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"What the— What are you doing?" The world tilts, and I’m faced with the sight of JJ’s firm ass. And what an ass it is. I remember digging my fingers into it while he thrust into me. I remember the feel of it as I’d turned into his back while he was asleep and curled around him. I remember taking in its shape as he’d cut through the water in the swimming pool in his trunks, ogled at it as he strode away from me clad in his tailor-made suit in the office. I confess I’ve never seen it from this angle as I sprawl over his shoulder with my hair hanging down and brushing against his rear as he stalks forward.
The door slams behind us. The echo reverberates through the space, sinks into my cells, ricochets over my nerve endings. The pulse pounds at my temples, at my wrists, between my legs.No, no, no, I’m angry at how he’s treating me like I am a possession. At how turned on I am by how he handles me like I weigh nothing.I’m not a tall person but I am also not that tiny, and I’ve never been flung over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Or his sex toy. A shudder grips me.Oh no, no, no, not turning to mush just because he’s using caveman tactics on me.I struggle, try to loosen his grip on me. A sharp pain sears my backside. "What the hell? Let me go, JJ."
"No."
He marches through the living room and into the bedroom.
"I’m not going to sleep with you, you asshole." I pound my joined wrists into his back. His breathing doesn’t even change. "What’s gotten into you? You’re acting crazy."
"Iamcrazy" —he throws me down on the bed, on my back— "for you."
I bounce once, shake the hair out of my face. "You said you’d give me space to figure things out. You said you’ll let me leave so I can work things out."
"I’m tired of waiting." He rolls his shoulders, and my gaze is drawn to the breadth of his body. How big, how solid, how larger-than-life he is. The bedroom isn’t small by any means, but JJ seems to take up all of the space in the room. I glance past him toward the open door, and he laughs. "Don’t even think about it."
"Fuck you."
"That’s the plan." He smirks.
"You’re delusional if you think I’ll still give us a chance after this."
"I’ll take my chances." The buckle of his belt jangles, then he yanks it off. The swish of the leather against the fabric of his pants sparks goosebumps across my skin. My pussy clenches, and my thighs quiver.Damn it, why am I so wet?I jump up to my feet, and he peels back his lips. His incisors gleam, and for a second, he seems like a predator. A lion stalking its prey. A wolf pursuing its mate.
I definitely need to stop reading those smutty romance novels. Real life is nothing like the words between the pages. But being with JJ is the closest I’ve come to experiencing the kind of passion I thought was limited to fictional heroines. And he’s so much sexier than any morally gray hero I’ve read about. He’s my real-life Mafia guy, and I’m the woman he’s going to bend over and fuck to within an inch of her life.
IfI let him, that is. Which I’m definitely not going to. Stupid romance novels. It’s their fault I’ve built up all those spicy scenarios in my head. I glance sideways to where the latest paperback I’ve ordered lies face down on the bedstand. Thank God for discreet covers. At least it doesn’t give any hint of what’s hidden between the sheets—of the book, that is, not of the bed. I’m not referring to the bedsheets. “Nope, n-a-a-h."
"Are you talking to yourself?" he asks with great interest.
"Of course not," I huff.
"Hmm." He glances toward the book.
Oh, no. No, no, no.I leap toward it, but he’s already there. He snatches up the paperback. I yelp, try to reach for it, but he’s so tall, even with my standing on the bed, he towers over me. I paw at his arm, and my fingertips slide off his muscled forearm. He switches the book to his other hand, using his free one to hold me at bay.
To my mortification, he begins to read aloud. "He tears off her panties. She whimpers. He ties the rope around her wrist and loops it around the headboard. Then he does the same to her other hand. Then he straddles her chest, squeezes her chin so she opens her mouth, and thrusts his cock down her—"
"Stop." My face is burning red. "Stop, stop, stop."
"No fucking way. This is what you like, girl? You want to be dominated by a man who ties you up?"
"Just because it’s in the book doesn’t mean I want it in real life."
He snorts. "Your annotations in this book suggest otherwise."
"That’s just a compulsion. I like to underline—"
"The particularly horny passages of the book. Is this your kink, baby? You like to get yourself off while reading steamy books? This how you’ve been taking care of yourself while I haven’t been around?"
I don’t reply. I don’t need to. I’m sure the expression on my face gives it all away.
He continues to read the rest of the page—a page I’ve read many times, a passage I’m intimately familiar with. I know exactly what happens next.
"You imagined us in this position?" He hands over the book. I pounce on it, then scramble to the other side of the bed and shove it inside the drawer there. When I turn, he’s watching me with an intent look on his face.
"You know, you didn’t need to get yourself off by reading books one-handed. All you had to do was call me and I’d have happily helped you recreate any scene of your choice. Or all of your scenes. Every night. Night after night."
I sink down onto the bed and cross my legs. "Can we talk about something else?"
