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“Did you hear a word I said?” I ask.
Blake looks at me, finally focusing onme.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I’m suddenly irritated. I shake my head and put my tablet back in my bag.
“I’m going to go, and when you’re ready for me, I’ll come back.”
“I’m ready for you know,” he says, and his voice is throaty. “I arranged it.”
I take a few steps toward the door. Blake gets up and storms past me, blocking the door so I can’t leave.
“I didn’t say we’re done,” he bellows.
“Yeah?” He might be in charge of this whole building and people cower when he’s like this, but he’s not in charge of me. “Well,I’msaying we’re done. You’re clearly not interested in what I have to show you. Or maybe you’re just not interested inme.”
He narrows his eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I snort. “Come on, did you think I would just take it in my stride that we fucked and you forgot all about it?”
“You agreed it was a mistake,” he says.
“Yeah, I did,” I concede. “But that was a mistake, too. Because I didn’t think it was just a drunk night and, whoops, we ended up fucking. It meant something to me. But I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want—you just don’t get to treat me like I’m a waste of your time. Or one of your slaves.”
Blake shakes his head. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what?” I demand.
I don’t like being angry like this. I don’t like the way he’s teetering between anger and something a lot more raw. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on. I’m usually so calm and collected, but Blake turns everything in my world upside down.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says.
His apology is unexpected and I deflate a little.
“It’s fine.” I fold my hands over my chest. “I won’t be your plaything, you know.”
Blake shakes his head and takes a step closer. “That’s not how I see you. I just…” he puts his hands on my shoulders and slides them to my neck until he cups my cheeks. “I just had a rough couple of days.”
“Okay,” I say.
His hands are warm and I love that he’s touching me. But it makes my mind spin, and I want to wrap my arms around him. I want so much more than just this.
As if Blake reads my mind, he kisses me.
For a moment, I melt against him. I get lost in the kiss. But then I jerk away and take a step back, out of his reach.
“You can’t do this to me,” I snap. “You can’t fuck me, tell me that I’m not your plaything after you chase me away, and then kiss me. That’s not how this works. You don’t get to do whatever the hell you want just because you have a lot of money and you call the shots. You don’t get to call the shots withme.”
“I hired you,” he says coldly.
“Yeah, to dress you, not to fuck you! I’m not a whore, even if you pay a hell of a lot of money.”
“That’s not what this is!” he cries out.
“Then what is it?” I demand.
Blake shakes his head. He looks like he’s falling apart, and I can’t help him keep it together because I don’t know what the hell is going on.
