Page 110 of Priceless

“What does that mean?”

“You exasperate me.”

I turned to face him. Slipping a hand up his white T-shirt, I ran my nails over his broad bare back and cupped his cock through his boxers. The warm length, hard and hungry, jerked in my grasp.

Immediately, my hands were pinned against my pillow. I tried to move my wrists and couldn’t.

“Christina.” His voice was a warning. “You want me to stay the night? Stop.”

“Oh, really.” I arched toward him, stroking his calf with my foot, and tugged my wrists. His iron grip was painfully delicious. “Is that what you want? Don’t you want to take me like this, in my bed, so I remember it every time I’m here?”

His nostrils flared. It was like a switch had been thrown. Lust smoked in his eyes, clouding the clear blue.

“No. You’re sick.”

“Please, Patrick.” Jesus, my legs were spreading, inviting him in. I was trying to seduce him in my own room. “Make me better.”

He closed his eyes, his huge body tensing above mine. When they opened, I stared into freezing blue. His fingers dug into my wrists.

“Don’t try my patience again.”

“But—”

“Be a good girl tonight and I’ll reward you on Monday. If you displease me, you’ll regret it, Christina. You’ll be very sorry.”

“How sorry?” I pushed.

He smiled coldly. “Let’s just say I can be a lot meaner than you’ve seen. You know I won’t hesitate to make you cry. That would only be the beginning. You think you’d like it, but you won’t.”

“Would you really want to be that mean to me?”

His eyes narrowed. “If you’re asking whether it would get me hard, the answer’s yes. I like you embarrassed.”

That wasn’t what I was asking, and we both knew it.

Slowly, I nodded. “I’ll be good.”

He released my wrists. “That’s my girl.”

Liar,I wanted to say.I’m not yours.

Standing, he paced a circle around my room, his chest rising and falling. He paused by his jeans like he was considering putting them on.

“The bathroom’s down the hall if you want a cold shower,” I said helpfully.

He stopped at the bed and touched the tip of my nose. “Don’t look so disappointed. Believe me, it’s better this way.”

I pulled the covers up to my neck. “Why do you need so much control?”

He turned away, surveying the mess on my desk. “Don’t ask me that.”

Rain spattered my window, glistening in the frame of the twinkle lights. Patrick leaned over me to retrieve the book from its spot on the blankets. I told him which chapter and page number I wanted him to read.

“That’s very specific.”

“I’ve read it a few times.”

When he lay down beside me, I rested my head on his chest, listening to the deep rumble of his voice. The rhythm was soothing; the words tumbled over us both. Once he finished the chapter, I reached over to my bedside table and turned off the lamp.

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