Page 116 of On a Fault Line

He has the nerve to look genuinely confused. Must I spell everything out? For an intuitive man, he seems to be missing the mark today.

“The possessive caveman thing. It’s creepy.”

“Is it?”

I huff out a breath. “Yes. It feels like I’m on the verge of being kidnapped and have no way of preventing it.”

“If I wanted to, I would. And I could make it look like an accident.”

“See?” I point my finger at his face in accusation. “That right there.”

“What?”

“The way your eyes darken, and it makes me actually believe what you are saying.”

“You should believe me,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Let’s get you a cheeseburger. I refuse to be your next meal.”

He takes a step forward. “You just might be.” His breathy words tickle my lips, he’s that close. “Youaretasty.”

“Am I now?”

“Yes. Like drinking the sweetest nectar from a life-giving source.”

“Hmm…”

Collins’s kiss is hard and needy, just like the growing erection in his shorts. “I want to get drunk off your taste.”

After several seconds, I pull back. I can’t allow his seduction to keep me from saying my piece. For a man of few words, he seems to know the exact ones to use on me. But I can’t allow him to know that. He would use them against me any chance he got, and I would turn into a puddle. “And I want to get drunk off of actual tequila, because all of this”—I motion between us—“overprotective bullshit is making me anxious. I can’t control what other people do, and I shouldn’t pay a price for someone else’s actions.”

“If he touches you again, I won’t care who witnesses me breaking his hands.”

“No one is going to touch me. Not even you. This is why I need to buy batteries in bulk for my toys. Who needs a dick when you have a dildo?”

Taking my wrists, he pushes me back, pinning me effectively against the wall. Grinding his hips, he hits the right spot and I melt. My mouth opens as a moan escapes.

“Can your dildo do that?” he asks bluntly, releasing his hold.

He knows the answer. He knows the effect only he has over my entire body. Even my subconscious thoughts consist of him. He infiltrates every part of me.

When I’m awake, I think of Collins.

When I’m asleep, I still think of Collins.

But I can’t give him this satisfaction. I can’t allow him to think that he has won this battle—a battle that is still ongoing. I have approximately three more hours to be here, and if he thinks he can dictate every word out of my mouth that I speak to Ivan, then he has a big shock ahead. Because while we do have a contract in place, in no clause does it give him full authority over the people I associate with in my life.

“Penelope?”

“Hmm?”

“What did Ivan say to you when he whispered into your ear?”

Oh. That’s what has him so haughty… He hates the unknown. I want to dangle this secret information around as bait but decide to just be up-front. It doesn’t mean anything anyway. “He told me that when summer fades, hearts unite in the fallout. Hmm…it’s kind of poetic.”

“You’ve got to be joking me,” Collins says, busting out in laughter.

He doubles over.

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