Page 157 of On a Fault Line

“Are you sore?”

“Yes,” she pants.

“Good. Now you’ll have a strong reminder not to cross me when it comes to other men.”

“Next time don’t leave me.”

I swallow hard. “I never want to leave you, Princess.”

30

PENNY

Collins is not a shouter. He commands a room with his quiet authority, and even when I think he’ll lose his cool, his calm demeanor prevails.

But right now, he is shouting.

And I don’t think I can keep my lips from curling up. Even I know that nothing good will come from a smile in this moment, and yet I can’t keep it from happening.

He’s been broody ever since he saw Chris enjoying time with me on the couch. I thought a good fuck—times two—would work out his aggressions over the situation and make him more pliable to agree to girls’ night.

But apparently I was wrong.

Maybe he thought a good fuck fest would make me so tired that I would forget my ultimate goal.

Also wrong.

So here we are, standing in his living room, about to go head-to-head on the issue of him not wanting me to go out to the club with the girls.

“It’s unfair not to allow me this girl time.”

“You had girl time all afternoon.”

“Well, I want girl night too.”

“Then I’ll take you back to Claire’s house for a sleepover or you can have them over to your apartment. But you aren’t going to some club,” Collins forbids.

“Yes, I am.”

“We have a contract in place.”

“I know that,” I say, propping my hands on my hips. “And the contract gives you the privilege to attend with me, but it does not give you the luxury to keep me locked up in your candy-coated prison.”

“Candy-coated prison?”

I shrug. “Sugar-Daddy Shack was trademarked.”

Collins’s chiseled jaw tenses, as he takes half a step back. Sighing, he rubs at the back of his neck and casts his gaze away from me.

Oh shit. He’s pissed off. Like really pissed off.

But this is what I do. I walk the line of pushing the boundaries, hoping I don’t cross over to the side of no return. Based on the mean expression he is sporting, I know I’m approaching it soon.

But fuck it. I’m invested now. And he’s being pigheaded over something as simple as girls’ night.

“Can we at least discuss this?” I try.

“What’s to discuss when the answer is a solid no?”

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