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Yet, finally, I was given that perfect doll, prettier than any of my friends’ Barbies. One of its chubby pink hands reached out to my face, and when our skin touched, I fell in love with it, for the first and last time in my life. Instantly, that doll was dearer to me than anything—anyone—else. Even back then, I would have killed, and died for my Willow.
I learned to feed her, and clothe her, and change her, because our parents left us alone for hours on end. I begged the neighbors for formula and diapers when we ran out and no one bothered to replace it for weeks. When I was old enough, I ran errands around the trailer park, never bothering to ask what was in the bags the dirty, yellow-toothed, smokey old men asked me to take into town and back, so that I could have a fiver, maybe a ten, and buy cereal or bread. When she started school, I made her shower and brush her hair and teeth every morning, careful to ensure neither her appearance nor mine would raise any flags and earn us a one-way ticket to foster care, where we’d be separated.
Tonight is the last in a long list of duties I’ve undertaken to shield Willow from suffering for someone else’s mistakes. Usually, one of our parents is guilty, due to either neglect or sheer spite. This time, I am.Iput her in danger, whether I wanted to or not. I would never have thought that challenging Aryan would lead here, but it has.
I can do this.
I have to.
“What do I do?”
I brace myself, fully expecting the jerk to whip his cock out and push me down onto it. That sort of behavior aligns with the explicit details Lola gave about her clients. Men, when they can get away with it, are disgusting beasts. They enjoy hurting helpless, desperate women.
I tense when his hand grasps the back of my neck, prepared for the worst.
And the worst is what I get.
Camden’s mouth closes over mine, ever so softly, barely touching my lips at first. Then he moves back and looks right into my wide eyes before kissing me again with all the confidence I might have expected from him, yet so much gentleness.
What. The. Fuck.
I’m frozen in place, disarmed, confused. When his tongue flicks against my lower lip, I feel it much lower. My insides tingle, in an entirely unexpected—and unwelcome—turn.
The first time I properly met Camden, at Erica’s engagement party, I stared at his sinful, kissable lips and blushed before looking away.
I’d seen him around, of course. He even bought my little sister an ice cream one day, so many years ago. I’ve known his name since then. And who didn’t, in this town? But until that day last winter, we never had any reason to interact. Up close, I thought I’d never seen a more gorgeous man—except on TV.
His sensuous mouth is everything I imagined and more. In other circumstances, I would have melted in his arms. Now, I want to scream.
This wasn’t the deal. He doesn’t get to make me feel. He doesn’t get to make mewant. “Don’t kiss me.”
Camden sniggers against my mouth. “Funny. Here we are, and yet you still think you’re in charge.”
Then all gentleness ceases, and his wicked lips, turned up into that sexy grin I know all too well, take my mouth like I belong to him.
I want to resist, to push him off me. We made a deal, he and I, and this wasn’t part of it.
You’re going to blow a few cocks like they’re your favorite lollipops.
I press against his hard chest, determined. I don’t think my effort would have made him move an inch if he hadn’t wanted to, but he steps back. His golden amber eyes dance with amusement when I look into them.
“This isn’t the agreement,” I snap. “We’re not even filming.”
Camden tilts his head to the left, and I notice a camera in Juliet’s hands. Not a phone; proper, professional equipment, so heavy she balances it on one shoulder.
She grins and shoots me a thumbs-up. “That was a great start, sweet. Don’t worry about taking breaks—Aryan will edit everything later.” She winks. “He’s quite good at it.”
I gape at her in surprise.
“I don’t have to kiss you,” Camden admits.
“So don’t.” I’m firm.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I don’t have to,” he repeats, barely audible. “I want to.” His hands tilt my face, and hesitate as I flinch. But he does cup my cheeks all the same.
“We did make a bargain. The terms are: you play nice, and I keep my dick out of your cunt. So, you’re going to let me do everything I want to you, and you’re going to like it.” He beams, his beautiful face contorting in a mockery of an angelic grin. “Or at least pretend to. I don’t care either way.”
I can fight him and give him an excuse to shove his dick inside me, or let him touch me, knowing he has complete power over me. Whatever happens, he wins.
