Chapter 20
“Work has been insane lately,” Bianca is complaining, waving her fork around as Buffy the Vampire Slayer monopolizes the television in the background. “Meetings, meetings, meetings, always back-to-back. I have to start scheduling bathroom breaks, can you believe it?”
“They still haven’t hired the backfill for your teammate?” Kara asks, glancing over at the tv as Spike and Buffy squabble with all that violent sexual tension of theirs. Perhaps she now understands why this was her favorite dynamic when she was younger. “What are they waiting for?”
A scoff. “You know how it is. Do more with less, babe. Oh. Oh!! This part. ” They both pause to stare at the scene unfolding on the screen. Bianca grins knowingly, “This was your favorite season in college, wasn’t it? Being the Spike girl that you are.”
“Well, you loved Angel.” Kara teases right back. “Someone has to love Spike, might as well be me.”
“There’s gotta be a vampire for all tastes, am I right?” Bianca replies with a wink. “Dark and handsome. Or enemies to enemies that bang?”
Kara makes an ugly, surprised noise. “Don’t make me feel seen .”
Bianca laughs cheerily.
They sit side by side on the couch with the dinner they cooked together, watching their old college favorite. They decided to start rewatching it from the beginning a few weeks back, making their way through a few episodes at a time.
Kara has finally been able to see Bianca more this week, considering she’s been ignoring Dieter’s requests for in-person meetings these past few days. They’ve been conversing via email and text, even though he’s tried calling a few times. She’s fucking mad at him.
The next Buffy episode is just starting to roll on up, the iconic opening song playing when the lock clicks on the front door.
Bianca snaps her head to look at the doorway, looking put out. “Are you expecting someone? Bitch . It’s my night!”
Kara turns her head as well, confused and vaguely worried. Her strange stalker wouldn’t be trying to break in right now , would he? Her hand clutches her fork a little tighter while she maintains a calm tone, wondering what action she would take if some evil-doing bastard broke in right now. “Do you think it’s a vampire?”
Briefly, she remembers that night she called Nick and how he turned a fear into a sick desire.
“You know the rules!” Bianca says in a comically hushed voice, eyes wide as she stares at the doorway. “They can only enter if we invite them in-”
The door opens and Dieter walks in as if it’s his own damn home, casually toeing off his fine leather shoes and placing his sportcoat on a hanger in the closet. Everything about him is upscale casual, from his jeans to his expensive button-down. He loosens his tie and unbuttons a bit, in the manner of an absolute gigolo. He tosses Kara’s spare key into the side table dish; she forgot he damn well stole it weeks ago.
Kara can almost hear her eyeballs rolling in her skull. The nerve of him to come here after what he did… offensive. And so utterly him.
“The Rules of Invitation didn’t work,” Bianca finishes in a dry voice as she stares at him, vaguely ogling, eyes traveling up and down his form. Kara chokes on her own spit. “Must be a myth.”
Dieter glances over at them as if they’re the ones intruding this evening. Dieter’s brow shifts with amusement when he catches sight of the tv screen. “Slaying vampires tonight, ladies? How very 90s of you.”
Bianca blinks her big round eyes and continues to gape at him, fork slowly making its way to her plate. She knows who he is; she’s seen him before. She also knows the role he plays in Kara’s life now. “That depends. Are you willing to be slayed?”
Laughing faintly as he wanders through Kara’s kitchen, Dieter replies, “Many have tried, all have failed. Disappointing, almost.” He grabs a water bottle from the refrigerator and makes a face as he does so. To Bianca, he quips, “Does she really make you go sober when you’re here, too? Not a drop of alcohol in this place. It’s appalling.”
Kara feels one of her eyes twitch and continues to eat, trying to not pay attention to him. He’s not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to just show up like he lives here, as if he’s her boyfriend. He’s not . She can see the wheels turning in Bianca’s head already.
He ends up seated on the other side of Kara, pressed against the line of her body. The heat of him makes her think of things that have no business being in her head right now. Inappropriate things that bring shame and make her face feel flushed. The press of his body is a reminder of what a tease he is. He ruins her anger and that grates on her every last nerve.
The fresh scent of him makes her think of his lips and the dangerous things they say and do. Of how she’d like to pin him down and have her way, make him submit to her-
He tried to get you drunk without telling you , she reminds herself hatefully.
