Sorry we took so long…

Teehee...

REVIEW! LOOOOOOOOOOONG REVIEWS ARE COOL... Gah, I miss long reviews.

Love Lolly and Aina.

- 8 -

So there I was, sitting in a car with the Paul Slater. The one who I had vowed to stay away from, and yet the one I couldn't. He hadn't said anything to me since we left my hotel room, which I was fine with. He was probably relishing his victory or something. Victory over me.

But really, who could I blame but myself?

I wondered where he's taking us for dinner. I hoped it's not some fancy candlelit restaurant. But then I hoped it's not McD's either.

I looked sideways at her as I was driving. Not all that many people drive in New York. I was one of the not many. I preferred to rely on my own vehicle as opposed to public transport.

She wasn't speaking to me. Which was understandable. I vaguely wondered if I should have struck up conversation . . . but I didn't. She wouldn't have appreciated it, at all.

I could feel him staring at me . . . and my heart started racing. Damn heart. Why must you betray me? Here I was feeling guilty with Jesse's voice still in my head and yet . . . there was that part of me that was actually looking forward to this.

This being having dinner with Paul. Hah. I think the only time I ever actually had dinner with him was during our first date back in high school. Of course, I had no idea who he was and what he was capable of doing.

I saw her gaze flicker to my side of the car very briefly, before hurriedly looking away. I smirked. Ah, Suze . . . you don't realize how gorgeous you are . . .

Because she didn't. I mean, she knew she was pretty. She had confidence. But . . . I doubted she REALLY knew. She had this sweet modesty about her. Like, if someone told her how beautiful she was, she wouldn't believe it.

And that was so damned sexy . . .

I'd known girls who KNEW they were stunning. Legs that went on forever, huge eyes, impeccable make-up, killer rack, curvy, tall . . .

But they KNEW it. They were arrogant about it. Like me. I'm an insensitive asshole. I know the affect that I have on women. I use it to my advantage. I, in know way, doubt the power of my physique.

Suze did.

Her physique, not mine.

That notch of naive uncertainty was extremely attractive. And she didn't even know THAT.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that she was married . . .

Wow, Slater. You've found your new target category.

Except . . . I know that was insane, but . . . I didn't WANT to think about anything that would happen after Suze. Because God, I loved everything about her. The way she made me feel, the way I made HER feel . . . I didn't want to contemplate anything that would come after this fling was over. Because that's all it was.

I just wish it weren't.

I never knew how to react around him. I always ended up feeling like some 10-year-old kid with a crush. Not that I have a crush on him, NO.

But . . . it felt exciting. It felt new. This feeling of abandon and letting go of thinking about the consequences of my actions. Like I was being given a taste of freedom in a very long time.

Did I want it to last? That's the question. Because I think I knew that whatever I have with Paul . . . will be just that. Nothing more.

And I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.

I took a deep breath. "Where are we going?"

There was a red light. So I stopped. As people sometimes do . . .

I looked sideways at her again. She was staring forward, her eyelids half-closed in reflection. The side profile of her lips was so . . . perfect. They pouted down. Their shape was perfect. Her eyelashes were long. And her skin was flawless . . .

I coughed, and stopped looking at her. 'TGI's.'

Okay. Not too fancy, not too drab. I'll take that.

We'd stopped at a traffic lights, and without the sound of the car moving, the silence in it was deafening. I wondered why he didn't turn on the radio.

I glanced at him. This time, he wasn't looking at me, but at the side rearview mirror. I noticed that he had a really nice profile, probably because he has the perfect bone structure. I wondered why he never considered modeling. He would have been successful in that, I believed.

But then again, he would have been successful in anything. What he wanted, he got.

I wondered if I should shoot myself for thinking so much about Paul Slater

When the traffic started moving again - what? It was 8pm on a Saturday night, it DOES get busy - I continued driving in the most perfect silence, till I pulled in at TGI Friday's. I carefully reversed into a parking space, holding the back of Suze's car seat as I did so.

'Okay,' I smiled at her. In the warm, yet cold light, she looked beautiful.

She always looked beautiful though.

Without really looking at me - or regarding me in any way, shape or form - she exited my car. Raising my eyebrows, I did so as well. I looked over at the restaurant. It was pretty busy. Full of a bunch of people that I didn't know, that Suze didn't know, and Jesse didn't know. People that didn't even care we were in there. No one to link us being there together as anything less than moral.

