I don’t understand what is going on. I don’t know what hold this man has over me, but I don’t know how I can accept him.
I want to, the darkest parts of me want to, but it’s unreasonable, unrealistic, and dangerous. My lips still tingle from the kiss, and the image of him naked plays rent-free in my mind, which it shouldn’t, but with a body like that, I don’t know how to stop the images from assaulting me.
He is gorgeous from the neck down.
We’re in the car now after an awkward morning. He had clothes in his closet that would fit me with tags, never worn, and I didn’t ask how he knew my size or how they were there because I had a feeling the answer wouldn’t be something I wanted to hear.
I rub my hand over my eyes because maybe I would want to hear it. Isn’t that insane? I shouldn’t like this. I shouldn’t like how crazy this man is, but I do.
I really do, and as much as I fear his insanity, I want more of it.
What’s that say about me?
If I can just get out of here and away from this guy, I’ll be able to have a clear thought.
His hand slides into mine, and I jerk away, but he holds on tight, not giving me the option to have my own space.
“Did your brother give you my bags by any chance? My phone?”
“No,” he says simply.
“It’s not like you’d let me have it, right? You say I’m not a prisoner, yet I’m not allowed to leave or call home.”
“You need to give me a chance. Give me a chance, and I’ll give you your freedom, Mable.” The car pulls into an empty parking lot outside of a Victorian house. The siding is painted black, the door is red, and the windows aren’t open. The shutters are metal, covering the glass so no one can look inside.
“Where are we?”
“I need to speak with a friend, and then you and I will need to have a conversation.”
He’s so vague. What’s that even mean?
He climbs out of the car and gently shuts the door to this Porsche. He holds his hand in the middle of his blazer as he comes around the hood of the silver sports car, opening my door for me as if he were a gentleman.
If my memory serves correctly, this morning, while he had me pinned against the wall, he only has gentlemanly tendencies.
He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, ready to attack and pounce as the predator he is.
Dri holds out his hand for me to take to help me out of the car, and while the sardonic part of me wants to take it, I don’t. It would be another way he has a hold on me. Slipping my hand into his is like promising myself to a monster.
I stare at his outstretched hand, waiting for his nails to morph into talons so he can sink them into my flesh and never let me go.
I get out of the car myself and hold my chin high, slamming the door behind me for good measure. I won’t let him control me, even if the sound of it becomes more appealing every second I’m with him.
“I like your strength, Sweetness, I do. I crave it. I’ve been starved for it for a very long time, and I adore it when you challenge me to show you don’t need me. I know you don’t need me.” He crowds me against the car, that wicked hand pushing against my hip to keep me locked in place. “You’re the kind of woman who doesn’t need a soul, and I find that quality about you enticing, but humor me, Mable. Let me take care of you.”
“Why?” I swallow, tilting my head back as he bends down, skimming his lips across my throat. “Why should I?”
He drags his lips across the pulsating vein in my neck, and I shut my eyes, trying not to react to the small touch, but my entire body is on fire for him. The familiarity is killing me, and I wish I knew why.
“Because Mable. While you do not need me and are strong enough to be in this world on your own, I can’t say the same about myself. I need you. I’m not strong enough to be in this world where I’m not near you again, so let me take care of you because, in return, it takes care of me.” He kisses my jawline until he is at my lips, then, with his thumb, tilts my chin down by placing the pad of his finger on my mouth. “And I know you don’t care about taking care of me right now, but if you’ll allow me, my priority will always be you.”
His lips skim across mine, and I part them, my body responding to him by seeking his kiss.
I’m a weak woman.
He says I’m strong, but nothing about me solidifies when he’s near me. I actually melt when his hands are on me, his mouth is on mine, the way he speaks to me, and the way he is obsessed with me for some reason.
I crave it just like he craves me.
I can’t give into the dark, or I’ll never be able to go home. I don’t belong here. I’ve found myself in a bad situation, and I’m doing what I can to make sure I can leave.
What happens when I don’t want to leave? My inner voice echoes in the back of my mind.
That can’t happen. No matter how great Dri seems, loving him is out of the question, and I don’t think love will ever be enough to make me stay. Not that love is an option here, but it wouldn’t be enough if it were.
