Page 134 of Trailer Trash

“I got off,” I lie.

His gaze is unrecognizable. The energy shifts, and so does the topic.

“Me. You fucking call me when you need help. I take care of you. Not those fuckers. Say it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “You. Are. Mine.”

“I— I’m yours,” I stutter, my throat tight. “I call you.”

“Good. You only touch me. Got it? Evan won’t touch you again.”

The way he says Evan’s name freezes my blood.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I want to ruin you for any other man.”

My palms push against his hard chest. The sharply defined muscles don’t give an inch. It’s like I’m fighting marble.

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, the words weak and barely forming.

“No leaving me, okay?”

“Uh, uh. No.”

He nips at my earlobe. “That’s my girl. You’ll move into the condo with me.”

My lashes flutter as the words settle. My vision is hazy. The air feels harsher, needling me back to the world.

Ping.

The elevator.

Shit.

“Harlow,” Clark calls.

My boss!

I’m half-naked. On the floor. With Killian deep inside of me.

36

Harlow

“Killian!” Clark roars and spins around, protecting himself from the sight. “Get dressed!”

I bend my neck, pressing the back of my head against the carpet so I can see behind me. He retreats fast, skipping the elevator and heading for the stairs.

“Harlow. Come to my office when you get some clothes on,” he adds as he slips out the door fast, as if this isn’t the first time he’s walked in on his son mid-act.

Killian rises off me, quiet and a bit dazed himself.

I search for my pants, staring blankly at my feet as I dress, mechanical and slow.

This isn’t how I thought it would happen. If I were raped, I didn’t think it would be by someone I knew. I thought I’d be screaming and running out of the door. I didn’t think I would be discovered in the act, and feel guilty, like this is my fault.

When I stand, Killian pulls me into his arms. It isn’t him. It’s not the same Killian. My heart isn’t beating because it wants him. It’s beating because it knows how dangerous he is.

He kisses my cheek. It’s not an awkward moment at work that I can laugh off. It’s so much more. He tilts my chin up. I search his eyes. They’re bloodshot—