Page 39 of The Contract

“Why, because you stole all those things?”

I jolt. How the hell did he figure that out? “I didn’t—”

“How did you manage that without coming into a place like this?”

My eyes dart around. What if there are cameras in here? “Maybe we could discuss this another time?”

“Relax,” he says, as though he isn’t grinning wickedly. “Try on the clothes.”

“No.”

His nostrils flare. He’s getting pissed. But I’m angry too.

I say, “We wouldn’t need to be here if you hadn’t thrown out half my clothes.”

“I’m replacing them.”

“That’s not the point.”

He stalks toward me. I back away until I hit the wall by the door. The clothes—beautiful, expensive clothes that, yes, I love and, yes, are far better than what he discarded from my apartment—are hanging a mere foot away.

Dante cages me in, his hands planting on the either side of me. His dark eyes bore into mine. “So what’s the point?”

I stare right back. “You fucked with my things.”

“I didn’t break the rules.”

“Bullshit.”

I’m tempted to remind him that he backed down last night after talking to Noah. I still don’t know who the hell Noah is, but he’s obviously important to Dante. He also, obviously, has some control over Dante. I’m shocked to think that anyone has any control over him.

I’m also shocked, given that dynamic, that Dante gave me Noah as my emergency contact. No wonder Kenzie reacted like she did when she saw his name on the contract.

I’m desperate to know about Noah, but I don’t want to bring up the power play I made last night. I still can’t believe I called a total stranger at 4 a.m., but it was better than the alternative. Using the safe word was out of the question, and I didn’t want to give in. It was mostly a matter of principle. I couldn’t let Dante get away with what he’d done.

When I realized this morning that he’d actually thrown out some of my clothes, all my anger came rushing back. So here we are.

“Fine,” he grits out. He grabs the clothes, opens the door, and tosses them out. I gape at him, shocked that he would do that in a store like this. Then he locks the door and cages me against the wall again.

My heart skips when he unbuttons my jeans. Blood flows to my cock as he slides my zipper down. Is he actually going to fuck me in this dressing room?

He bends like he’s going to kiss me, but instead his teeth close gently on my throat. I barely swallow down the moan that tries to escape as my cock thickens.

His hands glide under my t-shirt. His thumbs brush my nipples as he bites my throat harder. My body arches into him. A sound of pleasure rumbles from him, vibrating against my throat.

He draws back to push my shirt up. As I pull it off, he sinks to his knees before me. He pulls my pants open and watches as my cock swells against the navy fabric of my briefs. Then he unties my shoes. He tugs them off. I let him. On a certain level, I’m horrified by the thought of him fucking me in here. On another, I’m strangely thrilled.

I can’t believe how quickly I’ve come to crave having his cock in my ass.

Maybe I should be angry with him for leaving me tied up for so long last night, for edging me until I was begging. But I loved it. The way he took control of me. The way he possessed me. The way he made me come.

When my feet are bare, he tugs my pants down. By now my dick is a hard rod, pressing against my underwear.

“Hmm,” he murmurs as he squeezes my ass. “There’s something about this I don’t like. All this fabric.”

His hands slide around to my groin. He traces the outline of my cock. My hips press forward with a mind of their own.

He gazes up at me. His dark eyes are seductive. “Don’t you think there’s something wrong with this picture?”

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