His lips form to mine, and every caution gets thrown to the wind, and I forget everything I’ve been thinking about as he takes over me.
“Well, well, well,” a sweet voice purrs from the left of us. “Here, I thought we were getting married, Adrian. How are you going to go and kiss another woman in front of me and not even introduce me, baby?”
I shove Dri away and wipe his kiss off my mouth. “You’re engaged!” I raise my hand to slap him again, but he catches my wrist in midair.
“No. Yes, but not in the way that you think, Sweetness.”
“Sweetness? More like a tigress. No?” The woman laughs at her joke, gracefully coming down the steps in a satin nightgown and a robe with a long train with a fluffy hem. She looks regal, elegant, and powerful.
“And why do you care?” he lifts a brow at me. “I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me?”
“I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m only here because I’m forced to be here, and your brother kidnapped me.”
“Oh?” The woman asks, her red lip gloss shining in the morning sun. “Is that where Otello was? Fetching the object of your desires?”
“Yes,” he answers, tugging me against his chest.
I struggle against him. “Let me go. Let me go! I want nothing to do with you. You’re disgusting. I want to go home.”
“You are home!” he yells, silencing me, but the mad, desperate look in his eyes, the one that screams fear, has me breaking.
My eyes water, and I shake my head, letting the tears fall. “Why am I here when you have her?”
“I’m here to break off the engagement made the day before you arrived, Mable. If I had known you were literally falling into my lap, I wouldn’t have asked Daphne.”
“Which was more like a business transaction,” she explains.
I don’t know why, but that makes me feel better. Not that I care, because I don’t.
I’ll never admit out loud that I’m jealous.
“I have to marry someone since I’m the head of the family business now,” he explains.
I think about when Otello carried me through the house and explained that his brother was having a party.
“It’s part of the rules. I didn’t want to marry anyone because I only wanted one, and I couldn’t have you, Mable. You were on the other side of the world and—”
He stops speaking, but he looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.
“Daphne is my friend. She doesn’t want to marry me either, but we agreed it would only be on paper. We would both still do what we wanted with no physical connection, sharing bedrooms, or anything like that.”
“Business,” I repeat as things start clicking into place.
“Yes, sugar, business,” Daphne purrs as she comes down one more step. “Dri isn’t my type. Not in the slightest. I like to be in control. I’m glad you’re here. It means I don’t have to go through with it. Is that why you’re here? Or are you wanting a room?” She bites her lip as she stares at me.
“A room?” I blink at Dri, confused.
“She runs a BDSM club. No, we won’t be needing a room.” He opens the car door for me, and I hurry inside, wanting to get away from the situation.
A laugh bubbles up my throat, and I can’t help but let it free. I had so many goals when I went to Greece. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone, but the universe had a way of throwing me out of it.
I wanted to meet new people.
Check.
I wanted to see new sights.
Check.
I wanted to meet a man and lose my virginity.
I think that could be a check.
I look out the window and see him talking with Daphne, his hands moving as he speaks, but they don’t move in a hurried gesture. Everything is slow, deliberate, calm, and refined. He speaks with purpose, and Daphne smiles, tossing her gorgeous head back and laughing at something he says.
He isn’t funny. At least he hasn’t said anything to make me laugh. He’s either enticing fear or lust inside me, but I have never once laughed.
Dri kisses her on the cheek, takes her hand, brings it to his mouth, and kisses her knuckles. His eyes cut to mine through the window, and I look away, not wanting him to see how jealous I am.
She should marry him, and then maybe I could go home.
But as I press my finger on the button to roll down the window, scream, beg, and try to convince her to marry him anyway, I realize I like his brown eyes on mine a little too much.
And I don’t want her to have his attention.
He comes around the car again and opens the driver’s side door, sliding into the smooth buttery leather of the seat.
“You seemed cozy with her. You should marry her.”
“I don’t want to marry her. I’ll be marrying you.”
I turn my head and laugh so loud I have to hold my stomach. Tears form in my eyes, but this time for humor. I watch his face for any telling to say he is joking. If anything, his jaw tenses with annoyance.
My laughter slows, and I wipe my under-eyes. “You have to be kidding,” I say. “I’m not marrying you. I’m not wife material. I will be bitter toward you. I will be…unforgiving. I don’t want to be your wife.”
