Page 7 of The Last Call
“No worries.” I point to her and then back at myself. “This is only between me and you.”
Lust, that rages through me too, flames in her eyes. Just as strong as mine. But almost as if she remembers herself, the desire is gone. Vanishing while her guard returns, building up thicker and stronger than before.
“There is no ‘me and you’ regardless of what you think.”
“What I think is that you want me too and you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.”
“You’re so fucking arrogant.” Her head shakes more furiously than warranted. Needing to convince herself even more than me. “Besides, you’re wasting your time. I don’t do relationships.”
She does with me. Only me from now on. “Fine. I’ll pay you.”
Not really. I don’t have to fucking pay for anything, especially not sex. Hell I turned down some easy pussy in my club while I worked, waiting for this one to finish her so-called date. But I’m more than willing to play her game ? for now ? to get her to settle down.
“No.”
I lift my palms in mock surrender. Reminding her I’m acquiescing to her threat before I slide my hand ever so slowly to my jacket pocket and pull out my wallet. I yank out all my cash and toss the bills on the side table. “Three grand?”
Fury shakes her petite body. That I want to strip down to lick and suck so damn bad. Tie that belt around her wrists and fuck her smart ass mouth until she can’t stand any more and then flip her over make her take me again on her hands and knees.
“Fuck you.”
I unhook the latch on my new Vacheron and drop the watch onto the pile. “Forty grand?”
“You’re a bastard.”
My last ploy. I slide out my car fob and add the key to my bid. “Two and a half million?”
Humiliation stains her cheeks, and her gaze drops along with her shoulders. Defeat engulfing her from my insulting proposals.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I want you Sydney. No matter what it costs, I’m going to be with you.”
Matter of fact but she still shakes her head.
“I will never let you fuck me regardless of how much money you offer me.”
More despondency in her tone than I expect from the severity of her words. Now I’m pissed. At myself for letting this argument drag on. And her for fighting me. The decision’s been made, and she’ll never do anything to make me change my mind. She can never win once I’ve declared victory. With her being the greatest prize. “No more clients. You belong to me now.”
More strands fall from her messy bun when she tosses up her chin. Disputing the claim I have on her. Challenging my ownership of that spectacular body and sassy attitude that needs to be tamed. Of course I’m the man to conquer her.
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
She doesn’t understand me yet. But she will. This isn’t up for debate. I don’t demand. Or ask. Or negotiate. I take. “You’re mine.”
“I?”
A gasp shudders between her parted lips yet she offers no resistance when I jerk the gun out of her elegant fingers and slide the weapon next to my other shit on her credenza. Absolutely zero struggle when I pin her against me. Good. I didn’t want to have to get physical with her. Not yet anyway. Once she’s in my bed, she’ll understand what my hands on her body mean. “You’re too damn beautiful and smart to be giving yourself away to men who don’t deserve you.”
An irritated huff blows against my heated skin as she stares up at me. Nothing but disgust filling her expression. “You don’t deserve me either.”
“Maybe not. But I’m taking you anyway.”
Terror replaces the fervor in her expression, and I swear to god genuine fear seeps through the whimper she lets out. Fuck. Trembling fingers shove against my chest. She’s really scared. I loosen my grip but refuse to let her go. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You already have.”
Bullshit. Absolutely impossible but the ferocity of her accusation makes me question myself which in and of itself is a rare accomplishment. I stroke her back and scan her arms. She doesn’t flinch from my touch or my gaze. Just stares at me with defiance.
