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“Who?” I fought against him but he was too heavy. We were a year into the past and I was trying to run from my tormentor—before I fell for him.
“The fucker who lives on Park Avenue.”
How did he know that? “Have you been spying on me?”
He squeezed my wrists together. “Answer the question.”
“No!” I tried to knee him in the groin but he was too strong.
“Are you fucking him?”
“None of your goddamn business.”
His eyes burned with rage because he could see the answer written all over my face. “Who is he?”
“Jason.”
His eyes narrowed in recognition. “The asshole that took your virginity?”
“He’s not an asshole. He’s one of the greatest guys I’ve ever known. And yes, he was my first. Now get off me.”
He moved further on top of me, constricting my wrists. “You aren’t seeing him anymore.”
“Like you can tell me what to do.” I twisted my wrists so I could get free. “I’ve been gone for two months and you never gave a damn. You never tried to call me or get me back. You just let me go. I’ve gotten my life back on track and I’m not letting an asshole like you screw it up.”
“You and I have a misunderstanding.”
“No. You’re just an idiot.”
He moved my hands further into the mattress and pressed his face closer to mine. My body automatically reacted to him, not recoiling but tensing. His breaths fell on my skin and it still smelled like wine. His cologne was the same and his lips were still kissable. “I gave you a break. There’s a difference.”
“A break?”
“You never paid off your debt. You still owe me.”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
“I beg to differ.” His hand moved to my jeans and he unbuttoned them. “You still owe me thirty buttons. Thirty.”
“Fuck you, Crow.”
He unzipped my pants and yanked them off my legs. “You’re about to fuck me.”
My thighs trembled with longing and the area between my legs grew wet. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. I was terrified of this man and how maniacal he was, but yet, my body still yearned for him. “I’m not doing anything. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
He undid his own jeans and kicked them away. When he was in his boxers, he inserted two fingers into my panties and immediately shoved them deep into my pussy. The moisture flooded around him. “You still get wet for me, Button.”
I broke eye contact for the first time out of humiliation.
He pulled his boxers off then positioned himself between my legs. My hands were still pinned above my head and I was vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do to me. “You’re mine. Not his. Mine.” He pointed his tip at my entrance.
Despite what my body wanted, I didn’t want this. I’d spent the last two months of my life getting back on track. I finally started to think about him less and look to the future. If I got swallowed up in this all over again I would be lost. “Crow, no.”
He shoved his head inside me.
My head rolled back because it felt good. But I still didn’t want it. “I said no.”
That didn’t stop him either.
I tried to think of the safe word but I was drawing a blank. But then I finally remembered it. “Fire.”
He immediately stopped and pulled the tip of his dick out. He released my hands and moved way, pulling his boxers back up to his waist. He eyed me with the same anger but kept his hands to himself.
I covered myself with the comforter and looked away. His eyes were too terrifying for me to look at anymore. “Crow, help me understand. Why are you here?” He found out I was sleeping with someone else and he grew jealous. But that didn’t make sense. He was the one who let me go to begin with. When I told him I loved him, he was the one who didn’t say it back.
He sat up sat the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “I told you.”
“We both know I don’t know you anything.”
“Quite to the contrary. I had to give up my revenge because of you. You owe me every single button that’s due.”
“You didn’t seem to care for the past two months.”
“I’ve always cared.” He stared at the ground, his shoulders tensed. “And you’re going to pay each one back.”
“I’m not doing anything.” There was nothing he could do to make me cooperate. I knew he wouldn’t take me against my will or hurt me, so he had nothing to threaten me with.
“You love this guy?”
I refused to answer.
“Do you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he pressed. “Now answer me.”
“No.” It was slightly insulting that he assumed I could fall in love with someone else so quickly.
“But I’m sure you don’t want him to die, right?”
