He looks sinful and gorgeous and absolutely impossible to manage.
I want to argue.
I want to yell.
I want to demand his brain be medically scanned.
Instead…I let the moment pass.
Because fighting him is like trying to fight a hurricane. And because a part of me, a traitorous, needy, reckless part, likes how far he goes for me.
Likes how wild he gets.
Loves how wanted I feel.
I collapse on top of him with my face pressed to his chest and my breath shaking out of me.
He wraps me tight, a fortress made of muscle and obsession.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs.
I could argue that he’s said that too,repeatedly.
But at this point, what’s the fucking point of wasting my breath?
20
HOME, HEAT, AND HOLDING ON
ZANE
Los Angeles looks different when I’m bringing Ruby home. Not home in the metaphorical way she thinks I mean. I meanmyhome.
My house and my walls and my space.
My bed and my fucking rules.
I carry her bags in myself because I don’t want anyone else touching her things. She trails behind me, half-protesting and half-pretending she still isn’t impressed by the three-story glass-and-stone place I bought before Riot Saints had a platinum record. But I see her eyes flicker toward the bedroom where I first fucked her.
Where I fell ass over asshole for her tight pussy.
Where I fell for her, period.
“We agreed, remember?” I tell her when she tries to backtrack, to coax me into returning her to the shoebox apartment she called home before she met me.
Like fuck that’s happening.
I drop her bags in the foyer. “It’s part of your contract.”
She folds her arms, defensive and adorable, like she’s bracing for war but also melting at the same time. “It said‘accommodation provided,’ not ‘I get held hostage in a rockstar mansion.’”
“Baby.” I cup her jaw gently. “If I wanted to hold you hostage, I wouldn’t need a mansion.”
Her cheeks flush a shade I’ve come to crave, and she mutters something Ruby-snarky under her breath about me being “one psychiatric evaluation away from the Discovery Channel.”
I should be offended.
Instead, I’m hard, and really I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been hard for weeks. Harder than I’ve ever been for any woman before her.
