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He sucks his teeth, like there’s a whole lot more he wants to say to me, but he’s doing all he can to hold himself back. Then, like the asshat he is, he settles on, “Your job is to show the world I’m off limits. That I’m not interested in them. That you own every dark corner of my beating heart.” The air crackles between us like lightening. Charged. “Your job is to prove to everyone that this, us, is as real as it gets. To show the world that I have all of you. Every inch of you, inside and out, ismine.”
“And what’s your job in all of this?”
“To take care of you. To make sure you want for nothing. To prove to any man who even dares to look that you belong to me.” He catches my chin between thumb and finger when I scoff at that last one, because mendon’tlook at me. “It’s my job to keep you safe. To make sure you’re not working yourself to death just to eat a hot meal.” His thumb comes up to sweep across my bottom lip. “This mouth is mine. This body—” he grips my hip with his other hand. “As far as anyone else is aware, ismine.”
I shudder, gasping, “We need lines. Boundaries.”
“Lines are made for crossing and boundaries are fun to stretch.”
“Cash.” A small cry spills into the space between us as he grips me by the waist fast, lifting me and setting me on the cold granite of the countertop. He spreads my legs and steps between them—and that charged air that crackled between us before ignites in flame.
“I don’t do lines and boundaries, Kitten. That shit always blurs anyway.” His hands grip my hips, fingers digging into my flesh in a way that has me aching between my legs. I hate how responsive I am to this man. How easily he plays my body with his musician hands. “Get used to me touching you. Get used to my lips on your skin. And fucking expect that I’m gonna whisper dirty shit in your ear, in private and in public, because I fucking love when you blush for me.” I feel his hands pulse possessively. “This is your last chance to walk away from me before this gets real, understood?”
“What do you mean, real?”
“Real as in you stop thinking of this as fake. It’s messing with your head.”
He’s the one messing with my head. “But itisfake.”
“Wrenlee.” My name is a warning.
Meeting his eyes with my own, I whisper, “I can’t walk away.”
He leans in, all smoke and cinnamon hearts. “Why not?”
“Because you gave away my job.”Why do I feel so breathless?
He wets his lips, thinking. When he speaks, the words are reluctant. It’s almost like he’s afraid to say what he’s going to say.
I hold my breath. It burns like fire in my lungs.
He pins me with his eyes. “If you don’t want to do this with me, I won’t make you. I promised I’d take care of you, and I will. You won’t be on the street, and you won’t go back to that shithole. I’ll get you a place to live, make sure you’ve got food while you’re in school. But if you do this with me, you do this. You give yourself over to me and make this look real. Make it feel real.” His large hands on my hips squeeze, as though he’s afraid I might decide to walk away, and he’s not certain he’ll let me go.
The idea that this big, rough man, might not be able to let me go is—seductive.
I don’t know why, but I want him to want me.For me.
This is going to wreck me.
Thismanis going to wreck me.
Still, trembling with nerves, decision made—soul signed away in blood—I lean forward and touch my lips to his. It’s hesitant and uncertain because I’ve never initiated a kiss, but I whisper against his lips, “I’ll be yours until this is over.”
twelve
Cash
It’ll never be over.
She doesn’t know it, but I have no intention of letting her go. Not ever. Especially not now that she’s agreed to be mine, even if it’s still fake in her mind. Giving her the option to leave, all expenses paid, and she chose to stay—that says everything.
But she’s skittish, innocent. I’m not sure if I laid the cards on the table and told her this isn’t fake to me anymore, that she’d have made the same choice. She holds herself apart from the people around her. I recognize this trait, because it’s one I also possess. Her mom did a number when she walked away. Connections are hard and trust is damn near impossible.
I’m determined to build both with her.
Still, I can’t take the risk of spooking her. Can’t cope with the fact she might decide to run.
I’m not sure I’d let her go.
