

"She was willing, I was able," Chuck shrugged. "Things happen."

"Don't say that she wanted it-"

"I didn't violate her," Chuck rolled her eyes. "Her chastity act is getting tiresome. Especially from those who believe it."

"You don't love her."

"Of course I don't," Chuck said. "I didn't do it out of the goodness of my heart."

"You don't have a heart."

"Not a simple one, at least," Chuck said. "I did it to sabotage you. That's what you came here for, isn't it? For confirmation? Well there it is. My sole purpose was to make you suffer. Having done so, you can leave now."

"Why do you care about my suffering?" Dan asked. "You don't even know me."

Dan wouldn't call it uncertainty. But there was something about Chuck's expression was different in comparison to before.

"This wasn't about Serena at all," Dan realized.

"So dramatic," Chuck sighed. "You should be a writer."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because I can," Chuck said. "Because I like destroying people's lives."

"You sound like-"

Dan cut himself off. He saw that knowing smirk on Chuck's face, the one that he no longer desired to keep hidden.

"You can't humiliate powerful people without repercussions," Chuck said. "It's just something you have to learn."

"You saw her?" Dan asked.

"At my club," Chuck said. "You know the one."

"The strip joint," Dan said in disgust.

"Burlesque club," Chuck corrected. "She was quite...uninhibited."

"You're a psychopath."

"Would you care to be more specific?" Chuck asked. "It's been a busy few days."

"Busy screwing her," Dan spat.

"Blair?" Chuck asked. Dan hated the way the name rolled off the hedonist's tongue with such familiarity. "I wouldn't worry about that. She was too concerned with your destruction than with my alluring seduction. I have to admire the girl for that."

"You destroyed Serena and me," Dan said. "You ripped us apart."

"You can't say that you didn't have it coming," Chuck said. "Destruction is what I do best. It's the same with Blair."

It was too familiar.

"Tell me why you did it."

"Just because you didn't understand Blair didn't give you the right to tear her apart," Chuck said. "You humiliated her. And for that, she desired your punishment."

"You did that for her?" Dan asked. "Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"I'm getting slightly bored with this conversation," Chuck said. "You have your answer. You can leave now."

Dan did turn to leave. He did put his hand on the doorknob and he was about to turn it.

But it was still bothering him.

"But you did it for her," Dan said. "You don't even know her."

"You really are a glutton for punishment," Chuck said, "aren't you?"

And Dan knew it was coming.

"I must say Humphrey, I don't do this often," he said. "I find it unbecoming. But since you asked so nicely, I feel obligated to tell you. I lied. I rode her all night. And she liked it."

.

"Who else?"

"I shouldn't be here."

"Who else sees you like this?"

"No one sees me like this. Ever."

"Why?"

"I shouldn't be here."

"Why?"

"Because you're a seducer."

"So are you. It's just no one ever admitted it before."

"You're missing your dress."

Golden eyes lusted and penetrated, but she refused to show any sort of weakness.

"You're missing propriety."

"You're tired of propriety. You were tired of him."

"Do you find yourself exciting?"

"You tell me. You're in the back of my limo."

"I'm not missing my dress."

Golden eyes eyed her cautiously.

"We're not inside anymore," she said.

"You really are a temptress," he smirked.

"I don't want to be a whore."

"I've met whores. You're a queen."

"Don't flatter me."

"Why? Is it working?"

"Because I am one."

"That makes you sound smug."

"I am smug."

Slinking bodies, twisting souls and he was leaning over her. She allowed his body to press against hers almost horizontally.

"Do you desire me?"

"Do you normally ask that question?"

"Never."

They were breathless.

"Why me?"

"Why me?" he asked in response.

"You love my twisted insides," she said. "Don't you?"

"I love every inch inside of you," he said hotly, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on her neck.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"I have twisted insides of my own."

"I know you want to fuck me."

He was hot. He was chilled.

She was twisted.

"Are you going to let me this time?" he asked. "I can love you like no one else."

"I'd like to see you try," she said laughingly.

"Is that a challenge?"

"You can take it as one," she taunted. "See what happens."

She was sweet. And she was fragrant.

In all the right places.

"You are filthy."

It came out as a groan.

"And twisted."

Pant.

"And made for me."

Gasp.

Her heels dug into his lower back, nails biting into flesh as he marred her himself with his teeth.

"You're conceited," she laughed.

Groan.

Pant.

Gasp.

"Did he ever touch you like this?"

"Shut up."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want this to stop."

groanpantgasp.

"Never," he promised.

It was hard and it was fast and it was satiating.

It was rough.

They squirmed and bit and thrashed.

They screamed.

They felt.

"Again."

.

It was dark.

But he wasn't fooled. The parlor was dark, but he could see through the foyer. He knew better. He wouldn't take the bait.

He knew where she was.

Heels clicked across the tile and there was his seductress in red.

Tight, red, and pulsing.

She was staring at him expectantly.

"It's done."

He didn't move forward. Her eyes were guarded.

"And?" she pressed.

He felt it between them.

"I did what you asked," he said. "He humiliated you. And you demanded satisfaction. I destroyed them for you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She finally relented. She eased her hands over his wrists, but looked down at the ground.

"Blair."

"I did," she admitted. "I just didn't expect how it would make me feel."

"And what is that?"

"You slept with her."

His hands loosened, but slid down her body to her hips.

"I ruined them."

"She ruined me."

"The way you wanted it."

"You make me want to be myself," she said.

There was that look. That prolonged look that always seemed to exist between them from the beginning. They knew each other. They saw each other. They were twisted and filthy for each other.

It was right.

His hand was locked behind her head. She didn't pull away.

She never pulled away.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and they were struggling and pulling at each other so passionately they left marks.

"I love you."

"God, I love you."