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I don’t know whether that’s a joke about my driving abilities or if he’s actually serious about blocking off an entire highway just so I feel comfortable learning to drive a manual transmission. His over-the-top history indicates the latter.
“That sounds good and all, but are you aware that I’ve been evicted from my apartment?” I ask, curious if he has something to do with that as well. He was disappointed last night when I didn’t want to go home with him, but I felt like it was too much, too soon.
Pasha gives me a look that tells me he’s responsible, but that he’s also never going to admit that he is. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, darling.”
I cross my arms, shaking my head at him. “You’re ridiculous. I really hope you know that.”
“Better that than alone,” he replies. “I’d do anything or you.”
“Which is even more suspicious.”
“Not really. You’re a stunning woman who is obviously quite talented,” he says cheerfully. “I don’t think there’s anything suspicious about a man being attracted to that.”
“Talented,” I repeat back to him with a snort. “Yeah, that’s rich. I know how to look good in front of a camera, but that’s not really talent. Any pretty girl can do that.”
“I wasn’t talking about modeling,” he replies, his eyes flickering down to my legs. “You were really wonderful last night.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I have to look away to keep from making a fool out of myself. He makes me feel so small and shy, and I’m embarrassed by how aroused I am at the mere mention of what happened last night. It’s not something either of us can forget and move on from.
Pasha won’t let that happen.
“I thought you were kind of mad at me,” I say softly, looking down at the glittering shoes he bought me. Everything I have on is from him, all the way down to the sheer lingerie I’m wearing under my dress.
“Mad?” he asks like he can’t possibly understand why he would be. “I’m not mad, Valerie. I want you to be safe. That’s all I care about.”
I sigh, looking up at him. “And that part I still don’t understand, but I guess it’s okay. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You never could.” His voice is so deep and serious that I actually trust what he’s saying. His confidence moves me, and something in my heart longs for more of it. I want to fall for him, to lose all my senses and allow myself to surrender fully to what I feel, but there’s still resistance.
I’m afraid I’ll get hurt, and I’ve suffered enough already.
“I was going to get an iced coffee,” I say, trying to change the subject. “It’s hot out here today.”
He squints in the sunlight, nodding. “You’re right. I could go for a cup, but you can’t drink that when you’re pregnant. Maybe you should try decaf.”
He takes my hand and pulls me toward his car. I wouldn’t be able to walk on my own because I’m so stunned by what he just said. He really is serious about this baby stuff, which is even more concerning than anything else.
I’m not ready to have a child. I can barely take care of myself.
But Pasha seems wholly unbothered by this, helping me into the passenger’s side of his black Bugatti and sliding in beside me with a confident smile. He places his hand on my thigh, slipping his fingers up my dress until he reaches my panties.
I’m overwhelmed but turned on by how bold he is now. He’s not trying to hide his intentions at all. He wants me at every hour, in every way, and he’s not at all ashamed to say he wants to put a baby in me.
I don’t know whether that’s sexy or psychotic.
Maybe it’s sexybecauseit’s psychotic.
“Iced coffee, huh?” he asks as we peel out of the parking lot, leaving black rubber streaks in the pavement. The sudden change of speed presses my eyeballs in the back of my head, but the pressure feels good. Comforting, in a way.
“I like it that way. Cold and sweet,” I say, putting my hand on his and moving it deeper between my thighs.
He wiggles his fingers. “More like warm and sweet.”
“I thought you preferred it without sugar?” I reply with mock innocence.
He looks over at me and smirks. “I’ll take it any way I can get it, honestly. I justhaveto have it.”
Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I press his hand harder between my legs, humping it and grinding my pussy against his knuckles. Even through my panties, I can feel the little hairs that curl over them, the heat and strength that he possesses. Pasha has more power in the snap of his fingers than a whole army of men combined.
