“No, Hannah,” he says quietly, walking over to kneel at my chair. “You’ll be with me every day until I’ve had my fill of you.”
Wait, what? Like I’m a bottomless Coke or something? He’ll drink till he’s full and then throw me away? Hell no.
“Mr Lucas—”
“You can’t argue here, Hannah. I hold all the cards. I tried to be nice about this and explain—”
“What, exactly?” I interrupt, trying to stand. “What did you want to explain? How about why you felt it necessary to treat me like a call girl? Why you slept with me in the first place? Because from where I’m standing—”
“I behaved poorly—”
“Ya think? Look, Gregory, just forget about it. Place me with another exec and do your thing with the company; I’ll do mine. This thing…whatever it was, is over.”
I am trapped in the chair and so conscious of his hand on my thigh. The sad truth of it is that no matter how disgusted I am by his behavior, my body is front and center, replaying the things he can make me feel.
Control, Hannah.
“I can’t do that. I want you,” he admits, and I see he likes that thought about as much as I do.
“You have a fiancée,” I say between gritted teeth. “We should never have slept together in the first place. You’re a cheat, Gregory Lucas, and you’ve made me one by extension. I don’t want this, or you, or anything to do with you,” I hiss, pushing with enough force that I’m able to gain my feet and back towards the door.
“Hannah—”
“Shove your job. I’ll get another one.”
There. I feel better already. Taking control back is a small victory because I know it’s costing me a job I can’t afford to lose, and that by this time next week I’ll probably be working a checkout counter if I’m lucky, but as I say the words I feel the familiar calm I’ve been searching for settle over me.
“You can’t do that. You have too much invested here to just walk out,” he insists in a low growl.
I can see he’s upset, that losing the advantage is not common practice and that he’s struggling to come back from my about face.
“I can. I can do whatever I goddamned want. I win,” I say, smiling icily as I reach for the door.
“Do you? What do you think your sister will say when I close the doors to Sweet Nothings?”
The question stops me in my tracks, and I turn slowly, knowing I’ve just lost the battle. Hell, it has been a losing cause since the beginning. Why I’d thought Gregory would play fair I can’t say. What I can’t figure is why he’s doing this at all.
“What?”
“I invested in her bakery. She’s doing a piss poor job of managing it, and I stepped in—”
“Why? Why are you doing this? Friday night told me loud and clear how much you don’t want me. I’m giving you an easy out, considering you’re engaged to another woman. Let me go.”
I taste bile as the words pass my lips and swallow back a stream of curses and recriminations. I am floundering here, trying to understand what the hell is going on, and no matter how hard I try I can’t get a handle on it. Or myself.
“Hannah.”
“No! You’re just being a sore loser! Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I yell, not caring if anyone hears.
He’s standing there, threatening me, blackmailing me to sleep with him again until he finally loses interest, and unless he changes his mind I know I have no choice. I’ll hate myself the entire time, and any liking for him that may still linger will turn into something I promised myself three years ago I would never feel again.
I don’t want to hate him.
Everything around me has become chaos, and instead of finding order I feel as if I’m sinking into quicksand.
“Please, Gregory.”
He closes his eyes for a second before opening them to pin me with a glare.
“The condom broke.”
Chapter Fourteen
I do not react in any outward way. At least, not then, and most definitely not in Gregory’s presence. To be honest, when he’d said the words I’d pretty much just stood there, frozen and speechless as they sank in and marinated my brain.
These things happen. I have to keep reminding myself of it four days later as I sit at my desk, arranging meetings and a whole host of things for Gregory.
Yeah, don’t even judge me. I have no choice but to do what he wants. I consider myself lucky that he’d allowed me to just walk out and go back to my desk without pressuring me immediately.
Hell, it’s been four days of constant meetings, and car rides to those meetings, and…we’ve been together a lot. I think he’s giving me time not to have a nervous breakdown before he puts the screws to me.