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“So you’re here by coincidence, are you?” I laugh bitterly. “You’re really starting to test my patience. Maybe it’s time I got that restraining order.”
The only reason I haven’t already is because I don’t want this prick thinking I need the cops to handle him. Maybe there’s a part of me that wants him to swing on me, to give me an excuse to pick him apart for what he did to our – my – business.
“I just need a little help, bro,” he says, a pathetic tremor in his voice. “Just a few bucks.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snap. “You almost drove my business into the ground. You got me involved in criminal shit. You risked everything I’ve built. And you want help? You’re lucky I don’t throw you through the fucking window.”
“You’re the only one who’ll help me.” The whine in his voice is downright pathetic. “I’ve got no one else.”
“What about all your junkie buddies? What about all your dealer pals? What about all that money you siphoned from the company?”
He flinches with each question, taking a step back when I take one forward. Despite his size, despite the fact he’s still well-muscled – a steroid infused miracle considering his evident narcotics use – a look of fear comes across his face.
I pause, fists clenched so hard they hurt. Despite everything he did, I can’t help but feel like a bully as I stare him down. He’s too much of a damn weasel to hurt.
“Please,” he says. “Just a hundred bucks. Then you never see me again.”
“I’m not giving you a damn cent.”
“Please—”
“Clean yourself up,” I growl. “Get off whatever shit you’re hooked on. Stop the steroid use. Stop hanging out with criminals and put your life on the right track. Then I’ll help you. But I’m not going to give you money just so you can inject it up your damn veins.”
He narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “After all, I did for you.”
“What?” I surge forward, almost knocking over a clothes stand. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You think you could’ve built that business without me? You think—”
“You almost ran the business into the ground, you deluded fuck. You almost lost me everything. Do you know how much money, motherfucker? Almost a million. Trusting you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
I move to walk past him and he steps into my path.
I give him a look, letting him read all the fire blazing through me. He does the smart thing for once, moving aside so I can storm out of the store.
Chapter Sixteen
Rosie
I sit in the passenger seat of Ryker’s sleek sedan, feeling just a little bit ridiculous in the dress he chose for me. He was waiting outside my work when I finished, leaning against his car in a suit the same shade as the silver in his hair, that just-Ryker smirk on his lips as his eyes scanned over me.
“I’m tempted to tell you to go in that,” he said, waving at my work gear.
I laughed, shaking my head at him. I was wearing stiff cargo pants and a sweaty T-shirt, but Ryker wasn’t making a joke. His eyes were flooded with hunger as they scanned me up and down.
“I’m serious,” he went on. “You could wear anything and be beautiful. But…”
He brought out a package, with a pair of matching heels for my dress. The heels were thankfully only about an inch tall, but I still felt crazily glamorous when I emerged from the college campus in the sparkling silver dress and the matching shoes, my hair messy-wavy around my shoulders. I’ve never worn something like this.
The cut isn’t low, almost to my knees but not quite, and I’m not showing any cleavage thankfully.
“That’s just for me,” Ryker growls now, as I adjust the dress.
“What is?” I laugh.
He stops at a red light, glancing over at me, his jaw tight. He’s been gripping the steering wheel like he’s going to snap it in half since he slid into the driver's seat. It’s as though he’s holding himself back from me, his musky scent filling the air like his body is sending signals my way that he’s ready for me.
My womb screams at him to push inside me, to forget the date and make our family – our future – right now.
Even if it scares me.
“What do you think?” he says after a long pause, staring solidly. “Those gorgeous tits. Those legs. That ass. Your perfect body. It’s all for my eyes only. That’s why I didn’t get you anything risqué.”
“I love it,” I tell him quickly. “And I don’t want anyone else looking.”
“Good,” he snarls. “You look beautiful, Rosie, beautiful and sexy, gorgeous and tempting. You look like a personal gift just for me.”
I press my legs together tightly, my panties threatening to flood with need again.
