Page 68 of Necessary Cruelty

His smile of dark anticipation makes my knees go weak.

“Give me your terms.”

“You get my brother out of jail, or at least get his charges knocked down to something that will have him out well before he dies of old age.”

“Is that it?”

I force a deep inhalation of air into my lungs, preparing myself. “And if this is a business arrangement, which I agree is the only way it makes sense, then sex has to be off the table.”

I expect him to fight me, but instead he just smiles. I feel reassured for about a millisecond.

“No.”

I jerk back like I’ve been slapped. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean that your terms are unacceptable, but I’m open to making a counter offer.” He navigates the car onto the exit for the coastal highway, and the ocean looms big and bright ahead of us. “I will do whatever I can to help your brother. But sex is definitely on the table. And in the car, the pool house, my parent’s bed, even in the school cafeteria if the mood strikes us.”

“That’s disgusting,” I scoff.

“Is it? I bet if I stuck my hands down your pants right now, you’d be wet and ready for me.”

I clamp my hands together in my lap to stop them from trembling. “You don’t get to talk to me like this.”

“I’m Vin Cortland, sweetheart. I can do whatever I want.”

My lips thin as I glare at his profile. “Then maybe you should just take me back to school, and we can forget all about it.”

“Take a joke, Milbourne.” He signals to exit for the beach, and the car slows down as we end up on one of the meandering roads that wind toward the ocean. “We are negotiating, after all. But if I give something up, then I’m going to want something else in return. What are you willing to trade if I kill the dirty talk?”

“No sex until after the wedding, then.” I insist on it, not because it matters, but so I can feel like I still have some control over this situation that is quickly flying off the rails. There is a very thin line between a whore and trophy wife, but I’d still like to stay on the right side of it.

His smile is brief. “Done.”

I wonder if I’ve fallen into Wonderland, because everything has suddenly turned upside down. This is not the conversation I wanted to have with him, and I hate that he managed to turn it into this. I’d been so angry with him, ready to tear him into pieces, and now we’re talking about sex.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how a negotiation works. If you want some time to come up with a list, then you should say so.” His hands glide over the steering wheel with the same strokes he would use to explore the contours of a woman’s body. From the heated look he casts me, the association is deliberate. “But just so you know, I’m already willing to offer you quite a bit. I even ate you out at the Founder’s Ball. I never do that.”

I want to ask him how he got so good at it without any practice, but manage to bite my tongue before the words spill out. This is surreal and not what I planned, but it also might be the most civil conversation we’ve had in years. I could almost pretend that the fragile friendship we used to have is still intact. If an uncomfortable sex talk gets Zion the help he needs, then I’m willing to put up with it.

And there isn’t any other reason to engage with Vin worth mentioning.

“Then you stopped before I came,” I scoffed. “Teasing is worse than nothing at all.”

“Is that what has you so upset? I guess Sophia’s face is as good an outlet for your sexual frustration as anything else.”

“It’s not sexual frustration, you dick. My fingers work just fine.”

I freeze, unable to believe I just said that out loud.

Too late to snatch it back, because Vin already heard every word. His head slowly turns to face me, gaze intent on my face. I shift to glare out the window before he can see my blush.

“Is that so?” His voice turns low and seductive. “Did you think about me while you were bringing yourself off, wishing it was my tongue between your legs and not your own fingers?”

I shake my head, still refusing to look at him. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Not a fucking chance.” He grips the gear shift hard, watching me as his fingers stroke the leather.

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