Page 38 of His to Claim

He merely grunts and turns his attention back to the road.

But I’m not letting him off the hook that easily. “Because what if I want you to spank me? What if the idea of your hand on my ass is making me wet and?—”

“Jesus, Carlotta. Enough.” His voice sounds strained and I don’t miss the way he shifts in his seat. He’s just as uncomfortable as I am. Aching like I’m aching.

“Is it, though, Damon? Enough?” I press. “Because no matter how many times you came inside me, I’m still craving more. Still wanting to feel the pleasure only you can give me.”

“We agreed once we went back to the city, you and I would go our separate ways,” he reminds me, but he doesn’t sound quite as convinced as he was before. Probably because it’s a terrible idea.

“I know what you said, but it’s not what I want. I think we owe it to each other to explore whatever this is more fully. Don’t you?”

But he shakes his head. So damn stubborn. “No,” he grits out. “It’s impossible. You’re leaving and I already told you I can’t do that.”

“Why? Because of what happened with Caitlin? This is totally different?—”

“I don’t want a relationship with you, Carlotta.” My heart crumbles within my chest at his cruel words and then his voice softens. But, it’s already too late. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I thought I made that clear.”

For a long moment I don’t say anything. Then the most random thought occurs to me. “I left my dress at the cabin.”

“I can send it to you,” he offers.

“Don’t bother,” I reply sadly. “I don’t want to be reminded of that night. Or of you.”

From the corner of my eye, I think I see him visibly flinch. But maybe it’s just my imagination. After all, I did imagine he would want to try seeing each other once we got back home. Clearly, I was sorely mistaken and that hurts more than I can express.

Perhaps this entire week was nothing more than a distraction for him. It meant so much more to me, but that’s because I allowed myself to be vulnerable. Big mistake. Turning away from him, I draw my legs up and stare out the window for the rest of the ride home. There’s nothing more to say and my heart is breaking on every level for what could’ve been.

When we reach the city, I give him directions to my apartment in the Village and he almost looks surprised. “What?” I ask as he pulls up to the curb.

“Nothing,” he says. “I just didn’t realize how close you are to my place.”

How convenient would that be if we were dating? I want to ask him where exactly he lives, but what’s the point? Getting out of the car, I shut the door and he follows me up to the building. I sigh, unlock the main door and then continue on to my apartment.

“Don’t expect anything fancy,” I warn him, unlocking my door. “I’m not nearly as extravagant as the rest of my family.”

“I don’t live on Billionaire’s Row, either,” he murmurs as we step inside and he looks around.

“It’s all I need. And it’s cozy.”

He nods, walking into the living room, checking it out.

“I’ll go pack.”

“Do it quickly, okay?”

“Wow. You can’t wait to get rid of me,” I state, my tone flat.

“It has nothing to do with getting rid of you,” he says. “This place isn’t safe and the sooner we leave, the better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble and head down to my bedroom. All of my life, I’ve been bossed around and, dare I say, taken for granted. A part of me wants to stand my ground and put up a fight. A fight to stay here at my home and a fight to keep Damon.

Maybe I should start referring to him as Archer again. It might help me put space between us. It also hurts to consider.

Walking into my room, I look around, focus on my bed, and sigh heavily.That bed could’ve seen so much action,I think sadly.Oh, well.I’m used to sleeping alone, so it’ll be back to business as usual. Or, maybe I should say back to no business as usual.

I open my closet and pull my suitcase out, debating what I should bring with me on the trip when I hear a sound behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Damon standing in the doorway.

“Hurry up, Carlotta,” he tells me, and I frown.

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