Page 60 of For Wrath and Redemption
If I wanted him to fuck me, he’d gladly do it.
And unfortunately, just the thought of it makes my body hot. I have to press my palms into my eyes to force away the images of his naked, tattooed chest. He hasn’t been naked in front of me since we recorded “Landslide,” and truth be told, I’m disappointed. Disappointed but also grateful. If it happened again, I’d probably let myself look. My imagination is running wild, and it’s almost too much to bear.
18
CLAIRE
The security guarddrops me at the hotel, and I make my way to the suite on my own. I open the door, flip on the light, then go straight for the bathroom to take off my makeup. I go through my nighttime routine, then walk back into the suite to grab a water from the mini fridge.
I stop in my tracks.
There is a small teal gift bag on the table. The excitement that surges through me is embarrassing, and even though I’m alone, I blush. Would Jonah have gotten me a gift?
No. That’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t do something like that. This probably isn’t even for me.
But then my thoughts turn to the little chess piece. The wooden queen that he painted for me after our visit to the Stockholm Youth Center. I have it safely tucked away in my carry-on luggage. Jonah can be sweet. He’s surprised me a lot lately. So maybe...
I reach inside the bag and pull out a small white box with a card. The card has my name on it, so I open it carefully. Then I frown.
I miss you.
- C
Conrad. A plethora of conflicting emotions floods my mind. I’m barely able to begin sifting through them when the door to the suiteswings open, and I whip around to find Jonah. I quickly hide the card behind my back, then shove it into the band of my pajama shorts.
I must look guilty as hell because Jonah’s eyes narrow with suspicion, and then they drop to the bag on the table. His responding smile is sinister as he stalks toward me.
“Did the rich prick send you expensive jewelry?”
I don’t answer, and he laughs.
“Can you be bought, Trouble?” He reaches past me and grabs the white box. “Do you think he bought something similar for Dierdre?”
He pulls the lid off the box and drops it to the floor. Then he breaks our eye contact to survey what’s in the box. I haven’t even looked yet, but when he smiles once more, I know I won’t like it.
“Yellow gold? If he’s going to drop this kind of money to buy your loyalty, he could at least get you something you’d like.”
I grit my teeth. “You don’t know what I like.”
“Your earrings are rose gold. That delicate little necklace you wear is rose gold. The little diamond pave ring you wear on your middle finger is rose gold.” He drops the box onto the floor next to the lid, then pulls the neck of my pajama top down. He traces my collarbone, and I suck in a harsh breath. Then, he hooks his finger into my necklace. “Rose gold, Davis. This fuck doesn’t know you at all.”
My brow furrows, and I tear my eyes away from his to glance at the floor. A chunky, gold, chain-link bracelet encrusted with diamonds lies on the carpet. It must have cost Conrad over ten thousand dollars, but Jonah is right. I hate it.
“See? You’d never wear something so ostentatious.” Jonah’s voice is gloating, but his tone is intimate. “No. Claire Davis, you prefer classy and elegant. Understated.” He hooks his thumb under my chin and tilts my face back to his. He smiles. “How does it feel to know your boyfriend will spend twenty grand to dress you like a cheap slut?”
I slap him. And then I gasp, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. I have to swallow back the impulse to apologize. I watch, eyes widening, as his cheek blooms red from where my hand connected.
And then he fucking laughs. He takes a step toward me, backing me against the table until I can feel his panted breaths ghosting over my lips. He pins me with his blue eyes, and like prey cornered by a predator, I freeze.
“You can take it out on me if you need to, Trouble. You give me all your anger. I can handle it.” He slides his hands into my hair and cradles the back of my head. “You want to slap me? You want to call me names? Do it. I fucking want you to. He doesn’t pay attention to you, and that pisses you off. Good. It should. It pisses me off for you. But you know what?”
When I don’t answer, he tightens his grip on my hair. The sting shoots straight to my clit, surprising me, and I press my thighs together. He pulls just a little more, and I have to swallow back a whimper. My nipples harden. If he looked down, he’d see it.
He repeats himself slowly.
“Do you know what, Claire?”
I swallow roughly. “What?”
