Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Jerk.
“I don’t want to argue with you right now,” he says. “So keep your mouth closed.”
“No,” I counter, just to be quarrelsome, because who the hell does he think he is?
Narrowed, beautiful eyes meet mine when he responds. “No?”
“That’s right, rich guy,” I say. “Just because you can throw your money around and buy gilded fucking toilet paper to wipe your arrogant ass, doesn’t mean you can cart me around and tell me what to do like you’re a fucking god.”
“That mouth of yours—”
“You mean the one you wanted wrapped around your cock?”
It gives me a little thrill to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, though he otherwise maintains perfect composure.
“You are so lucky you’re not mine, little girl.”
“Oh?” I counter. “The age-old threat. Is intimidation really your only play? I’m disappointed.”
“I don’t give threats, Cora.” There’s something about the cold, determined way he says this that makes me squirm a little, but I hide it. I don’t want him to know that I remember the way it felt to have my wrists pinned helplessly behind my back while his palm spanked against the fullest part of my ass. “And hell yes, I intimidate.” He smirks. “And if I recall correctly, you were pretty into the whole intimidation thing earlier.”
“Fuck you,” I say, oh-so-eloquently.
The dangerous down-turn of his lips is his only reaction. “Do you always mouth off to people who save your ass?” he asks. “How pleasant.”
“Save my ass?” I repeat. “More like, stalk my ass. How did you know where I was?”
“I followed you.”
I gawk at him in surprise for a minute. “You’re not even going to pretend you were doing something normal?”
Shrugging a shoulder, he shakes his head. “I have nothing to hide. I dommed you. You ran. I followed to make sure you wouldn’t do something stupid.” Rolling his eyes heavenward, he sighs. “Which, of course, you did.”
“You, sir, are an asshole,” I say through gritted teeth.
“And you, young lady, are a brat,” he counters, crossing his ankle on his knee and shooting me a withering look. “It’s no wonder you made your way to Verge. Like somehow, intuitively, you knew how very badly you need to be dommed. How much you crave the release of a scene.” His voice lowers, and he takes an accusatory tone. “How badly you need someone to protect you.”
I sputter and fume, so angry I can barely form a sentence, but he doesn’t stop. “And no, I won’t deny that I’m an asshole.” Looking away, he yawns. “Makes things easier.”
“Impressive.”
A silent beat passes and neither of us speaks, but after a moment his voice softens.. “Look at me, please.”
I’m still furious at the audacity of this man.
“Do you just tell everyone what to do all the time?”
“Yes.”
I don’t know what to think of him. Even though he hid who he was tonight, something about him is refreshingly honest, if arrogant. When I look at him, he reaches his hand to me. I flinch when he takes my chin between his fingers and tips my head so the light glints against my upturned face. I want to pry myself away from him, and I hate that I can’t, but I’m somehow trapped here. Somehow completely held in his power, though the only touch he has is a gentle one on my chin.
“The asshole split your lip,” he growls. To my surprise, he runs his thumb so lightly over the tender spot, it feels almost gentle. “You need to ice that. And put antibiotic cream on this cut.” A tender trace of his finger to my neck where the blade nicked me. His voice drops to a reverent, furious whisper. “And I need to track his ass down and make him pay for this.”
I swallow, trying to get my nerves together. I can’t wrap my brain around what he says and why. The night’s overwhelming me with highs and lows, and I blame my confusion on my shaky nerves. No one takes care of me but me. And this man can’t stand me. Why does he look like he wants to pull me to him and nurse my wounds himself? Why does his voice vibrate with anger when he talks about avenging me?
I finally speak my questions.
“Why?” I whisper.
“Why what?” he whispers back, and for one brief moment I see a glimpse of the man behind the cavalier mask he wears.
“Why do you care?” I need to know.
“Because real men don’t hurt women. And anyone who harms someone like you is a fucking coward. I’d like to see him pull that on me.”
Hell, I want to see that, too. But I’m not going to fall for his antics, and he’s no saint.
“You spanked me,” I say, a feeble protest even to my own ears. “And something tells me you’d do more than that if I let you.”