Page 96 of Corrupted Deception

“Do you realize you’re exactly the same?” she said, her voice composed, her silver eyes giving nothing away.

“The same as what?” I asked.

She shook her head more, looking exasperated. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

Ah, so that’s what she meant. I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’m taller now.”

I crossed the room, closing the distance between us while Ray wandered out of the room and down the hall like he’d gotten bored with the humans.

She rolled her eyes. “You were always tall, but that’s not what I mean,” she said, almost impetuously. It was cute.

I took the empty shot glass from her hand and set it down on the granite counter. “I know what you mean,tempesta.” I grabbed hold of her hip and pulled her to me, but her tits had barely brushed against my chest when she pushed against me and sidestepped me.

“I wish you weren’t,” she said flatly, no hint of impetuousness or humor in her tone.

“Why’s that?”

“What was it exactly?” she asked, ignoring my question like she was revving up to give me another bout of whiplash. “Did you not realize I had a pussy like all the other girls you fucked?” she asked like she was talking about the weather.

What was that now? I blinked hard like that could somehow make sense of what was happening here.

“Or was it you worried that fucking a girl no one else wanted would fuck with your reputation?” she went on, and finally, I figured it out.

“No one else wanted?” I laughed coldly. “Are you insane? Every asshole wanted to fuck you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Which is why I warned every one of them to stay the fuck away.”

Her whole body went still. I wasn’t sure she was even breathing.

“You did what?” she asked, her voice eerily quiet.

Fortunately, I wasn’t a man who was easily cowed.

“You heard me.” I closed the distance she’d put between us in two strides, forcing her to look up to hold my gaze.

“You were mine—fucking mine, Charlotte. Even if you didn’t want to see it. Even if you used every excuse in the book to stay away from me. Even when you took off and disappeared without a single god damned word, you were mine.”

She opened her mouth, but I wasn’t finished.

I tunneled my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and held her right where I wanted her.

You’re still mine, I said without saying right before I claimed her lips. Not kissed them. I wanted her branded.

Marked.

Mine.

She softened against me for the span of a heartbeat, but then her body stiffened. She wrenched her lips away, got her hands between us again and shoved.

“I am notyours, and this is a bad idea,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

Yes, she was. And no, it wasn’t. Every minute I spent with her was another reminder of why I’d never forgotten her, why I saw her face in every woman, and why no other woman had ever measured up.

But the stubborn woman refused to see it.

All right, so we’ll play this a different way.

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