“No, you did. All of you did.”
He strokes my hair. “You’re a bad girl.”
“I have to be.” I lick my lips again, the room spinning. I close my eyes. “I need to. Bad men all around.”
* * *
Rachel
I fell asleep in a mansion. I wake in a concrete-walled studio apartment.
The king-sized bed is luxurious, but the rest is Spartan to say the least. Next to me, Sasha is awake and reading from an iPad. He sets it aside when I sit up. I slip from the bed and go to the bathroom. I’m wearing one of his shirts again and nothing else. My face is bare of makeup. When I finish and wash my hands and face, I try to remember the night before. It’s blurry from the G&Ts.
I step out of the bathroom and the bare floor’s cold. He needs a rug. And a decorator. And a house.
He leans against the headboard, big, muscular, mouthwateringly strong.
“Did we do anything last night?”
He shakes his head.
I pull the bench seat out from the lip of the granite counter that I guess acts as a breakfast bar. There is no kitchen table.
“Come back to the bed,” he says. “We’re gonna talk about yesterday.”
My gaze drop to his hands. The time in the cabin was surreal, but I haven’t forgotten that when I didn’t do what he wanted, he spanked me. My core hums at the memory, even as my mind rebels.
“I can talk from here.”
He gets out of bed, and I see he’s wearing black boxer-briefs. I guess it’s a relief, but there’s a part of me that wants to see him naked again.
* * *
Anvil
Maybe she’s afraid of getting near me where a mattress is involved. That doesn’t sit well, but I’ll deal with it later.
“I’m sorry things got dangerous for you yesterday,” she says. “Frank doesn’t like to lose, and he thinks I belong to him. You don’t need to confront him over me. It’s a bad idea.”
I enjoy that she’s like this. No one worries about me. For good reason. I’m a destroyer, with the scars to prove it. And yet, here she goes again, trying to pull me out of harm’s way.
“Fuck Frank,” I say coolly. “He’s the one who made the mistake, not me.”
“Winding him up is dangerous.”
“Not for you it isn’t. Anyone who tries to get rough with you will pay the price.”
“Sasha,” she says with a small smile. “You’re rough with me.”
I pull the bench farther out and straddle it facing her. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but I know there might be a lot more she needs to say on the subject. I tighten my muscles, bracing myself for the answer to my next question. “Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head.
I don’t let myself feel relieved. I glance at her slim thigh and remember the way I pushed it to the side, so I could take her virginity. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t enjoyed pinning her down and fucking her, and knowing my cock was the first one inside her, feeling how tight she was around me. But I don’t want her to be afraid of me. She used to be the only woman who wasn’t. My size, my reputation, the kink I like, it’s intimidating.
“I’ll be more careful from now on,” I say.
She raises a skeptical brow. “You’re not soft. Are you going to pretend you are? And what would I do? Pretend I like that?”
