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His eyes search mine. “You offered it to me a week ago on my porch. Are you saying you thought I was special then?”
“I did. Now, I know better.”
Every muscle in his body tenses. His jaw hardens, but he agrees gruffly, “Sex is off the table. Do we have a deal?”
“I pretend to be head over heels obsessed with you for thirty days, fooling everyone. When I win, you stop telling me you want me to move out. I get to live here, under your care and protection, until I turn twenty-one and am in possession of my inheritance, without you making a stink. Ever. And you buy me a car of my choosing. Those are the terms, when I win, correct?”
“If you win, those are the terms. But since I’m going to win, in thirty days, you’ll give me my mother’s will and you’ll move out of my house and life. For good. Until then, I’ll make sure no one has reason to suspect I’m not the most devoted man you could ever have. And sex might be off the table—” His thumb slides over my bottom lip. “But this mouth is mine whenever I want it.”
Am I really doing this?
“Those are the terms, Princess. So, tell me, do we have a deal?”
I feel a little as though I’m signing away my soul in blood as I nod slowly with this devil’s thumb pressed gently against the center of my bottom lip. Then I whisper, “Deal.”
twelve
Olympia
I tossed and turned all night, my mind impossible to shut off as I replayed the terms of my new deal with Tav. The more I replayed it, the crazier it seemed. The more I replayed it, the more dangerous it felt.
At the same time, I'm confident I can win this. He might like kissing me, but he still hates me. That much is plenty clear. The man wants me gone. He proposed this deal as a way to get me gone sooner. Knowing that stings. Everything this man does to me seems to sting. I think I might be getting used to it. Expecting it, even.
Still, sting or no, I need him until I turn twenty-one. Until I have my inheritance. After that, I can turn my back on the man I've loved my whole life and pretend he doesn't exist. I say pretend, because the man will always exist for me. Like it or not, he imprinted on my heart years ago. I can't suffer the pain I would have to endure to carve him out.
So, it's no surprise, that as the sun rises in the sky, painting the deep navy with a hue of brilliant red-streaked-pink, that I'm pulling on my yoga clothes and tiptoeing from my room. I disarm the house and wince, frozen in place as the voice seems to scream through the speaker that the house is no longer secure.
I'm confident Tav will get a notification on his phone as well, informing him that I’m making the grand escape into the early morning. I just hope all my ruckus doesn’t wake him. I’m not ready to deal with him yet. It’s just my luck that the man isn’t gone this morning, like he’s been gone every morning before I wake.
Forcing thoughts of Tav from my mind, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and slide open the patio door, slipping outside. The cool morning air against my flushed skin is a balm against my anxiety. I breathe in deep, sucking back salty morning air as I tip my head back to the glow of an early morning sky.
Laying my mat on the patio stones, I spend a solid ten minute’s stretching. Then I set my follow-along program on my phone and get to doing the thing that makes me happy and relaxed. Considering Tav has made it his mission to wind me up and freak me out, I need this. Desperately.
I’m in the downward doggy pose, my ass in the air, head between my legs when I finally realize he’s standing there. Shoulder against the now open patio door, coffee in hand, smirk firmly fixed in place.
With a yelp, and a jerk of surprise, I drop my booty in an attempt to save face and end up falling hard on said booty.
The rumble of his deep chuckle has heat rising in my chest. I glare hard at him, but he’s not intimidated. Not even a little as he pushes off the door, stepping barefoot onto the patio.
I expect him to stop there, but he doesn’t. Crossing the space between us quickly, my heart quickens in my chest as he drops a knee to my mat, planting one big hand into the stone next to my hip—and the man leans in.
His mouth connects with mine, tongue slipping inside to stroke slow and languid against mine. I’m not kissing him. The man is kissing me. I don’t think I’ve even moved a muscle. I’m too shocked. Too stunned. Too embarrassed.
He pulls back, swiping his tongue teasingly across my bottom lip. “G’morning, Princess.”
He leaves me there, tasting him on my lips. On my tongue. Coffee, and Tav, and sin.
He tastes, ironically, like corruption.
I’m befuddled. By him. By his kiss. By the way he looks at me with loathing and disgust one moment, desire and heat the next.
His lips twist into that smirk I’m coming to expect from him as he walks backward, eyes on me, to the patio set. He chooses the loveseat, drops his ass to it, and shoots me a quick wink.
What the actual bananas?
I shake my head.
“You’re up early.” He lifts the coffee cup to his lips, peering at me over the rim.
