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Pressing her lips together, she drinks more of her juice and it is obvious that she is angry with me. But I don’t care about her fury. I’ll even take her hatred as long as I get to have her. Right now she looks like the last thing she wants to do is be in my bed but eventually she will end up there.
Eventually she will learn to beg for me. Crave me. Eventually she won’t even remember ever having a life without me.
Knowing that she has friends and a family, repulses me even though I know I’m being unreasonable. It is good that she has people around her but I still feel like they’ve taken what should be my place.
Not that she can understand that. Right now she looks like she wants to run away from me and run to them and I clench my fists underneath the table, causing my veins to pop like they’re about to burst.
Her hand shakes when she puts the glass down and she refuses to look at me. “Why are you doing this?” She brushes her mouth off with her hand. “What do you want from me?”
Many things, so many things that some of them don’t even have a label.
“I want you here,” I answer. “I want you to be comfortable and not afraid. And I don’t want you to try to run from me.”
“Will you punish me if I do?” she breathes and I’m struck by the beauty of her eyes. They’re a dusky blue color, complimenting her puffy lips. But the rest of her appearance grates on me. She’s dressed in black pantyhose, practical shoes, a knee length black skirt and a buttoned up blouse. And the shade of her hair isn’t right.
I’m going to have to change everything until it is to my liking.
“I don’t want to punish you,” I say. “So don’t give me a reason to.”
Swallowing she looks down. The ends of her hair brush her ribs and my hands itch to clasp it, fist it and hear her little whimpers of protest. My body shudders at the thought and she glances at me. Her eyes roam over my pecs before going lower down my abs but then she becomes aware of what she’s doing and abruptly looks away.
She shouldn’t feel ashamed for responding to my appearance just because I, in her mind have done a criminal act. I am more than responding to hers and I’ve been hard ever since she walked into the kitchen, gazing at me with that haunted expression on her face.
It makes me want to keep her to myself for the rest of eternity. Never set her free. Never allow her to look anywhere else for comfort or answers, or guidance. Only have her look to me for everything that she needs. Be the only one she can turn to, make her depend on me until she starts believing she can’t be without me.
I want to make her want to bemydoll.
Leaning back in her chair, she murmurs, “Where is my purse?”
“Why are you asking for your purse?” I gently ask and her eyes flare like she has a sharp answer on her tongue but her response comes out mellow,
“I just like having my belongings close.”
Think it’s more the phone that she wants but I’m not without the ability to compromise and I rise. She cowers in her seat when I do because I’m a big man but her cowering rubs me the wrong way. For fucks sake, there’s no need for her to be petrified of me.
“Stay here,” I rasp, going out into the hallway and I rummage around until I find her purse and I bring it back into the kitchen. To my surprise she’s still seated but her back is unnaturally straight and she’s staring right ahead. The knife that was placed next to her plate is gone and a smirk plays behind my mouth.
So, she’s going to try to put up a fight?Isn’t thatcute.
Casually walking over to the table, I put her purse up and she reaches for it with one hand.
“Ah-ah,” I warn and hold it out of her reach and she takes her hand back and her lips thin. “Let’s see what we have here,” I mutter, freeing the zipper and I start fishing up her things. First up is her phone and her eyes fire at the sight of it like she’s just seen gold and her lower lip quivers. “You have three missed calls.” My eyes warily go to hers. “Is Jess a man or a woman?”
“A man. He’s my friend.”
No. I’m her friend. And now I’m the only man in her life.
My brows curve in dissatisfaction. “Why does he call you sexy?”
Her cheeks tint in embarrassment. “That’s just his way of goofing around. It doesn’t mean anything.” She reaches her hand out. “Can I have my phone now?” she whispers but I shake my head.
“No.” Lifting her plate and glass off the table, I throw the dishes into the sink together with the phone and turn on the water. She gasps, halfway getting out of her chair and her eyes mist.
“You can’t do that! Please...”
Pleading is not going to help even though it’s hard to say no to her. And I can’t allow her to use her phone. Grabbing her bag again, I take out her wallet and there’s a small amount of cash in it together with a credit card. And an id, readingDaphne Daye.
Daye.It makes me want to throw the id in the trash but I can’t because her face is on it. The rest of the stuff is just some chewing gum, tampons, chopsticks, hand sanitizer and some other junk. I put the wallet back and hand her the bag because there is nothing in it that she can use for escaping. She knows it too and suddenly the purse isn’t valuable to her anymore.
