She’s still sobbing, sniffling, making these little mewling noises that are driving me fucking crazy.
“Shut up!” I scream at her, making her jump and cry harder.
Her in that dress, her hair hanging in her face.
The scared, innocent little virgin.
“You have to get out of here.”
“Can’t you just at least kiss me?” she begs. “I’ve never even been kissed, and I’m almost thirty. I’m a loser. Colette is right.” She lets out a sob. “Just tell me you really don’t think I’m pretty.”
I stare at her. The way the lace cups the curve of her tits. The way I can see the pink of her nipples through the fabric. The way the layers of lace on the skirt brush the tops of her curvy thighs.
“I… you’re…”
My dad would “marry” the girl he kidnapped, have a little ceremony and everything with them in a white dress. And at the end he’d make them kiss him like they were in a real relationship. Stuart made them pretend they liked him.
Or else.
I don’t kiss people on the mouth.
I’m not kissing her on the mouth.
Especially not when she’s drunk and is upset that I’m not attracted to her.
The way every fiber of her is yearning for me, yearning for my affection, wanting me to make her whole with my words… and my dick.
“You don’t know the filthy, perverted shit I want to do to you,” I whisper.
Her chin snaps up.
Her mouth makes that red O, and her eyes go wide in the dark.
“You want to… what?”
“Just leave.” I wrench the front door open. “Out, Dani.”
“My granny will never let me hear the end of it if I go back home now. They’ll know I failed,” Dani begs me. “Also, my parents are probably back now, and I can’t do the walk of shame. It was a military operation to get me out of the building. Just let me stay here. Just for the night. I’ll stay in my suite. You won’t even see me.”
I shouldn’t.
Shouldn’t keep her in my house. It’s too dangerous. I don’t trust myself around her.
She might just go to Kraig if you let her walk out of here.
Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.
I don’t want my stepbrother’s hands on her.
Then you’ll have to take her virginity, I tell myself as I watch her slowly climb up the stairs.Better you than Kraig.
I will not give into the temptation.
I’m not touching her.
“I’m not going anywhere near her,” I whisper to myself when I’m back in my study, the door heavy and solid between me and the rest of the penthouse.
My leather chair is cold when I sit in it and swing around to overlook the city, cold and snowy on the other side of the glass.
