Page 9

No way that’s happening, baby.

I hold her gaze. “So does that mean you no longer want me to fuck you?”

I watch her open and close her mouth like a fish that just realized it’s out of water, more red creeping up her neck. It’s fucking endearing, the way she’s fighting for words and losing.

“You drunk?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

Her head snaps up. “No. God, no. It would take way more than two glasses of wine to get me drunk.”

“Good.”

She tilts her head, curious despite the embarrassment still burning on her face. “Why is that good?”

I lean in just enough that she has to feel the heat of me. “I don’t fuck drunk women.”

Her eyes widen a fraction. “Oh. So that means you’re going to…”

I chuckle. “What? Now you can’t even say the word?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a quick sip of wine.

“How old are you?” I ask.

She scrunches her nose, mimicking me. “Let me guess, you don’t fuck underage?”

“Should I?”

“No,” she says immediately, nose still wrinkled. “That would make you a pedophile.”

I wait.

She exhales, a little laugh escaping. “I’m twenty-three. Turning twenty-four in three weeks. Old enough for you?”

She’s younger than the women I usually take to bed, by a good margin. Too young, too much of a civilian for my world. But then I look at her, flushed, and the objection dies before it can form fully.

I turn to the bartender without breaking eye contact with her. “Glass of water.”

He slides it over in seconds. I push it toward her across the polished wood.

“Drink.”

She glances at it, then back at me. “Bossy.”

I reach out before she can deflect again, fingers curling gently but firmly around her jaw.

Her skin is soft beneath my touch, silky, almost velvety, so smooth it contrasts sharply with the roughness of my fingers, and for a second, I find myself wondering if the rest of her feels just as smooth.

“If we’re doing this,” I say, voice dropping so only she can hear, “if you want that little fantasy of yours to come true tonight, then you need to learn who’s in charge here. I tell you something? You obey. No arguments. And no attitude either. Understood?”

Her pupils are blown wide, skin fever-hot under my touch.

She nods, and I let go slowly. She reaches for the water and downs the entire glass in three long gulps.

I let the corner of my mouth lift. “Good girl.”

Her eyes flutter for half a second. “So… what now?”

I lean back against the bar, studying her. There’s something about her. Something pure. Untouched.