I looked around as we entered the restaurant, and briefly worried if anyone from my office accidentally sees us together. But then there's nothing that could make them think that we were nothing more than friends.

Look could be so deceiving.

The place was packed. As usual, the setting inside the TGIs were dark but cozy, with families eating and chatting happily at the booths and tables while a bunch of guys hung out at the bar at the other side of the room. The smell of the food were delicious, and I suddenly felt starved. I hadn't eaten anything all day.

The waitress lead us to a table at one side of the room, not exactly hidden, but not exactly out in the open. I

I was glad that I had on a simple blouse and black pants instead of something fancier. Looking at the other people there in their normal clothes, barely glancing at us, I felt my pulse slowed down almost to its normal rate.

I didn't look at Paul the whole time.

I sat down opposite her, and she refused to meet my eye. She just grabbed the menu straight away, and pretended to occupy herself with that.

'Suze,' I almost laughed. I leant across the table a little, and grabbed her hand. THAT made her look up at me. She didn't pull away, but she didn't exactly look thrilled at the fact I was touching her.

Under different circumstances, she may have been a little more pleased.

But we both had our clothes on at the moment. So this wasn't one of those circumstances.

I should let go of his hand. But I couldn't. For some weird reason, it felt comforting . . . his warm hand on my cold one. It was easy to just melt away . . .

I pulled away my hand, in the guise that I needed to hold the menu with both hands. Even though I didn't need to.

With a pang of disappointment - after all, that's what she always did; pulled away just when I'd gotten hold of her, because she was never mine to hold - I too busied myself with menu perusal.

'What do you want?' I asked her.

I almost laughed out loud when he asked me that.

What do I want? What do I WANT? Do you really want to know, Paul?

I want to stop feeling so damn guilty. I want to stop feeling thrilled when you look at me. I want to go back in time and prevent us from meeting again. I want to go home and cry myself to sleep. I want to freaking STOP cheating on Jesse. I want to eat but not when you're looking at me like you're hungry for something else. I want to tell you that I feel the same way too.

I want to call Jesse and hear his voice again. But at the same time I want to you to touch me like you did that night, and for that, I want to kill myself.

'Suze?' I asked. She was looking glazed again. 'What do you want to eat?'

So much want, so little ways to fulfill them. I guess that's what makes life so unpredictable.

I glanced down at the menu and read the words in a daze. Randomly, I chose some chicken meal that looked appetizing, as compared to the others. Truth was, I suddenly felt like my appetite was gone. But I told Paul my order anyway.

I nodded with smirk. 'Chicken Caesar it is. Salad or fries?'

This waiter walked up to our table, notebook in hand. I saw his eyes wander to Suze, down to her hand, to her ring, to me, and then quickly back to his notebook.

Sorry buddy, she's taken.

Yeah, I know. Sucks, doesn't it?

'Ready to order?' he raised his eyebrows.

I looked over at Suze. She looked like the salad type of girl to me. 'She'll have a Chicken Caesar with salad,' I said, 'And . . . Diet Coke.'

Suze looked up at me in surprise, smiled, but then quickly looked away.

'I'll get . . . scotch fillet steak, thanks. Very well done. And a Pepsi.'

He jotted that down.

'Yep,' he said. 'Won't be too long.'

He left.

I looked back over at Suze, who looked particularly disheartened at the fact that there was going to be waiting required, in order for us to eat. She looked positively dismayed, actually.

Wow, that was an ego booster.

Heh. It's okay, Suze. You boost my ego in . . . other ways.

I had hoped the service here was fast. I couldn't stand sitting around here waiting, especially when he stared at me like that.

It wasn't good for my heart rate.

I looked around the restaurant, and felt a pang as I saw a young couple sitting close to each other, obviously in love. I wished that had been Jesse and me, instead of with . . .

'So Suze.'

I turned to look at him, but without actually looking. In fact, I was looking at the decoration just behind him. Apparently he wanted to attempt a conversation now. Well, let him try.

Okay, fine. If that's the way you want to play it . . . I can talk at you, Simon.

I smirked a little. 'So,' I said. 'How's that job that you came all the way to New York for? Good? I hope it's better than work for me at the moment . . . I have this case where I have to prove this guy's innocence. Kicker is, his case is that a ghost killed the victim in question. Ironic, wouldn't you say?'

I stared at him. I wasn't really sure if he was telling the truth, but if it was true, his case did sound interesting.