“What are you doing here, Lestat ?” She asks him with no small hint of annoyance, trying to hide the way he’s completely thrown her off balance.
“Checking in on you, Louis .” The fast quip is stated with a sly grin on his mouth. “All you’ve done is sent me billable hours via email the past few days and I’m beginning to feel neglected .”
“God forbid I behave like a normal professional who bills their client for services rendered.” Kara’s done a few contracts for him and answered one minor lawsuit against his name.
“I needed you present.”
A caustic scoff. “For what? ”
“ Things, ” he replies with arched eyebrows, looking rather superior.
“You two make me gag,” Bianca comments as she stretches. She makes a little wiggling gesture with her fingers. “We can turn on Interview with the Vampire and pretend we’re watching the pair of you chase each other around on screen for centuries, holding various grudges across time and space.”
Shudder . “Please no. Dieter, what are you doing here?” Kara demands to know, giving him a stern look. He’s intruding on her time with Bianca, because she’s been avoiding him? Because she’s been trying to put space between them?
Why does she bother wondering? Of course , he is. If she wants space on her terms, he’s going to minimize the space. Control, release, control, release…
Everything he does is a game of wills.
{Now, you’re wearing a collar. He’s holding the leash.}
His grin is terribly wonderful as he bestows it upon them both, stretching out his arms along the back of the couch. “I was in the neighborhood and figured your charming friend needed saving from your apartment.” Bianca seems intrigued, damn her. He lolls his head to look at Kara briefly, muttering out of the side of his mouth, “I guess you can come too, spoilsport.”
“What did you have in mind?” Bianca asks him as she leans around Kara, the traitor. She knows the sort of pull Dieter has in the city, the places he can take them. Kara can’t entirely blame her for wanting to see what he’s got up his sleeve.
He’s got a lot of fucking aces up there.
Turning on that wretched playboy charm of his, Dieter shifts his entire attention to Bianca and gives her the full blast. Leaning in close, coy, he plays with a strand of Bianca’s red hair while Kara mentally fumes. Why is he like this?!
“What do you feel like doing? I can make it happen.” Even his voice is playful, drawing Bianca in. Not Kara though, she wants to stab him. Something green is sliding around in her guts as he looks at her friend and she doesn’t like that either.
“Kara and I like to dance; can you work with that?” Bianca challenges, knowing a lot of men hate dancing.
“I can get you into The Eva ,” Dieter says with a careless shrug. “If that suits.”
Bianca’s voice takes on a pitch that nearly makes Kara cringe out of her own body.
“ The Eva ?!” Bianca parrots shrilly, her eyes near bugging out. “Oh, God. We’re going. Take us there. Lead the way. Immediately .”
Kara barely stifles a groan of dismay. Why does he do this to her? The Eva is an exclusive nightclub that’s nearly impossible to gain access to. It’s legendary for its difficult bouncers and insane dancefloors, the moody décor, and the splendid drinks.
Dieter grins in response, his pale green eyes on her face. “Don’t be mad. You’ll have fun. We can find you a virgin pina colada or something childish like that. I’ll buy you all the nonalcoholic silly drinks you want. If such a thing as ridiculously overpriced, nonalcoholic champagne existed, it would be yours.”
“So romantic,” Kara drawls with deep sarcasm. “Excuse me while I contain myself.”
Bianca is already on her way to Kara’s bedroom. “I’m using something from your closet. I’ll squeeze in, you’ll see. We are going .”
With it just being Kara and Dieter on the couch now, Buffy playing in the background, Kara gives him her harshest stare. She maintains the most intense eye contact she can manage, trying to convey her absolute displeasure with him. The problem is, he gives her a charming little huff of a laugh before he leans forward and nuzzles her nose. “Don’t be mad, chickadee. Please ?”
The way his tone dips and softens, becoming that submissive illusion… well it does hateful things to Kara’s body. She ignores the fluttering of her stupid heart. “You’re out of line now and you were out of line then . You know it.”
When he brushes the back of her hand with his, she feels her anger at him begin to thaw even further. “You’re right,” he suddenly agrees, eyes dancing. “I’m a horrible human being. I should leave. You two can continue fawning over vampires-”
“Kara, are you getting ready? Get in here! ” Bianca calls from the bedroom, not hearing their conversation. “I’m going to wear your hottest dress. You can dress in a sack.”
