“I’ve been through a hell of a lot in the past few days. Almost died—twice. Saw people gunned down. Got sold to a sex trafficker. Lost my understudy role…my first real shot. Lost my friends. Lost…” Her throat bobbed. “Everything.”
Fuck! I wanted to scoop her up and hold her in my arms, but she wasn’t ready for the physical contact. I’d shattered the fragile bit of trust she’d had in me, and I needed to give her space to process what she was feeling.
She pressed her lips together, then huffed out a small laugh—half humor, half grief. “And then, instead of keeping myself together like a functioning adult, I basically assaulted the one person who’s actually been protecting me.”
“You didn’t assault me.” My voice came out raspy.
She gave me a sidelong look. “You know what I mean.”
I did. But I wasn’t about to let her think she owed me any guilt.
Then she leaned in, and her expression shifted—just a degree. Her eyes locked onto mine with new intensity.
“Here’s the thing,” she said. “I’ve always told myself I’d wait for the right man. Someone who deserved me. Someone kind. Strong—emotionally strong. Someone who could…build a relationship with me that would last forever.”
She brought the glass to her lips and downed half of it in one smooth pull.
“I imagined someone fun,” she continued. “Someone who’d challenge me. Excite me. A man who could make me laugh in the daylight…and wreck me in the dark.”
The wine sloshed as she set the glass aside on the end table.
“And of course…I imagined a man who knew what the hell he was doing in bed. A man who wouldn’t be afraid of intensity. Who I would want to explore everything with. Even the things that scare people…you know, the things you have totrustsomeone to try.”
Her tone had shifted—so subtly most men wouldn’t have caught it. But I did. She wanted something.
Then it hit me; she was using reverse psychology. She’d quickly figured out that coming at me with fire only riled me up, made me push back. This girl was a smart little minx.
She was baiting me, and I was intrigued to see where this would go.
“And trust?” she said. “Yeah…that kind of trust is not easy to find.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You, on the other hand,” she continued, “have had no problem digging through every part of my life. My records. My routines. My friends. You even watched me in my own apartment.” She gave me a crooked smile. “A bit over the top, don’t you think? I think you’re more than casually interested. Obsessive, maybe?”
I smirked. “Maybe.”
She tilted her head. “No comment on the spying?”
I took a slow sip of my vodka and let the silence stretch.
Finally I said, “If I’m going to protect someone, I don’t do it half-assed. I do a full background check. I learn their patterns. Their vulnerabilities. Their threats. Their tells.”
“Sounds more like you were preparing to own me rather than just protect me.”
My mouth twitched. “Can’t do one without the other.”
That shut her up for a second.
Then she changed her approach, growing bolder.
“I need someone who can be an amazing lover,” she said, more confident now. “Someone who understands how my body works. Someone who can push my limits when I need them to—and make me…submit even when I don’t want to. A man who doesn’t flinch when things get intense. A man who doesn’t run away.”
She looked me dead in the eye. “You acted like I was some innocent little flower, and maybe I was. But that doesn’t mean I didn’tchooseyou.”
I stared at her, running my thumb across my lower lip.
“You don’t get to decide to limit me,” she said. “That’s arrogant.”
