Page 171 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“I beg to differ.”

“Do you want to play this game?”

“Gian—”

“You are mine, Cara, even if you’re not with me. And do you want to know how I know that, sweet girl?”

Cara refused to look him in the eye. He stepped close enough that his body pressed against hers, but she couldn’t move away. She kept her head turned to the side, even when his hand slid up to cup her cheek and his fingers threaded into her hair.

“I know you’re still mine, because there’s no way on earth you could tell me that man, or any other man, knows anything about you worth knowing.”

“Stop, Gian.”

Why was her voice so goddamn weak?

And why did she want to turn into his palm, not away like she was?

This isn’t fair.

“Has he, or anyone else, even touched you since me? Can you even stand to let someone have you the way you let me have you?”

Cara’s gaze cut to his fast. “Gian.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“No, you won’t tell or no, no one has touched you?”

Both of them.

Cara refused to say that out loud. Gian only smiled like he already knew the fucking truth, like he could see it written all over her face.

“Right. I would be willing to bet he knows fuck all when it comes to you,” Gian said with a dark, husky laugh. “Like the way you won’t get your ass out of bed in the morning, or all the little secrets you like to hold onto because you’re locked up way too tight in your heart, and it takes a fucking sledge hammer to get through.”

Gian inched closer, his unique scent soaking into Cara’s lungs like a familiar drug. Liquor and leather and man. “Let’s be honest, Cara, he doesn’t know the shit that matters, really. He probably doesn’t know what you like, either. I bet he doesn’t know how you liked to be choked when you come, or the way you beg like a good little slut to have your ass filled when your—”

Cara’s hand came up swift and hard. She didn’t even think about it. Her palm cracked against Gian’s cheek with enough force to silence the nearby tables of people.

“Excuse me, miss, do you need anything?”

The sound of the bartender’s voice had Gian’s burning gaze flying over Cara’s shoulder, probably burrowing a fucking hole into the poor man who dared to intrude.

“It’s fine,” Cara said. “We’re perfectly fine.”

“If you’re sure …?”

“She’s sure,” Gian uttered through clenched teeth.

Emotions warred within Cara, heating her cheeks and making her body vibrate. Her palm stung, but she didn’t care. She glared at Gian, daring him to say another word, even when her hand dropped back down to her side. He didn’t look away, but rather, his smirk grew sinful, like he had gotten exactly the reaction he wanted.

“I can say more, if you want,” he said.

“Shut your mouth. How dare you, Gian?”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me any man, except me, knows those things, and owns those things where you’re concerned. Tell me.”

She couldn’t.