“You’re going to be,” he says. “And maybe you’ll be bitter at first, but not forever. You’ll love me because you’ll learn how much I love you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I whisper in shock.
“I know more about you than you know, Mable. Tomorrow, you will marry me. You’ll be my wife.”
“I won’t say I do.”
“You will if you ever want to go home again.”
I scoot across my seat until my hip touches the door, not wanting to have anything to do with him. “Is that how it’s going to be? You’re going to make me do whatever you want, so I have hope that I’ll go home, but am I really? Am I ever going to go home?”
“I guess you’ll have to marry me and find out.” The tires spin out as he speeds out of the parking lot, and I press my head against the window, my heart slamming wildly against my chest, panic and anxiety gripping me tight. “I won’t be bad to you, Mable. Give me that chance,” he whispers. “I’ve been waiting years for it.”
I don’t say anything, but what is there left to say? Nothing I say to him will give me my freedom. “It’s not my responsibility to give you what you want because you’ve been waiting for it. You won’t tell me how I know you, yet, you expect me to act as if I do. That isn’t how the world works.”
“You know me, Sweetness. That’s all you need to know.”
I cross my arms over my chest, wanting to argue with him more, but nothing I say will get me anywhere again. Instead, I turn on the radio as we come to a stop at a red light, and Dri takes my hand, kissing the top of it, but he lingers, pressing his cheek against my palm next.
It’s more intimate than how he kissed Daphne.
When he lifts his eyes, the dark hues promise to give me everything, and it’s hard not to allow myself to fall into the unknown pools.
His gaze drifts from me, and he rolls his lips together, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “When I tell you to duck, you lower yourself as much as you can, okay?”
“Adrian, what are you talking about?” I whisper.
“Do as I say. That’s all you need to know. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” I scoff. “You kidnapped me.”
“My brother did. I only want to love you. There’s no crime in that, so do as I say. Do you understand me?” The car begins to move again, and I swallow, nodding in agreement. “Good, Sweetness. That’s good,” he croons as if I’m a child needing to be babied. His eyes stay locked on the road, and his right-hand flexes as he grips the steering wheel. The veins in his hands pop, and his knuckles turn white. His left hand disappears between his seat and the door.
I might be many things, but dumb isn’t one of them. I hear the click of a gun and hold my breath. “Dri? What the hell is going on?”
“I’ll explain everything to you, but first, I need you to get down, okay?”
“Now?”
“Now!” he shouts at me, and I practically throw myself into the backseat and crawl onto the floorboard.
He fires, shattering the passenger side window.
Gunfire rings around me, and I cover my head, screaming when the car jerks to the side. Next, brakes squeal and metal crunches, but it isn’t from the car I’m in.
I sit up and look out the back window, watching the SUV roll until it’s nothing but scrap metal.
Adrian pulls the car over and reaches for me, pulling me onto his lap. His hands are everywhere, checking me for injury, and he is completely frantic.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, but he doesn’t hear me.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay? Where does it hurt, Sweetness? I’ll fix it. Show me. Show me, and I’ll take care of you.” His hands rub down my arms, then my legs. He lifts my shirt to check my stomach, then pulls me over his shoulder and checks my back.
“I’m okay. Adrian!” I pull away from him, taking his cheeks in my hands and looking him in his wild, untamed eyes. “I’m okay.” I press his hand against my chest so he can feel my heartbeat. “I’m alive. I’m here. You protected me.” I don’t know why I’m trying to calm him down when I’m the one who should be freaking out.
The haze from his eyes finally clears, and the sun drifts through the window, gleaming against the amber color of his irises. Flecks of gold glimmer with concern, and his forehead drops to my chest.
“I was so scared I lost you again.”
Again?
What does that mean?
He kisses my chest and neck and brings my head down to rob my lips. He kisses me the way he feels, desperate and afraid.
He clutches me as if I’m about to fly away, rocking me against his lap, and I gasp when I feel how hard he is under me, but he breaks the kiss before I can wonder what’s about to happen in the car.
“Protecting you is my life now. Nothing will ever happen to you, Mable.”
But he’s wrong.
He’s happened to me.
But is he the worst thing or the best thing?
Because right now, I can’t tell.