'How do you know that it was a ghost who killed the victim?' I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

I raised my eyebrows. 'I don't,' I said. 'I'm pretty sure he's not lying - no fool would honestly use that as a story and expect to get off with it.'

'He might be mentally unstable,' I shrugged.

'That's the other possibility,' I nodded. 'I mean . . . I thought my own brother was until I met you . . . I thought he just knew select things about me, and was copying me. Turns out he was the real deal, though.'

I tilted my head at her.

I stared at him, feeling angry all of a sudden. 'So when your brother said he can see ghosts, you immediately assume that he's crazy? Even though you can see them too? What a caring brother you are.'

I turned my head and fixed my gaze at the table besides us. Typical Paul.

I regarded her coolly. 'I'd never seen him show any sign of having the same ability as me, Suze. I had no reason to believe that he was a mediator.'

'Oh, so did I made a mistake in assuming that he actually told you that he can see ghosts? When in fact, he never mentioned it at all. Is that it?'

I really wasn't comfortable with this topic at all. Whatever I said would make me sound like an ass. Because yes, I did withhold certain information from my brother when we were younger . . . but that was none of Suze's business. And I cared too much about what she thought of me . . .

I shouldn't have. But I did.

I blinked slowly, before smiling. 'Oh look,' I said. 'Dinner's here.'

- 8 -

Thank God dinner was over. I didn't think I could stand his stares any longer. Especially with that look in his eyes that screamed 'I want you.'

Well, Paul, I don't want you.

I stood up and got my coat from behind the chair, careful to avoid his eyes.

I paid for the meal, and hurried behind her. In her ear, I whispered, 'What's the rush, Simon?'

I didn't reply, but pulled away instead. The farther away from him, the better.

Of course, that might be a little difficult seeing that I had to be in the same car with him.

And then I realised what he had just called me. Feeling my anger returning, I turned to him and spat, 'My name is NOT Simon.'

I smiled infuriatingly. 'Oh, what is it then?' I asked, 'De Silva? Suze . . . if you were really Susannah de Silva, I would not have been in HERE earlier today.'

And my hand brushed . . . well, go figure.

She shuddered, looking hurt. I went on, 'Oh, your name might LEGALLY be Suze de Silva. But morally? Not so much. You'll always be my Suze Simon.'

I gritted my teeth, itching to slap his stupid smug face. I tried not to think about the truth in his words and how much it hurt. I wanted to be angry because it would make me feel less...guilty.

'I am NOT yours. And I made a mistake being with you. It didn't reflect anything on my name, which is still, and will always be, Suze de Silva,' I said, trying my best not to yell in public.

'Try telling yourself that,' I smirked back at her, before walking ahead to my car.

'Well, you know it's true!' I said to his back.

I didn't make any move to follow him. Getting into a car with him after that? No thanks. Like I said, the farther the better.

I got to my car door, and laughed when I saw her still standing by the restaurant door, looking angry, upset and indignant.

'Come on,' I chuckled, 'I'll take you home, get in . . . '

'I think I'll take a cab,' I replied stiffly, before looking down the street for any signs of the usually ever-present taxis.

I leant against the car door, smirking.

I could wait...

He didn't say anything, but I didn't hear his car starting either. After a while I glanced back and saw, to my dismay, that he was still there. Standing against his car, his hands in his pockets like he was posing for a GQ magazine or something.

It did not help that Paul in black looked hella good. Irresistible and dangerous, and he reminded me of the cold professional assassins in the movies who went around killing people, except Paul Slater seems to be the type who goes around sleeping with people.

Shit, he caught me staring at him. Now he was smirking. I looked away, blushing horribly.

Why did he made me feel this way?

'Suze,' I repeated, finding this all so damned amusing, 'Get in the car.'

She looked completely torn. It made everything even funnier . . .

'No,' I snapped.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, reigning back my laugh. 'Oh?'

She was always so immature . . . especially in situations in which she knew she was going to lose.

'Because if I have to drag you in here, I will,' I added, lacing my words with mild threat. 'Or, you know, I could just give my pal Jesse a call, and give him the lowdown on his wife's sexcapades over the past few days - '

My blood froze. I swear, I felt it FREEZE.

How could he? He wouldn't!

'You wouldn't!' I said, staring at him in shock. 'Even you wouldn't stoop that low!'

'I think that we've established how low I'd go where you're concerned,' I said innocently.

God, I love innuendo.

She heard THAT double-meaning loud and clear.