Ignoring that, Kara replies to Dieter. “You’ve already gotten Bianca’s hopes up. You’re not going anywhere without us tonight.” She’s well aware she’s played directly into his hand. “She would be disappointed.”
Those green eyes glitter like gemstones. “If you insist. You’d best find something to wear. I’m not taking you anywhere looking like a homeless person.”
“Asshole,” she hisses under her breath as she goes to join Bianca in her bedroom, taking in the mess of clothes strewn everywhere. Bianca sure has been busy in here.
They spend a few minutes picking through things, comparing, bickering with indecision on what to wear to a club neither of them has ever been able to enter-
A singsong voice interrupts their banter about the little black dress or the hoochie red one. “Do you need help picking your clothes? I’m good at that, you know. I’ve dressed a few top models-”
“We don’t need your perverse help!” Kara shouts from her room. The man has dressed her more times than she cares to count, not just fucking models.
“Speak for yourself. Dee, you can help me .” Bianca replies slyly, to which Dieter throatily laughs.
Kara tries to ignore the way her stomach flutters, hearing that sound.
Being one of those impossibly exclusive nightclubs , The Eva is one of those places where people can expect to wait outside forever, if not for an actual eternity. All so they can get in and stand around some more because all the tables require bottle service and if you aren’t getting bottle service, you are dancing on one of their many levels. Despite all this, Kara and Bianca are both excited to finally enter and take in the sights for themselves. Dieter is the only reason they have a prayer of getting in.
“Doesn’t this sort of remind you of the time we snuck into the Dark Mirage ?” Bianca giggles in Kara’s ear.
Kara winces, thinking of that night that Nick tossed her out of the private sex club. Running into him there had been completely unanticipated…but it made her wonder even more about him, the man who took advantage of her and offered her money to ‘keep her mouth shut’. “Please, don’t remind me.”
“I can always take you both there, too.” Dieter sidles up between them as they approach the front of the bumping club, putting his arms around their waists confidently. Neon lights spill over the waiting partygoers. “I backed Paxton’s purchase of the establishment. I can buy him out of owning it.”
“Yes, we know . You’re so rich and powerful,” Kara groans with exasperation, rolling her eyes. He grins at her, as if to say, I’m so glad you’ve noticed .
“Don’t boohoo everything, Kara. He’s a handy man to know,” Bianca utters, leaning up against him, fluttering her eyelashes. Oh, God, Bianca’s being effortlessly seduced by her bastard client. Kara hates it, hates it…
The trio strolls past the horde of people waiting impatiently outside The Eva and Kara can feel the burn of many eyes staring her way hatefully. The giant bouncer in his nice suit nods to Dieter cordially and says, “Good evening, Mr. Bittinger. Your usual table?”
Dieter smiles with that ever-friendly manner of his that draws people in. He makes people want to like him; that’s why he’s dangerous. “That would be appreciated, Henry. Thanks.”
Within moments, the bouncer is moving aside, gesturing them to enter the deep blue shadows within The Eva.
The low thrum of the bass presses against Kara’s senses, pushing into her blood. Down they go, down some deep purple-lit stairs, descending into the spectacle below. Kara feels her eyes widen, taking in the massive dancefloor of writhing people, the stages where women are dancing seductively, and the various lounge areas, filled with well-dressed people dropping more money than she cares to think about.
Sparkling champagne glasses and towers, large fish bowls of alcohol…the sounds and the colors spin the mind. Kara can see why people easily find themselves lost in this for hours of the night. The establishment is wild. But, a high-end sort of wild. Not the janky sort.
Dieter leads them over to a reserved table with the same confidence with which he does everything. Kara sees some people look at him, knowing who he is. Feels the stare of other women on him. Her jaw clenches, noticing that.
Within moments of sitting at the smooth lounge, a server brings over champagne and vodka, which Dieter and Bianca dive into head first. The server makes a confused face when Kara orders a mocktail. “No alcohol in it,” Kara shouts, trying to be heard as Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m the designated driver.”
The server shrugs, because there’s no need for designated drivers when there are so many cabs, but whatever .
When everyone has a drink in hand, Dieter raises his glass in a toast, pale teeth flashing as he says, “Cheers to a great night.”
“Amen to that!” Bianca replies, face already flushed.
Kara tugs on her hand and says loudly, “Dance with me.”
Because that’s why they’re here, isn’t it? It’s not about him .
