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Emerson
“Smile, sweet girl,” Rayne prompts me.
I’m still recovering from the shock that we walked out to ten cameras surrounding us, each photographer yelling things at us that blends with the others. Somehow, I manage to follow his instructions and slap the brightest smile I can muster onto my face and press my palm to Rayne’s chest.
I know what he’s doing. He’s claiming me in front of all these people, and the city, and I know I should care. I should pull away from his hold and get some distance between us, but I can’t tear myself away from his warmth. All my worries melt away when I’m in Rayne’s arms. All the stress. All the anxiety. All the bad shit from my past. It all disappears and all I’m left with is the most addictive sense of safety.
I’m vaguely aware of my dad on the other side of the room staring at us, but I don’t want to think about that conversation. He seems to like Rayne, way more than he ever has any of the boyfriends I’ve had in the past, but then again, that was before he knew we were dating.
Boyfriend? Dating? Fuck. Neither of those things seem like enough. Rayne consumes me. He takes away all rational thought and becomes the center of my world whenever he’s nearby.
His possessiveness should terrify me. He claimed me and gave me no say in the matter. But if he had, would it have made a difference? Even if he hadn’t taken my choices away, if he hadn’t started barking orders about my health and safety, I would still feel this crazy pull toward him. Every cell in my body ignites when he walks into the room, no matter how much I told myself I could never trust again after Brad, Rayne was different from the first time he sat across the desk from me and sold every remaining ticket to the biggest names in Chicago.
I look up at Rayne, watching as his eyes flick from camera to camera, the most blinding smile I’ve ever seen shining. The arm wrapped around my waist is firm and sure, and when his eyes drop to meet mine, sensing my gaze on him, butterflies erupt in my belly and almost blow me off my feet.
“Are you okay?” Concern flickers in his eyes before the mask he wears for the cameras snaps back into place.
I nod slowly. For all accounts, I shouldn’t be. I should be throwing a tantrum after the way Rayne spoke to me in the hallway, but right here in his arms feels like exactly where I need to be. It feels like home.
“Ready for everyone to know you’re mine, sweet girl?”
Before I have a chance to process his question, his lips crash down on mine, demanding entry the moment they meet. It’s only a split second before I comply. If we’re going to do this, we may as well do it right.
Clicks and flashes surround us, but all I can feel is Rayne. His hands around my waist, his chest under my palms, his lips moving against mine, and his tongue dancing with my own. He’s all consuming, his warmth, his scent, the way he handles me roughly and yet also like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever held in his hands. It’s addictive.
When his lips slow and he pulls back slightly, he looks like the cat that got the cream, smug and satisfied with himself. We stare at each other for a moment before he tightens his grip on my waist and tugs me past the cameras. I still don’t know why they’re in here. We always hire a photographer, but the paparazzi usually leave after everyone has arrived, and they never come any further than the front door.
“I probably should have told my dad we were… whatever we are before we did that,” I mumble as we head straight for the man in question. He doesn’t look unhappy per se, but he also doesn’t seem pleased.
“I already told him,” Rayne informs me, tightening his grip around my waist.
I stop in my tracks, my mouth dropping open as I stare at him. “You did what?”
“I told him that we’re together the other morning before I took you home.” He shrugs like the words he’s sprouting are normal and obvious, which they most definitely are not.
“I don’t even know what we are. Maybe you could have clued me in on it before telling my father!”
Rayne steps forward until his body is almost touching mine. His fingers brush along my jaw as he tilts my head up so I’m looking right into the darkness of his eyes. “We are together. You are mine. And I would watch that tone of yours if you don’t want to be adding to the punishment you’re already owed.” The words are a promise, and my protests die before they can escape. “That’s what I thought.” He presses his lips to my temple. “I can’t wait to get you home, sweet girl. You’re so much more compliant when your pleasure is on the line.”
Before I can think to respond, his arm is back around my waist and we’re walking toward my dad again. How Rayne thinks I’ll be able to speak to my father with the promise of pleasure lingering between us, I have no fucking idea, but I don’t think I have it in me to argue.
“That was quite the spectacle,” Dad comments as we approach him.
“What are they doing in here? They’ve never come past the front doors before.” I dodge any questions about my relationship with Rayne because I don’t have any more answers than he does at this point.
“It seems someone invited them.” Dad’s eyes are on Rayne’s in a silent accusation.
“There are a lot of powerful people here tonight. Maybe they tipped the paparazzi off for a photo op. It wouldn’t be the first time.” Rayne shrugs.
Dad and I both stare at him and pieces start to slot into place. He didn’t… he wouldn’t… after a moment of considering, I think to myself,He totally fucking would.
Dad’s eyes flick between Rayne and me, as if he’s not sure what to make of us. That makes two of us.
I feel like I’m on a fucking rollercoaster, rising to the highest of highs, seeing and feeling things I never dreamed of, only for the dip to come out of nowhere and catch me off guard, and before I can catch my breath, we start the climb again.
“If you’ll excuse us, John. I want to introduce Emerson to my family.” Rayne smiles, tugging me away from my father before either of us can say anything.
Wait… family?
