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“I’m clear, except—” I pressed my lips together, not knowing if I was allowed to object.
“Speak, Zadie.”
I flipped my hands over in my lap. “Well, I don’t have a car, so I can’t buy groceries for your dinners. Unless...do you want me to ride the bus?”
He sucked in a great deal of breath then exhaled slowly. “No. I do not want you on the bus. Text me a list. I’ll have someone pick up what you need.”
“Okay,” I squeaked out. “My roommates might wonder where I’m disappearing to every night, but—”
His brows rose. “But you’ll figure that shit out because it’s not my problem?”
“Right.”
I would be here, in this house every night, with Amir. Amir and his guns. I shuddered, goose bumps sprouting up and down my arms.
“I want you to start tomorrow. You’ll be here after your last class.”
“My last class ends at one. I normally go to the library and—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Amir was on his feet, bent over me, his arms bracketing my head, challenging me with his eyes to finish my objection.
“Day one, Zadie. Day one, and you’re already attempting to defy me. I let that motherfucker go because you made me a promise. You gave yourself to me. I’m being nice to you, little mama. If I wanted, I could whip my cock out, stuff it down your sweet little throat, and coat your insides with my seed. So, please, tell me about the library. Tell me why you can’t be here when I tell you to be here.”
He was too close, too heated, too powerful. His warm, spicy scent invaded my space just like he did. I averted my gaze to a place over his shoulder, keeping some part of me to myself. An inkling of control. Amir shattered it, moving his face into my eyeline. Our gazes clashed, and he held me in his unblinking stare.
“I have to study. But if you need me here at one, I’ll rearrange my study times.” I sucked in a breath. “I’ll make it work.”
He picked up a piece of my hair and slipped his finger into the center of my curl. Then he pulled it taut. “You’ll be here at four tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
He tapped my lips with his fingertip. “Every day, Zadie. I need you here every day unless I tell you not to come. Do you feel me?”
“Yes.”
His finger slipped between my lips when I spoke. He dragged it along the edge of my bottom teeth, then dipped in farther to touch my tongue. His withdrawal was as sudden as his invasion, trailing a line of my saliva across my lower lip and chin until he was no longer touching me. My heart didn’t get the memo, though. It thrashed wildly in my chest, attempting to climb out of my throat.
“It’s too bad you didn’t fight me.”
His meaning didn’t dawn on me until he had straightened and stalked across the room to stand in front of the windows facing the porch. With bated breath, I watched as he adjusted the front of his pants. He made no effort to hide it, but he didn’t shove it in my face either, despite his threats. I didn’t know what I would have done if he had.
“You can go, Zadie.” Amir glanced at me over his shoulder. “Get out.”
Surprised, but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I jumped to my feet and rushed toward the front door, grabbing my discarded bag along the way. Just as I opened the door, Amir’s voice directly behind me glued my feet to the floor.
“Do you have more skirts?” he asked.
I whirled around, my lips parting. “Skirts?”
“Like you’re wearing. Do you have more of them?”
Pinching the flowy blue material between my fingers, I struggled to catch up to the change in subject. Skirts? He wanted to know about my wardrobe? It wasn’t like it was exciting or anything. Certainly not sexy like the girl who’d been draped on him at the party.
“Zadie,” he gritted out.
“I have a few,” I answered quickly.
He folded his arms over his chest. “I want you in a skirt while you’re cooking, unless I tell you something different.”