It’s not about how he looks at her as Kara pulls Bianca away, going to the dancefloor.
The song and the beat transcend time, pulsing low in Kara’s blood as she twists and turns with Bianca. The dark shades of blue lighting, hypnotically flickering over them. It makes the whole dancefloor seem slow, more sensual than it probably is.
It’s a fun place, all things considered. The mocktails have been decent, the music is lit, and the atmosphere is definitely a vibe.
“Oh, look at him,” Bianca says loudly into her ear, nudging her to glance back towards where Dieter is. He’s at their lounge table, drinking away. He’s not alone and he’s definitely not bored. “God, he’s like a chick magnet! How do you handle it?”
“Easy,” Kara replies, keeping her voice empty of feeling, shoving down the screeching in her head. “I simply don’t care.”
She doesn’t care. She doesn’t . And watching those other slinky-dressed women paw at him doesn’t make her want a drink to numb how she feels. No. No. She won’t drink. She won’t drink. She hardens her willpower into stone and drinks her mocktail harder.
They keep dancing, Bianca totally lost to the beat. Kara tries, but something keeps drawing her gaze back to the table, where Dieter is, hating that she can’t stop watching .
The way it feels, seeing the other women brush up on him, the one with her hand sliding down his chest, the way he smiles-
Kara can’t look anymore, her insides turning into rot. She doesn’t understand why she feels this way. This sort of jealousy is foreign to her. “I have to go outside,” she tells Bianca, who gives her a pained look in realization, following along with her. She understands the hint of hurt she sees on Kara’s face, the hurt she’s trying to pretend isn’t a thing. She knows how Kara tends to either mask her feelings or explode.
Kara is absolutely not letting this brat of a man twist her up like this. He’s her client, nothing more…
Squeezing through the mad throng of people, Kara leads the way out of the club to get air, feeling Bianca holding her hand through the mess. Once outside amongst those cooling down and smoking, Bianca sighs and asks, “Are you still trying to convince yourself that you’re not a thing with that ridiculously charming piece of manmeat?”
“ Manmeat ?!” Groaning miserably, Kara sits down on a stone bench and briefly covers her face. “We can’t be a thing. He’s my client. It’s all so fucked up.”
Bianca sighs, applying some lipstick casually. “I like him-”
“You think he’s hot!”
Not able to deny that, Bianca troops on. “-but here’s the thing; he clearly likes you. It’s why he spends time with you. It’s not just about work. But you pretend he’s nothing and all the other women are falling all over him.” Bianca sits down next to her. “Can you blame him?”
“He does not like me. I amuse him.” Kara grits out, feeling her insides sicken. Why does this bother her so much? It shouldn’t-
Is it because she’s still wounded about Nick? Is that why she can’t handle the idea of being hurt again? Of getting close to a man she’ll never have a prayer of keeping for herself?
Footsteps reach their ears. “Hey. What’s wrong?” Dieter has followed them outside. Being harassed by gold-diggers and shallow influencers must have gotten boring for the moment. “The party is inside.”
Bianca gets up off the bench and steps off to the side, pretending to be interested in her phone.
Angrily, Kara wipes at her face, sniffing. She can’t let him see that she cares, that any of it got to her. “Nothing. Go back in there with your playdate.” Ouch . That came out obvious. Kara, you idiot.
Like clockwork, his eyebrow quirks in understanding.
“ Chickadee . Don’t be bitter.” He’s standing behind her now. Slowly, he reaches out and plays with Kara’s hair as she tries to not look at him. “I don’t even know her name. Any of their names.”
She turns to look at him, hoping her eyes don’t look red. “ Ha . You wouldn’t.” His pupils are dilated; he’s done some lines already tonight.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He walks around the bench, coming to stand in front of her.
“What do you think?” Her tone comes out as a hiss. “You use women like tissue paper.” She mimics blowing her nose and tossing it away.
His face slowly shifts from its good-natured expression. “Yeah, well, some women like that, don’t they?” He snaps back, becoming the waspish snit he’s known to be. “I’m just minding my own business and they fucking cling on like flies to a pile of shit.”
“Is that the sound of you admitting you’re shit?”
“It’s a saying .” He seethes. Someone has mussed his soft hair and Kara feels red pulse behind her eyes. Some bitch was what, petting him?
