“And be owned by you?” I’m teetering along a perilous line, but I don’t care. “There’s no difference if I’m here, with you or Blake. And really, Milton, when do you throw a contract in front of a girl? Before or after dinner?”
“You almost sound…jealous.” He captures my face with his free hand, and I fight a moan from his touch, losing the battle. I can’t bear it. That he, of all people, is the one making me feel like this. “Bet you’re wondering why all the secrecy? What could I possibly be doing to those women? Let’s just say…I don’t ever get complaints.”
“You’re revolting. I will never willingly give myself to you.”
“And you are, once again, proving to me that you’re not worth my time. However…” Stepping closer, his hand drops to my pants. Aware of what he’s about to do, I slam my fists into his chest as hard as I can. Not that it seems to faze him as he loosens the strings of my pants and dips beneath the waistband. Once he’s down, he pushes my panties to the side, sinking two fingers into me.
And I moan. I fucking moan for him.
The edges of my vision whiten as he brings forth what he left earlier today, sensations that make me want to do bad things. And I hate him. I fucking hate him. “You like this, and it changes things.”
“It changes nothing.” His fingers move, pushing inside of me slowly, causing my body to tremble all over again. “Call it my body’s reaction, self-defense from sick assholes like you. I don’t like you.”
“And I don’t like you. You are insufferable, and since you won’t sign the fucking NDA, a liability.”
I push my hips forward brazenly, deepening him inside of me. It almost tips me over the edge, but seeing confusion and anger in his eyes, makes it worth it. “The only liability around here is you. You could fuck my brains out, and I’d still feel nothing. Maybe a few years ago, I would have, but you gave me nothing. Not even when I worshipped the ground you walked on because I thought you were the only one who cared about me. How stupid I was, seeing as you only cared about your own agenda.” He goes to pull his hand away, but I grab his wrist to keep him there. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but you only want me to sign because it’s you who likes doing this to me. Am I wrong?”
“Sign, and I might tell you.”
“No.”
“And here I was, willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself.” This time he does pull away. Gasping, I slump against the wall, body throbbing. Screaming. He did it again, and I’m losing my mind, so turned on my panties are drenched. And he knows it.
Fuck, I want to cry. Hurt him.
Stepping back a little, he lifts his black T-shirt. At first, all I see is toned muscle. Skin that looks smooth in the moonlight. As my eyes follow the dark smattering of hair trailing down his naval, I spot it—a bullet-shaped scar just above his right hip. Lifting my eyes to his heated stare, I know exactly what that is. “Nick did shoot you.”
“He did, thanks to you.” He drops his T-shirt.
“How did you—”
“Survive?” He chuckles, but it sounds off. “Dima—a friend.”
“I’m not apologizing,” I say, even though the thought of him being shot because of my lies makes my stomach turn. “You want to punish me, then do your worst. But anything else…” Pulling scraps of energy from God knows where I lean off the wall and walk over to him. He stands still, teeth clenched behind his lips, but nothing else. Not even as my fingers skim against the front of his jeans, touching the solid erection bulging behind the material. Hard, as I knew he would be. “You’re not getting from me.”
He catches my wrist in his hand, and the side of his lip tugs upward, the green in his eyes catching fire. I wince when his finger grazes off the bandage, close to the healing wound, but it does nothing to stop the eruption inside my chest, my heart thumping hard and wild. “Don’t tempt me.” The British comes out more robust than it’s ever been.
“I’m not.” I jut my chin out defiantly. “I’m daring you.” It’s not me. This isn’t what I do, but something about Milton wants me to break boundaries and rules. “And if you succeed in making my life more miserable than it is, then you can have me.”
Breathing a heavy, slow sigh out through his nose, he lets go and takes a step back. Stopping by the table, he picks up all the items Lisa left behind. The phone, key card, and that damn ring. I’m shaking like a leaf and so dizzy, but I stand boldly as he takes enough steps back to reach the door.
“You might be sorry you said that,” he says, giving me one last glance before walking out of my room. After listening to the last of his fading steps, all I can do is return to the corner of my room, his touch haunting my skin and his words ringing in my head.
You might be sorry you said that.
Chapter Thirteen
Two Years Ago
As night descends, it brings forth a new kind of atmosphere at the festival. The air quickly changes from fun and relaxed to carnage and chaos. Music blares outside—some rock band the culprit that riles the crowd and injects crazy into every drunken soul in this strange place.
Smoke, beer, and
