Till I realize what he’s just called me. Property? Did he just say property?
“Run that by me one last time,” I say in a voice so brittle I see his eyes stretch the tiniest bit. “Did you just call me your property?”
His eyes go hard, and I realize whatever advantage I thought I had is so not on the cards. I’m pissed, but he’s…volcanic.
“He had his fucking hands a hair’s breadth away from your—”
“He’s gay!”
“No. He. Isn’t.”
Oh God, then I shouldn’t tell him I’d dropped my bikini right there and revealed everything in God’s glory as I’d inelegantly hoisted myself up onto the table.
I cringe slightly and promise never, ever to mention that unless I don’t want to sit for a week.
“Uh…”
“Why did that man have his hands all over you?” he asks, stalking closer.
I’m a little wiser nowadays, so I take a step back, clutching the towel closer to my chest.
“I was getting a massage?” I ask in a small voice.
He stalks closer, eyeing my towel with a glare that strips the flesh from my bones.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asks silkily, coming closer as I retreat, his face so hard I swallow.
“Um, yes?”
Well I’m already in deep shit, so what’s the use of lying at this point? Anyway, I rather suspect he heard me calling the not-so-gay masseuse hot stuff. My goose is already cooked.
His eyes burn brighter, and I see his eyes tic as his muscles coil. Oh crap. I lunge left and make a break for the bedroom, intending to hide out in the bathroom till he cools down.
I’m in front of the bed and diving for the bathroom door when I feel a freight train hit me from behind, sending me sprawling face down into the mattress with Goliath resting on my back.
“Tell me again how much you liked it,” he snarls, pushing me down and pulling my hands up to lock above my head.
“Hmmm fohee,” I mumble, gasping into the sheets.
He levers up enough that I can turn my head and gulp in a breath, his hot breath fanning the skin at my cheek.
“Again.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know he wasn’t gay! No straight guy has that much style. He was wearing a scarf!”
His body tenses above mine, and I scream as he rips the towel from me and settles back over me, grinding himself into my butt. He’s angry and aroused, and I have no doubt he’s about to show me exactly why he calls me his property.
Yay!
“You want a man’s hands all over your skin, you come to me,” he growls, clamping one hand around my wrists to free up a hand. That hand skates down my back and wiggles between our bodies, coming to rest at exactly the spot the masseuse had been rubbing earlier.
Strange how I hadn’t felt the proximity before, but now that it’s his hand I feel my core clench, moistening for him, begging him to shift up just an inch closer.
I grit my teeth, unwilling to cede this round just to get his hands on my sex. Sure I want him. Sure I’m desperate for all the passion I feel simmering off him, but I want more than sex and ownership. I want him, loving me back, and the only way I’ll get it is if I push him to the point of no control.
“I wouldn’t want to disturb your precious schedule. Let me up, and I’ll go sit in the corner like a good little asset until you’re ready for me,” I say sweetly, taunting him by shoving my butt up and wiggling out from under him as much as I can.
I get exactly one leg free before he’s back on me, his mouth so close to my ear.
“You’re feeling neglected, darlin’?” he purrs.
His tongue flicks at my earlobe, and he gently bites down on it, sending shivers through me.
“Greg, please.”
The hand on my thigh shifts up, and I feel him between my legs, his fingers delving, rubbing at my clit.
“Who do you belong to?” he purrs, rubbing at me till I’m on the edge before stopping to demand again. “Who do you belong to, Hannah?”
“You,” I gasp, trying to push closer, needing that touch, the closeness I feel when he’s like this, even though I can still feel his anger.
“Louder, darlin’,” he growls, sliding his hand lower to thrust a finger deep into my core.
“You. I belong to you, only you.”
He gives me what I want as soon as the words leave my lips, and I am crying out in ecstasy even as he lowers his pants.
“Never forget. You are mine.”
“And you are mine,” I whisper as he thrusts into me and wraps himself around me.
Chapter Thirty Two
“You look awesome.”
“Thanks. I feel awesome.”
Lena and Chris have kidnapped me for a full on dish session, and invaded the Garden City house the minute we got home, and my devoted husband left for the office.