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He lets go of my hand to pull the door open, then stands off to the side so I can get in. But I don’t.
“If you didn’t want me to drive you home, you shouldn’t have walked all the way over here.”
I roll my eyes. “As if you’d let me do anything else.”
Nero grins. “Smart girl. Now get in.”
“Nero…” I press my thighs together, then whisper. “I’m going to get your seats dirty.”
His eyes slowly drop and I feel like he can see straight through my skirt. “Are you messy, Payton?” He steps forward, closing the distance between us. “Is my cum still dripping out of your ass?”
I tip my head down, letting my hair fall around my face, as I admit, “Yes.”
Nero groans, gripping me on my hips. “If you think that bothers me, you need to think again.”
I shift my weight. “Nero.”
He lets out the biggest sigh. “Fine.” He pulls his suit coat off, then leans into the car and spreads it out on the seat.
“I can’t sit on that!”
His eyes are narrowed when he stands back upright. “Why not?”
I gesture to the jacket. “It’s… expensive,” I say lamely.
“Payton, get your ass in the fucking car.”
“But––”
“Get in.” He points to the car. “Squeeze out every drop of spunk onto the seat. Hell, run your fingers through it and draw hearts on my dashboard. I don’t give a shit.”
My face scrunches up at the visual. “That’s––”
He grips my chin. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but I’ll tell you one thing about me right now. One thing that you need to just believe, okay?”
“Okay…”
“I’m rich.”
I almost snort. His delivery is just so… blasé.
But then he keeps going, not letting me look away. “I’m very, very rich. I have millions in the bank. Millions more in lessofficiallocations. And five times that in property.” I swallow. “You could set this car on fire, roll it into the Mississippi, and it wouldn’t cause so much as a ripple in my finances. You could tear my custom suit to shreds and twist them into pretty silk tampons, and I wouldn’t give two shits. You could––”
“Okay!” I half-shout the word, just to get him to stop talking.
But he doesn’t let go. “You will never worry about money.” I open my mouth, but he shuts it with his grip. “Not for me. And not for you.”
I keep my lips pressed together as I stare up at him.
What an actual dream it would be to not worry about money. What I wouldn’t give.
But as much as he’s acting obsessed with me now––for whatever reason––when that fades, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled poorness.
“Get in the car, Payton.” Nero punctuates his command by pressing his lips to mine in a brief but harsh kiss. And more than anything he said, the kiss shuts me up.
CHAPTER41
Nero
