Page 40 of Resist

“What?”

“When we discussed the services I wanted, you promised that I would have one woman, Vaughn. And only one. You stepped into that role, and now it’s your job to stay there.” His ghost of a smile is smug.

“That’s such a bullshit answer.”

“It might be bullshit, but we have a contract, remember?” He takes a step toward me. “I’m just collecting on what was promised.”

I stare at him doe eyed and blinking, his presence confusing me so much that my need to get back to work has fallen by the wayside. “I don’t understand you.”

“Don’t try. I’m a lot to understand.”

“But after what happened—why would—how could—”

“I’ll save you the trouble and just lay it out for you. You’re going to be mine.”

“Excuse me?” Every feminist bone in my body bucks at his claim.

“We have a contract, remember?” There’s a chill in his tone, a threat that he’s not often crossed, and hell if I don’t want to cross everything about him off right now. “And you want me just as much as I want you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, Vaughn.”

“I’m not.”

“I want you.” Plain. Simple. No hesitation.

“How’s it feel to want?”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m not a man who works well with restraint.”

“Sounds like something you need to work on.”

We stand here, inches apart, with bodies vibrating from the tension—sexual, frustrated, stubborn—neither wanting to back down.

But I do. I have to. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Eight thousand a night.”

It takes my mind a second to catch up with what he’s just said. Is he crazy? “No.”

“Nine thousand.”

“Must be nice to have money you can throw around.”

“It is. Ten thousand dollars, Vaughn. I’m sure that’s more than you make working here in a few months.”

I grit my teeth and want to wipe everything about the moment from my mind. Everything upstairs. Everything with Ryker—before and now. The fact that my dignity and pride is warring against the mountain of medical bills sitting on my desk at home that $10,000 could put a considerable dent in.

But it’s still sex for money. It’s still me having to provide it. It’s still whatever the hell the memory is inside me threatening to sabotage any chance at it.

“No amount of money is worth my dignity,” I grit out between clenched teeth as his body brushes ever so softly against mine.

He leans in, lips near my ear, and murmurs, “Everything has a price, Vaughn.”

“Contract’s null and void.” My voice is strong but barely a whisper as he reaches out and runs the back of his hand down the side of my cheek.

My breath stutters. My heart does too, and my heart doesn’t stutter. Ever.