“Lavender, please.”
“No. There can’t be any love, not real love, not without trust.”
I get as far as the staircase when he strikes like a snake, yanking me back.
“Trust, you say. That’s what the money was meant to be, and that's why it went into your account today. I didn’t want to be another man holding money over your head. I wanted to give you choices. I wanted you to feel like my equal when the opposite is true.”
“Ha!”
“When you’re worth so much more than I will ever be.”
“Let me go,” I grate out. “This is over. I can’t even look at you.” I pull, and he releases. I get to the door, but I don’t look back. “I’ll transfer the money back to your account tomorrow.”
“You’ll keep the money,” he growls, his movements once more animated.
“Fuck you!” I shout. “I want nothing from you.”
“You will keep the money or so help me—”
“Fine!” I bark, my feet thumping on the stairs. “I’ll go on a massive bender!”
“If you want to behave like a child, you go ahead and do what you want.”
“Great! Thanks for the permission. I’ll remember those words when I’m being railed by a rota of expensive gigolos!”
“Lavender.” My name again, this time delivered through gritted teeth.
“Who knows, maybe being screwed by whores might make me feel a little less like one myself.”
At the bottom of the stairs, I find myself in his arms again. No, not his arms, his hands, as he pins me against the wall.
“You’renota whore.”
“I fucked you for money. Sounds like the dictionary definition to me.” My anger makes my mouth work faster than my brain.
“Say it again, and you’ll regret it.”
“You made me a whore.” I wince as his fist connects with the wall by my head, his knuckles coming off worse against the solid brick. Not that he pauses to examine them as his hand cups my face.
“Stop.” His thumb and fingers tighten. I jerk my chin higher but no dice.
The cokehead lawyer’s words float into my head.“Makes me wonder what kind of magical pussy five million gets you.”
“I hope you feel like you got your money’s worth.”
His mouth crashes against mine. His hand tightens, holding me in place as his lips steal and his tongue plunders.
“I hate you,” I lie, as his mouth slides across my jaw, my neck, the stubble on his cheek a sweet, sweet abrasion.
“I’ll take your hate.”
He groans as my fingers knot in his hair, holding him to me, encouraging the scrape of his teeth.
“You deserve it. I should’ve stuck with Tod.”
“Don’t,” he groans, his fingers pulling my nipple taut.
“It’s true.”