Bastard.

I slapped him.

It was the hardest I've ever slapped anyone, but it didn't feel enough. Not even CLOSE. I raised my hand to slap him again, but he caught it.

I snickered in her face. Her expression was priceless: rage, shock, guilt, shame, and torture. My cheek stung, but I didn't care. After I had her wrist in my hand, I leant her against the side of the car, jamming her hand beside her head, smiling down at her.

She looked, plainly, terrified.

Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have slapped him.

'Let go of me,' I hissed. Funny how it seemed like I was always saying that around him.

'I already did once,' I said down at her. 'I'm not going to do it again . . .'

'Are you aware that we are in PUBLIC?' I tried to shove him away.

I smirked. 'What's wrong, Suze? Scared someone'll . . . see?' I pressed against her harder and she gasped.

He was right, but I wasn't going to admit the fact that I was terrified that one of my colleagues would walk by and see me with this jerk, and decided to inform Jesse.

I would die. Just keel over and die.

I tried a different tack. 'If you don't let go of me, I will scream.'

'You know what I like,' I said softly. I didn't care who was watching. I didn't care about much anymore . . .

Oh God, this is not happening. It's like he's gone crazy...wait, isn't that how he's always been. Even at school he didn't care about anyone else who could be watching. As long as he got what he wanted.

What scared me was that if he kept going at this, soon I wouldn't care too.

His lips...so close, so inviting...and his hypnotic blue eyes...

I couldn't believe this was happening.

'Paul, if you let go of me, I'll get in the car with you. Okay?'

Personally, I didn't really mind either way. I was content to do her there and then.

But out of pure courtesy to her, I moved away from her obediently, smiling.

I love winning.

I'd shaken her up considerably, though. When she opened the passenger's car door, her hands were trembling a little.

I hated him. He ALWAYS gets what he wants. Why couldn't I get what I want for once?

A voice in my head reminded me that if I hadn't slept with Paul in the first place, none of this would have happened.

I slammed the door shut as hard as I could, hoping it will cause his car some damage. I was angry, and humiliated, and scared. I didn't think he was finished with me.

I loved this game . . . I loved how it seemed like it would never end . . . I knew it would, but while I was still playing the game, I was determined to enjoy it before everything crashed down. Because that was the only ending this situation would have; a bad one.

I'm not stupid. I can figure THAT much out.

But considering that bad ending was probably going to be worse off for de Silva, I was not exactly complaining.

And I'm not deluding myself into thinking that somehow, after all of this, Suze'd somehow be mine. As much as I wanted it, I knew I was kidding myself to even hope for it.

Once in the car beside her, I threw her a sideways look. She was staring down at her hands, her lips parted. Her hair shone in the light from the TGI sign beside my car.

The silence was deafening. I didn't dare to look at him, though. I felt like he could see right through me...and I was vulnerable to everything that he offered.

What was he offering? Sex? Why couldn't I just say no?

I must stop thinking before I get all teary. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

I kept my head down and stared at my hands. He didn't say anything too, and I was glad.

Since she wasn't exactly watching the road, it wouldn't hurt if I took her home a . . . different way, right?

I turned left instead of right at an intersection. She didn't notice. I smiled, and drove on slyly.

As soon as I get back to my hotel room, I will sleep. That was the best thing to do. Because when you're sleeping, you're not thinking...or feeling.

Everything is always alright in a sleep.

I checked her again to make sure that she wasn't looking up, before turning left into the entrance of the basement parking lot under the Marionette Hotel. I had the parking card due to my company always having conferences there, and I took out the card to bypass the payment booth.

That's when she looked up.

'Where the hell are we going?' I said before I could stop myself. I felt panicky, and damn right I should. We were in what seemed to be a FREAKING basement. 'You said you were going to take me home!'

I didn't even know what made me drive there . . . I just couldn't help myself. I wanted her so badly that it almost made me freakin' INSANE.

I parked the car in the corner of the underground parking lot, before turning to her.

My heart was pounding, and I did NOT like the look in his eyes. Oh I've seen it before, only the circumstances and PLACES were different.

'Paul!' I smacked his arm. 'Take me home, right now!'

I kept the anger in my voice, because fear was creeping up inside me. This was bad...

'Why?' I demanded, grabbing her wrist. 'We both know you don't want to be anywhere else but here . . . and besides, Suze, home? You consider that hotel to be home? Or do you mean you want to go back to Jesse? Because I honestly can't see why you would want to. You're obviously not HAPPY at home.'

