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I hear a feminine voice call his name in the background, giving me the perfect escape. A curl of jealousy moves through me, but I push it aside. It is probably one of the strippers at After Midnight, and even if it wasn’t, I have no claim over the man who consumes more of my thoughts than he should. He could boink half of Florida, and I would have no right to say anything to him about it.

“You’re busy. I’ll let you go,” I rush out, eager to get him off the phone so I can try to straighten my head out about this man who haunts me in too many ways.

“There’s no letting go between us, Morgan. Get that straight right now. I’m man enough to see something I want and not be afraid to go for it. I do have to handle business, though. I’ll be in touch.” The call is disconnected without another word, and I am left feeling like I am very much in over my head with this man.

The day passes with Ice remaining on my mind. After Madyson passes out from exhaustion, I am sitting in Coal’s living room, watching the television, when I hear the front door open and close. Thinking it is Coal coming home, I don’t bother to turn around. Although he has been nothing except nice, I try to stay out of his way to avoid bothering him.

I hear the heavy thunk of booted steps on the floor behind me and assume Coal is walking towards the back of the house to where his bedroom is located. Sometimes, he comes home long enough to shower and change before heading out to wherever it is he goes to give us space. However, when the footsteps stop directly behind me on the other side of the couch I freeze, my body tensing.

Leaning my head backwards, I look up to see Ice staring back down at me. The expression on his face has my heart immediately pounding in my chest. No man has ever looked at me like this, like he wants to consume me, eat me alive. The thought makes me blush.

The side of his mouth kicks up and he murmurs, “I’d pay a pretty penny to know what the thought is that made your face flush like that.”

The fact that he notices my blush only makes it worse.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“Came to see if we could have another adrenaline fueled matter of circumstance.”

It is official. I am positive that I am now red from embarrassment from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

“If I were to peel your clothes of right now, would I see that gorgeous pink color all over?”

Like I am going to answer that. “I thought you had business to attend to?”

“Got the business for the day done, babe.”

“Including the woman who called your name when we were on the phone?” My mouth snaps shut as soon as the question leaves my mouth. Why in the world did I ask that? I could have sworn I had gotten it through my head that it was none of my business what Ice does.

I watch as his eyebrow cocks up. Then he looks at me as if I am a puzzle. Right when I am about to tell him to forget what I have said, he moves around the couch and comes to stand in front of me. Turning, he pushes back the wooden coffee table a little bit and then sits down on it, facing me. His elbows are on his thighs, his hands hanging between his legs, and his face is an impervious mask I cannot read.

“For a woman who told me we were nothing but an adrenaline fueled excuse earlier, that comment sounded awfully jealous. You wanna explain that to me?”

Unsure what to say, I shake my head.

“Okay, then I’m gonna explain shit to you. You’re mine.” He holds up his hand when I open my mouth to protest. “Nope, keep your mouth shut till I’m done talkin’. Like I said, you’re mine. I gave you some time to help get your sister settled, and now I’m done wastin’ it. I want you. I’m gonna have you, and you’re damn well gonna have me in every way that counts. You understand what I’m sayin’ to you?”

Oh, my God. Did he just insinuate what I think he did?

“Yeah, babe, I did. And, in case you didn’t know it, you said that out loud. Now, let me explain to you what else that comment meant. I don’t do the jealousy bullshit. While we are whatever we are, you’re not gonna come at me verbally swingin’ some bullshit about other women. I work with ‘em. I don’t touch ‘em. Get over it.”

Anger and uncertainty fill me. “You expect me to believe you’re going to be faithful to me when I’ve heard about the revolving door on your bedroom?”

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