Page 98 of The Pucking Wrong Man

“Where are we going now?” I whisper-yelled because we’d just spent an obscene amount of money, and I was feeling a little crazy about it. I needed to get back to his penthouse and clean something or cook dinner. There was no way that all of this came with the sponsorship. My skin felt tight across my bones.

“We need to get stuff for your bedroom,” he said calmly, like it was nothing as we walked to another high-end store in the shopping center.

I stopped in my tracks, and his body rocked back as I pulled on his hand—that had once again been holding mine. “What? No! Absolutely not. You may have used the sponsorship as an excuse to buy all that stuff, but there’s no way that things for my bedroom are included in that.”

“And by the way,” I said, gesturing wildly in the air with my free hand, “that is not my bedroom. That is your guest room. Where I am staying as a guest.” My chest was heaving, and I probably looked insane as I finished, wide-eyed and sweating slightly.

A beautiful sight, I’m sure.

“Those sheets are scratchy,” he said matter of factly. “You can’t dance when you sleep on scratchy sheets.”

“I was sleeping on a cot in a homeless shelter. Those are the definition of scratchy sheets,” I hissed loudly, ducking my head when I caught someone’s stare.

We were standing in the tiled corridor that connected all the stores. There was a fancy fountain behind us and white lights strung everywhere.

“If you don’t let me buy my favorite sheets in purple—because that’s your favorite color, I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you because you’re being a brat.” Camden’s face was perfectly expressionless as he said that, as if it was normal everyday behavior to tell another grown adult you were going to spank them.

Examining Camden’s face, though...maybe it was.

And why was my leotard soaking wet again at the thought of it?

I bet he’d make me feel so good after the pain.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, once again, crowding against me, even though there were people passing us on the left and right. “You like that idea...me spanking you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I huffed, trying to yank my hand away to hide the fact that my nipples were like diamonds popping out through my top.

As if he could read my mind, his eyes darted down to my chest, and he growled softly, his gaze searching around like he was looking for anyone daring to stare.

“Let’s just zip this up,” he said, as he pulled my jacket together and zipped it up to my chin.

I made a choking sound and swatted his hand away, pulling it down to a less chokeworthy level.

“Shall we proceed?” he asked, a wide, mocking smirk on his face because he knew he’d won.

I nodded, feeling like the brat he’d called me at the moment.

Normal people accepted gifts. I could do it. I could be normal.

We walked hand in hand to a home store, and I immediately messed up by glancing at a few things that had caught my eye. They somehow ended up in the basket. I wanted to object, because that furry rug and that gold frame was not a set of purple sheets. But the attendant was drooling over Camden as we walked, and I didn’t want to make a scene by refusing them.

Maybe you are a user, just like Michael said...

The voice was loud, but I tried to block it out, just like I tried not to tear up when I touched sheets that felt like heaven.

I failed at both.

Later that night, Camden came into my room which was now stuffed full of all the new things he'd bought me. He’d also grilled me steak for dinner—that literally melted on my tongue—and cheesy potatoes that I could have eaten every day.

It had been the best day of my life.

“Goodnight, little dancer,” Camden said as he literally tucked me into bed and pulled my new sheets up to my chin, his eyes burning with an emotion I didn’t understand. He pressed a soft kiss against my lips, and I wanted to ask him to stay. But I didn’t.

Soon.

Soon, I’d be brave enough to ask Camden James to come to bed with me.

Just not tonight...

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