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“Your parents cared.” They had to. I have issues with how mine treated me, but they were doing what they thought was best for me.
“No, swan. They didn’t. My dad only cared about my mom, but to her he was nothing but a sperm donor. She had no use for him, and he blamed me. His only way to cope was to forget about both of us. My mom only cared about— She isn’t like Brittany. She’s the type of user your parents were trying to protect you from. People didn’t just get hurt because of my mom, she intentionally hurt them for her own purposes. Money came before people.”
Vitriol spills out with every word, and everything makes sense. “Is that why you didn’t like me when we first met? I’m just a silly girl having fun dancing and living off my rich husband. Now I’m divorcing him and hoping to get money from the deal.”
I can’t see his reaction. I have to rely on my other senses. He’s not shaking his head, and he’s not denying it.
“I saw you dance.” Warmth steals through my body. Pierre, his partner, and I had taken Jacobi and London to a dance club. The type that requires a waltz instead of twerking. That’s where I first saw Cannon, where I first thought he was familiar. “As for the money, you were married, but you didn’t talk about him when you were with London and Holland.”
“I could forget about my mistakes and pretend that I was just like them.” They have the skills to make a good living for themselves while I was barely scraping by with my millionaire husband. “I wish I didn’t need his money.”
“Some of it is yours no matter what his lawyer says.”
I shiver. Talk of my divorce robs me of the heat Cannon’s words gave me.
“Are you cold?”
“Yes. Everything about today and what we’re talking about leaves me feeling like I’ve been dipped in a frozen lake.”
The bed moves and the blankets rustle. Then he’s between the sheets and drawing me to him, and it’s the most natural thing in the world to roll over, grateful that there’s nothing between us, so his strong body wraps around me. I finally quit shivering.
“I’m scared.” I said it before, but this is in the dark, just us, and terror lines my veins.
“I know.”
“I’m angry.”
“Good.”
Our faces are closer than they’ve ever been, including that time in the bathroom. “Good?”
“Get fucking mad, Penelope. You’re not a victim, but someone’s trying to make you one.”
“They would’ve succeeded without you.” His arms are around me, chasing the fear away, and I stroke a finger down his arm. “But I was terrified you’d get hurt. I was so scared for everyone, but mostly for you.”
“Fuck, Penelope. This shit you say—” His mouth crushes mine.
I jerk but recover quickly and kiss him back. I don’t want this to end. The passion flowing between us is stronger than I’ve ever experienced, filling my body and pooling in my belly. There’s always been a connection, an awareness I had to ignore. There are still several reasons to forget the chemistry between us, but in the dark bedroom, I can’t bring myself to care.
Twining my arms around his neck, I squirm to get closer. I’m so warm and I want to keep every scrap of heat I can, but there’s an aching throb now that only he can soothe.
He’s straightforward with the kiss, like he was in the bathroom. He sweeps his tongue into my mouth and dominates me. A whimper leaves me, but he’s rolling me onto my back, and my legs spread automatically to make room for him.
The basketball shorts of his do nothing to hold back his erection. It presses between us. I know what it feels like in my hand, but I want more.
I reach between us to shove down the shorts. Without breaking the kiss, he draws my shirt up. He’s kissing his way down my neck, and I have to abandon my mission to thread my hands through his hair.
My breasts have never gotten such attention. His hands, his mouth—they’re all over me, a mix of heat and strength. I arch into him. His heavy weight between my legs isn’t enough.
“I need—” I gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive peak of my nipple.
“What do you need?” he murmurs.
“You” is all I can say.
He strokes his hand down my belly and under my shorts. “Like this?”
A rough finger brushes over my clit. Lightning zings down my spine. Another moan slips out. “More.”
