Page 55 of Riding Dirty

Woman.

The way he says that, not one to call my own, it’s like a tiny dagger to the heart, because I know that he’s had plenty of women. Apparently, he’s still having them, even after meeting and being with me.

I open my mouth to ask him if that’s what I am, because I don’t recall him asking me to be that for him. Before I can say a single word, he reaches out to slide his finger along my jawline, then cups my cheek, and I almost give in.

I want him again.

At this point, I hate myself a little more with each passing moment, because I’ve got questions, and instead of demanding answers, I’m ready to drop my sheet and climb up on him.

I’ve never wanted someone as much or as often as I do this man. It’s a new feeling for me and one that I wholeheartedly wish to embrace. In fact, I was seriously feeling very down about us being over before we even began.

Alex is probably going to call me a doormat, maybe even try to knock some sense into me, and he would be right to do all of that, but he’s not sitting in this bed looking into Coast’s eyes.

“Communication would be good. But, Coast?”

He hums, his gaze flicking to my lips. His nostrils flare when my tongue sneaks out to wet my bottom lip before I continue speaking.

“Is that what I am, your woman?” I ask. “And what exactly does that mean? And what do the others mean?”

Three questions that I really need the answers to at this point. Because while it means one thing to me, I don’t know if it means the same to him. Not after speaking with that woman at the clubhouse, not after seeing the women naked everywhere. I don’t know what he’s really expecting out of this, and what he’s willing to put forth.

I also don’t know what I’m doing. He’s older than me. He’s used to living his life on his terms. He’s lived an entire lifetime doing so, and now that I’m sitting in front of him, I wonder if he truly wants me in it.

Not just in his bed, but in his world.

I need those details. I need to know who and what I am to him, because what if I don’t want to be part of his world? Already, it seems pretty confusing and partially dangerous. Sucking in a breath, I hold it as I wait for him to respond to me.

Thankfully, I don’t have to hold my breath too long, because he begins speaking almost immediately. His thumb glides along my bottom lip, tugging at the skin slightly. I wish he were close enough to kiss me.

I want to feel his mouth on me. I know we’re supposed to be having this conversation, this serious conversation, and I’m the one who wanted it, but I still want his mouth anywhere and everywhere on my body.

“It means you’re my fuckin’ woman, Elodie. Mine. You kiss, touch, and fuck only me.”

“Coast,” I whisper.

It should probably piss me off the way he says that, as if I’m running around doing whatever, but for whatever asinine, primal reason, I like it. A lot.

But I have to know if those same rules apply to him as well.

“And you?” I ask.

“Me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I mutter. “You know what I’m talking about. The naked girl at the club who said what she said and claims you do what you do with her and them, whoever.”

“There hasn’t been anyone since I met you,” Coast announces.

He says it hard, like he doesn’t want to talk about any of this, which, honestly, he probably doesn’t. It’s one thing to have a chat about communication, but him fucking other women—I can see how he wouldn’t want to talk about it, but he needs to because his saying we’re together means we are together, and that also means he’s not with anyone else.

“Nobody else, Coast. I don’t think I could handle it.”

And I mean that in every sense of the word. I could not handle him being with someone else. I know I can’t. All I want is to be with him, and just thinking about someone else looking at him makes my heart race and my throat tighten.

When he doesn’t respond to me immediately, I’m not sure what to think. I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak, and when he finally does, my breath comes out in a whoosh. I want to believe him so badly. I want to believe every single word.

“Don’t want anyone else, Haze. It’s just you.”

Pressing my thighs together, I try to relieve the ache there, hoping that he doesn’t notice, but he does because he chuckles almost immediately. I hope he’s not feeding me a bunch of bullshit. I think it might actually break me if it is.