'How the hell would you know what I want? Just because we've...we've...' I couldn't bring myself to say exactly what we did '...WHATEVER, you think you know me? You don't, Paul! And the hotel IS my home here!'

'Just because we've what, Suze?' I raised my eyebrows. 'Had sex? Come on, Suze, you're DOING it, surely you can SAY it.'

I swallowed painfully, feeling worse and worse each second. Of course it didn't seem like such a big deal to him, who probably screws girls on an hourly basis. Who was I to him, other than another conquest?

'Take me back to the hotel,' I panted.

'Huh?' I said angrily at her silence, 'What's wrong Suze, still in denial? Well, here's us in a nutshell. You're cheating on your husband with me, and fucking HELL, you're loving it.'

'Let go of me!' I pulled my hands from his iron grip. Or, tried to.

Shut up. SHUT UP. I wanted to block his words, but they were too loud, too true.

How the hell was I supposed to respond to something like that?

I loved it how she wouldn't even LOOK at me. She KNEW I was right.

'No,' I hissed at her. 'Actually, okay, yeah, I will. But first we're going to play a game. By my rules, of course. If I lose, I'll drive you back. But if I win . . . '

'Okay,' I said, breathless. I could win some stupid game, easily.

What? Did she think I was talking about a staring competition, or something?

Oh, no. My game was simple: I kissed her, and if she responded, she was mine. If she didn't, she was Jesse's. And I'd drive her back to her damned hotel . . .

Of course, I wasn't going to make it some weak, crappy kiss.

No. I was going to have to hurt her in order to get what I wanted.

So I leaned over in my car seat, kissing her forcefully.

Sure, she screamed at me and told me to get the hell off of her. She hit me, and she cried out. Which was why I chose this location to start with.

Of course he would do this. THIS was what he had planned, to get me to be where he wanted and to give in to him.

Well, I won't. Which was why I fought him. Yeah, I screamed, I pushed, I pulled my head away from his poisonous lips. I must be strong. I couldn't...couldn't slip into his spell again.

I moved away from her, feeling the fire roaring inside me. I saw the horror in her eyes. But if she thought I'd given up, she was so wrong . . .

Instead, I crawled into the backseat swiftly, before grabbing her shoulders and dragging her there too. Again, she started screaming at me to stop. I can't tell you how many times she claimed to hate me. Oh, I bet she did . . .

I yanked her shirt up over her head, and she was still flailing, and begging for me to stop. When her shirt was off, I shoved her down against the car seat, kissing her deeply; forcefully; furiously.

'Paul, STOP IT!' I didn't know how many times I'd screamed those words, along with a few unprintables. I was scared of this aggressiveness that suddenly took over him, like he was possessed. He was never like this, not even when we.. did it the last time.

I tried to pull my hands away, maybe to slap him again, but his grip was unrelenting. As was his mouth on mine.

The problem with this fight was that when his hands started to feel every inch of my body, and his breath hot on my skin, it was hard to remember that I was SUPPOSED to fight.

Was this a game to him? To prove to me that he would win, every time?

She was doing everything she could to resist. And it was impressive, I guess, how long she lasted.

But I wanted her too badly for her to even stand a CHANCE.

And sure enough, after a few minutes, I'd found my Suze Simon again. . .

She couldn't get enough of me.

She was kissing back with forced that almost matched mine. I felt her nails digging into my shoulders. She was gasping, and moaning, and hating me, and loving how I made her feel . . .

All over again, I was intoxicated by her.

The thrill of winning electrified me. I kissed her relentlessly, my hands reaching for everything they could of her.

Hard to remember. Hard to think. Hard to breathe.

Easy to feel. Everything...

And despite what I tried to convinced myself, I WAS loving it, loving everything that he was doing to me. And it was wrong, like I already said, like I already knew, but when you're feeling like this...

There's nothing left to do but return it.

With a blur of kisses and hate and passion, I had her weak again. Staring down at her as I . . . ahem, it killed me to see the look of hurt in her eyes. As much as I disregarded it, I still hated seeing her like that.

She was in no position to argue with me anymore. Not when I had her at her most vulnerable. It was at this point that I had her defeated; totally incapable of fighting me away.

Hopefully, though, the pleasure drowned her pain.

There was no point in playing this game anymore. He would come up the winner every single time, and he knew it. And worse than that?

He knew that I knew it too.