She’s standing up now and he’s in her face, those blown pupils eating her alive. He’s high and fired up and Kara is just upset. This is gasoline and fire meeting.
The tension between them grows heavy, as if waiting for one of them to back down.
Coming back to them with hesitation, Bianca touches Kara’s shoulder. “Kara, I’m gonna head back to my place; do you want to come with me?” Bianca is giving her an out, giving her a way to escape this embarrassing argument with her stupid fucking client, but there’s no way Kara is leaving this argument. She doesn’t run away.
She shakes her head, maintaining eye contact with the snake in front of her. “I’m fine, B. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
Bianca nods cautiously, eyes darting between them for a moment before going to hail a cab.
When they’re alone again, aside from the milling party-goers around them, Dieter scoffs. “Are you on the rag? You’re being idio-”
Her eyes prick with her emotions. Anger at him, but mostly fury at herself for getting caught up in Dietrich Bittinger. “Just fuck off.” Kara tries to walk away, wiping at her eyes again hatefully, feeling him pull her to a stop.
“You’re mad about some bimbo hitting on me?” Dieter turns her around to face him again, looking incredulous. A faint hint of amusement lurks in his green eyes and Kara despises it. “Since when?”
Slapping his hands away from her, Kara replies, “Stop making this into something it isn’t! You’re a troll and I can’t stand you.” Her voice cracks and she feels her face crumple with emotional anguish. She’s quickly losing control of herself.
He’s like a shark that’s smelled blood in the water.
“What is it that you want ?” He’s so close, crowding up on her, his breath on her ear. “You want me to be yours? Play house together?” There’s something cruel and mocking in his tone.
“No,” Kara whispers miserably, a part of her deflating from his words. There’s a part of her that does want it. She wants him . She wants all that perfection that he embodies because she’ll always be broken .
When she’s by herself, she’s this thing of loneliness and rage, broken by a terrible childhood. With Nick, she can be broken with someone else, but it’s still broken.
But Dieter? He’s far from broken. He’s unattainable and golden, even if he isn’t faultless.
Dieter rears back from her as if she’s slapped him. His green eyes are nearly black in the low lighting, giving him a dangerous cast. A sneer crosses his lips, covering his shock. Kara doesn’t dare assume he’s hurt. “No?” He repeats mockingly. “Don’t lie. It’s what all these sluts want from me. They want what I represent. The money. The power-”
This time, she slaps him. Hard.
Panting, Kara takes a step away from him. “I’m not one of your sluts.” He’s been drinking, he’s been doing cocaine. It’s making him vile. He’s not himself. Or is this when he is extra himself? “And I’m not lying.” She sniffs angrily, her feelings choking her. “I don’t want you to be mine, because I’d never be able to keep you .”
His mouth is in a firm line and there’s a red mark blooming on his cheek. Dieter reaches for her-
“Don’t touch me!” She shrieks it, piercing and full of the searing pain inside of her.
He stops moving, hand falling to his side. “What do you want me to do, Kara?” His tone is indecipherable.
“I’m getting a cab home.”
He pulls out his phone, “I’ll order it for you.”
“ No . Just. Please. Leave me alone. Go back to whatever it is that you do, but leave me out of it.”
He doesn’t leave her alone until her ride arrives. Stupidly making sure she gets in alright. Fucker.
She goes home crying, because she never wanted Gale to be right about him and how he would weasel his way into her emotions.
It’s late when she gets home and puts herself to bed. Limbs heavy with misery, Kara huddles into her sheets and tries to forget the world. She tries to forget her public stupidity over that terrible man that her life revolves around. She doesn’t want to think about Dieter, about Nick , not about either of them, pulling her in two very different directions.
She sleeps fitfully.
Nothing could have prepared her for what came next.
Something gently soothes her out of her slumber, waking her slowly in the dark. Someone is stroking her hair in a calming fashion, their body curled around her own. Panic almost jolts her out of bed until she realizes she knows the gunmetal rings on those hands. The faded scent of green apple, fresh pine, and tonka beans washes over Kara and she leaves her eyes closed.
“Hey,” he murmurs against the nape of her neck, kissing her skin softly.
Sight isn’t required to know who is beside her, whose hand is on her hip.
“Do you want me to leave?” His voice is soft, barely an utterance.
His lips are soft, brushing up her neck like those of a ghost. He presses his tongue to her pulse point, tasting her heart. “I didn’t want to stay out without you.”
