I glared at him and put my fork down too. “No, I don’t. I told you, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Then what is it—are we dating or not?”
“I don’t know. Before you wanted me to be your employee and now you want to date. Why the change of heart?”
He sighed. “I realized I had to change my expectations in order to have you. It’s called compromise, Amy.”
“You said you don’t date.”
“I don’t.”
“But you want to date me.”
“You catch on quickly,” he said dryly.
I glared at him until his lip twitched and then punched him lightly, smiling in spite of myself.
He took my hands in his, tugging gently so that I was turned to face him, our legs entwined. “I don’t want to play any more games, Amy.”
I nodded, biting my lip. I didn’t want to play any more games either. They were exhausting.
“So are we going to try this or not? If you say yes, we can discuss last night or just spend the day together, whichever you want. But I will not want you to work at Mix. I’ve not had a girlfriend in ages and I do not like to share.”
His thumbs stroked the back of my hands in gentle circles, and my pulse quickened. He looked at me pointedly before continuing. “If you say no, I’ll understand and won’t stand in your way, but I won’t ask again.”
My throat went dry. He wouldn’t ask again. Suddenly, I realized how much I wanted Dallon in my life. But I didn’t have a choice.
“I need that job,” I said softly. “I told Michelle I was quitting for another job, and she said she was going to call someone else to take my place.”
“I see.”
Panic swelled like a balloon in my chest, but I tried to keep my voice steady. “It won’t be that bad, Dallon. It’s just a job.”
His jaw tightened. “Not to me. So what’s your answer? Would you like to date me or not?”
Of course I do, I wanted to say without any hesitation, but he wasn’t hearing me. “I need a job to pay my rent, and I no longer have my job at the café.”
He smiled wryly. “It’s a yes or no question, Miss Clair. If you agree to try, you have to trust me that it will work out.”
“How?” I asked in a small voice, hoping against hope that his solution wouldn’t be the modeling position in another form.
“Let me help you. I can cover you for a month—loan you money—until you get on your feet.”
“I don’t know how long it will take.”
“Then move in here. Temporarily,” he added, putting his hands up. “Save rent money.”
I sighed and shook my head, pulling my hands away. “I already told you—I won’t work for you, Dallon.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
I looked back into his eyes and could tell he was being honest; he really just wanted me around and to help me out. The knowledge sent both a thrill and a chill through me.
“That’s crazy. We barely know each other.”
“You can even live in the guestroom for now, if you’re not ready to share a bed,” he smirked.
“That’s very generous of you, but I don’t think so,” I said, laughing it off.
“What’s the worse than can happen?”
He was smiling his charming smile, like he really didn’t understand the enormity of what he was asking. I had to admit, part of me was totally intrigued with the idea; the part that wanted to be reckless instead of cautious Amy, that was in love with his home and undeniably intrigued by the man in front of me. But it was a fairytale.
I looked down at my lap. “I could get used to living here and nothing else could compare. Then when it falls apart, I’ll be the one that suffers; I won’t have a home.”
“You make it sound like it’s inevitable,” he said with a low growl.
I shrugged.
This seemed to anger him more. “You think I’d just keep you to the curb without helping you find somewhere else to live? That’s ridiculous, Amy. I care about you.”
“What you’re asking isn’t… normal,” I stammered.
He laughed harshly. “Did I ever claim to be normal, Amy? No. I told you last night that I am very far from normal. I thought you’d figured that out the day we met.”
I closed my eyes, the memory of last night’s conversation at the front of my mind. “You said that you like to control women in bed.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Yes.”
“But this doesn’t have anything to do with that?”
He looked at me steadily. “Of course it does.”
I made a shocked noise. “And you don’t think there’s something wrong with asking me to give up a serving job and move in instead?”
He shrugged, unashamed. “It’s what I want, and I always get what I want.”
I sighed. Dallon King was the most frustrating and arrogant person I’d ever met. “You’re basically asking me to be your mistress.”
He smirked. “I’m an old fashioned man, Miss Clair.”
“But see I’m not an old fashioned woman.”
“Too bad, because back in the day women often worked as muses.” He sucked gently on my earlobe before whispering in my ear: “I’d love you to be my muse.”
I pulled away again. “Back in the day women needed men to support them. They didn’t have much of a choice, and they did a lot of things they didn’t want to do.”
Dallon sat back and raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re afraid of, being indebted to me? You think that if I let you live here while you figure out what you’re meant to do, I’ll expect you to return the gesture with sexual favors?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m afraid of being dependent on you.”
“See, and that’s exactly what I want of you, Miss Clair,” he whispered, leaning forward again to press his forehead to mine. “I want you to look to me for support and to respect me. I also want to spoil you; it’s how I show I care.”
I frowned. “That sounds more like I’d be your child.”
Dallon pulled back, a look of disgust on his face. “Would I want to fuck my child, Miss Clair?”
I flinched at the harshness of the word. “Is that what you want? To fuck me?”
“I’ve wanted that since the day I met you. Right now that’s especially what I want to d
o, and hard. You’re managing to press all my angry buttons.”
I swallowed. Apparently Dallon was done sugar coating everything. “By asking me to give up a job and move in, you don’t just want to control me in bed.”
He waved his hand around. “Everything is all messed up with you. The lines between real life and sex are blurred. I want it all.”
His confession shocked me. I entwined my fingers, struggling to believe I was actually hearing this, that he could be so brazen. Everything in my body was telling me to run, that Dallon was a loose cannon and potentially dangerous, but I stayed put.
“Eat your breakfast,” he said, spinning in his seat to face his plate again.
Chapter Twelve
I felt like I’d just tumbled through the rabbit hole.
Dallon had admitted what he wanted, and even though a large part of it freaked me out, I also respected that he wasn’t afraid to voice it. His desires were against society; men that wanted to control women were thought of as chauvinists or borderline rapists. Women that let themselves be controlled—or wanted to be controlled—were anti-feminist or sluts. These were the thoughts running through my mind as I finished the last bite of my breakfast and Dallon disappeared, only to return with a box wrapped in silver paper.
“I have a present for you,” he said, passing me the box.
I took it gingerly. “What is it?”
“That’s not how it works.”
Feeling nervous with his eyes on me, I unwrapped the present. It was a brand new iPhone 5. I looked up at him with surprise. “You bought me an iPhone?”
He smiled. “I went out and got it this morning. I also added you to my plan so that you can check your emails,” he added with a wink.
I pulled it out of the box, admiring how sleek it was. I’d never had an iPhone before, but I’d always wanted one. I’d always wanted a white one, too.
“Do you like it?”
I looked up again to see his smiling face, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that he couldn’t give it to me. “It was very nice of you, but you didn’t have to do it.”
“I know. I wanted to. Remember what I said about wanting to spoil you?”