Page 82 of She Belongs to Me

“Fine. I’ll change, but you better be in jeans.”

“Oh, I assure you, I will be. Who knows. I might wear cowboy boots.”

“And I could have a heart attack.” I backed away, more lighthearted than I’d felt just a few minutes ago.

The ugliness would linger, but for now I could enjoy without worry.

Until night fell.

Once again, I refused to go there.

I laughed as he shook his head, racing out of the room and up the stairs so I could quickly change. It took me no time, although I did throw clothes around the room in finding the perfect shirt. I selected a tee shirt, one in royal purple that had cute little cutouts.

Childish maybe.

But the bad feeling had settled in my stomach. I could feel danger in the air.

CHAPTER 24

Alexandra

He made me wear a goddamn mask, for God’s sake, a blindfold.

“You do realize I’m claustrophobic. Right?” I wasn’t. It was nothing more than a creative lie, but Nico didn’t know that.

“I think you can handle a half hour or so.” His voice was full of an entirely different kind of lilt, which seemed odd to me.

We were in a truck this time, a big black Dodge Ram that also didn’t seem like him in the least.

I folded my arms as he zoomed along, not even allowing the windows to be open. He didn’t want to give the secret away. I’d been pleasantly and erotically surprised when he’d been true to his word, now wearing well-worn yet body-hugging jeans. It was funny to me how damn good men looked in denim.

They could grab their size off the rack and slide into them, never grunting or groaning in trying to get their body shoved into a size too small. Once in a pair, they looked perfect. And with Nico, it appeared as if the jeans had been made for him directly. They hugged the contours of his muscular butt as if he’d come screaming out of his mama in them at birth.

What the thick material did to the front of his jeans between his legs had to be illegal. It had to be.

He was also wearing the cowboy boots he mentioned and not the kind meant to wear inside or only once or twice. He’d really broken them in over a long period of time, the leather and stitching gorgeous, but worn.

“You’re a very mean man. Has anyone ever told you that before?” I asked as he made a sharp turn. I had to brace myself and I knew in my heart he was doing it on purpose.

“More times than I can count.” His laugh was full of energy. What was he up to? “Just sit back and relax. Peek and you will be punished in front of at least fifty people. I don’t think you’d like that.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re really saying that to me of all people?”

“I’ll get you for this.”

“You can try. Others have and all have failed.”

A challenge. I did so like a challenge. A couple of minutes passed and I bit my lower lip before sliding my hand to his thigh.

I was surprised when he didn’t react at all. But when I started to crawl my fingers toward the thick bulge between his legs, he responded by grabbing my hand.

“Tsk. Tsk. You aren’t allowed to touch the merchandise.”

“So you’re merchandise now?”

“I can be anything I want.” Now he was teasing. However, there was a slight shift in his tone. I could almost feel it.

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