Kara can’t breathe. She clutches his hand at her hip and tangles their fingers together. She doesn’t vocalize what she wants.
All the hurt from earlier seems to be a dull ache in the wake of his intimate presence.
Those soft lips make their way to the shell of her ear, nipping and tasting softly. His nose buries into her hair and he inhales deeply, a slight growl at the edge of his exhale. In a swift movement, he rises up over her side, angling for the front of Kara’s face. First, his nose dances over her cheekbone, delicately, like he’s scenting her skin.
She shivers, feeling hot, lying docile beneath him. Her body is sleepy, languid and she wants him even though the very idea of him hurts.
As he moves past her cheekbone, he makes his way down and Kara nearly dies in anticipation. His lips brush the corner of hers, kissing there, his tongue licking delicately at the seam. Kara feels like her soul is screaming inside, because he’s-
“Forgive me,” he’s whispering against her mouth, his voice that sultry submissiveness that tightens her insides like nothing else.
Kara feels her face twist in sadness as a shudder passes through her. She tries to turn her face away from him. “But, you’re not s-sorry.”
He doesn’t answer, which leads her to believe she hit the nail on the head. He isn’t truly sorry; he’s sorry that he caused her to walk away from him when that wasn’t part of his plan.
Don’t get close to him , Gale cautions urgently in her mind. Never get close to him. He will play you like a violin.
Clothes, slowly falling away. Sheets rustling as skin meets skin. Gasps, soft noises of pleasure. With confident hands, he carefully spreads her legs, lying between them. Face to face, and he kisses her like it’s the last kiss she’ll ever have.
As they kiss, fusing together, they reach between each other’s thighs. Languid, unhurried. Exploring. He fills her hand as Kara strokes him, feeling the slickness at his tip. Gathering it, spreading it across his length. His fingers are low, between her swollen lips. Playing with her eager nub, flicking it, making her writhe against him. His skill almost makes her come undone, bringing her to the edge before drawing her back.
Every shudder, every gasp, Kara consumes it all. Committing it to memory. She wants to remember him this way, forever if she can.
“You’re a damn tease,” she tells him, biting his lower lip.
“ Guilty .” His fingers gently hook inside of her, pressing against her frontal wall, making her see stars. “But I put out good too, chickadee.”
He shifts to put a condom on, not even breaking his lips from hers. When he’s inside her, she feels a horrid wave of emotion pass over her and Kara gasps, a broken inhale. It’s too intimate, there’s too much feeling here and he’s going to kill her with it. He’s going to break her because she’s feeling for him and he’s indifferent. It’s a game to him, she knows this. A tear squeezes its way from her closed eyes and he slowly moves his hips, so gentle, so unlike anyone. Rocking and grinding, casually urging her towards infinity. “Please don’t cry,” he breathes into her mouth, mingling his air with hers. “I’ll be nice. I can be nice.”
He’s barely thrusting, more so using his cock to stroke her insides with slow grinds and different shifts of his hips, feeling her walls languidly. He’s like heaven and Kara wraps her legs around his hips. She’s slick for him, easing his path as he rocks into her again and again.
Every breath is ecstasy, spiraling higher and higher.
“Dieter-”
“ Shhh .” He kisses his name off her lips, his tongue finding its way against hers.
He drags her to the edge and holds her there, just at the precipice of ecstasy. He slowly breaks her down, making her beg him to just let her cum-
“I’m on top tonight, chickadee.” His thumbs press against her nipples, playing with them. “I choose when you cum. Next time, you’ll be in charge.”
She runs her nails down his spine. “Next time?” Why is there a next time? There shouldn’t even be this time, but oh , oh , he’s touching her between her legs now. Hot pleasure boils low and Kara tosses her head back, moaning.
With a sly grin on his mouth, he presses her legs back, getting a deeper angle, filling her completely as she mercifully falls apart. When he cums, he gasps her name and Kara marvels at how he can make her feel like nothing and everything all at the same time.
In the morning, his arm is still around her waist, his head a blonde halo on her pillow.
“I can’t tell if this is a nightmare or a dream,” she whispers morosely. This is out of control. She should have never let them go this far. Disbelief wars with excitement, at war with a twisting guilt. Kara’s a mess inside.
Dieter’s eyes are closed, but his breathing tells her that he’s awake.