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So now, shut safely inside the confines of his apartment, they stood across from each other in the long, white tiled entrance hall.
She looked around the hallway, uncertain. ‘I can stay here?’
He tilted his head. ‘My father wants you to suffer. He let me take you because I bought you to be a club whore.’
‘A club whore?’ She raised her eyes to his, her hands were shaking. ‘Is that what you said to Emilio to stop the auction? That you would buy me for your club?’
He chuckled. ‘I didn’t buy you with money, doll. I bought you with a promise.’ He dipped his head so his lips were right beside her ear, speaking in a whisper. ‘A promise that I would make you suffer.’
Her eyes widened, and the devious pleasure he felt reached all the way to his cock and squeezed painfully. ‘I told my father I would take you to the clubhouse and let the boys use and abuse every inch of that pretty Colombian skin. Fuck you in every hole you’ve got. Make you bleed.’
She whimpered.
‘But here’s the thing,’ he said darkly, pulling back and down slightly so they were eye to eye. ‘We’re not at the clubhouse. Because I don’t want to share you.’
She swallowed, not moving. He caged her against the wall with his tattooed arms, the bright colours in stark contrast to her bare, bronze arms.
He saw the way she looked at him. He hadn’t imagined it. And the spark that passed between them . . . He knew that she would be his if he just played things right. If he made it seem like she had a choice.
He wanted her to choose him more than he’d ever wanted anything.
He tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
‘It’s your choice, Ana,’ he said. ‘I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.’
She didn’t say a thing.
‘What’ll it be?’ he asked finally. He half expected her to rebel, tell him to take her to the clubhouse and let them destroy her, just so she’d have the satisfaction of saying no to him.
But he’d seen the desperation in her eyes the moment he mentioned the Gypsy Brothers clubhouse. He’d figured out her true fears. She didn’t want to be a club whore, a shell that got used up and tossed aside once it was ruined.
‘Do you promise?’ she asked softly.
‘Promise what, baby?’ His tone was conversational.
‘Promise that if I stay with you, you’ll protect me from them?’
He brushed a thumb against her lips and grinned. ‘I promise if you stay here with me, and you do as you’re told, I’ll protect you from the whole world.’
Tears formed in her eyes. Not enough to spill over to her cheeks when she blinked, just enough to make a thin, watery film over the dark blue.
She trembled. ‘Thank you.’
It made him feel like the biggest asshole in the entire world. He was taking advantage of this girl for his own sick purposes, giving her a choice between two different versions of hell. And she was thanking him?
‘Don’t thank me,’ he said gruffly. ‘Just don’t let me down by trying to run away. I don’t do second chances.’
She nodded, the relief on her face palpable. Goddamn it, couldn’t she be a little less grateful?
‘You’ll have to do some other shit too,’ he said. ‘Accounts and things. I told Emilio what you did for your father. The money laundering.’
Her face fell. He could tell she was upset he had divulged her secret.
‘It was the only way,’ he clarified. ‘Your skill set is in much higher demand than a club whore’s. You have a job, and your job helped get you out of being sold.’
She nodded. He’d never seen her this quiet. She seemed . . . shocked.
‘So . . .’ she began.
