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Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head dismissively. “Go away Carson. I think we can both agree the sex was great, but we need to stay away from each other, I need to stay away from all of you,” she says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching for the TV remote.
“Time’s up,” I say, fighting back a smirk. She thinks she can send me packing with a bitchy look, she’s got no fucking clue how wrong she is.
“Bye Carson,” she says, wiggling her fingers at me in a fuck you wave.
A soft laugh falls from my lips as I close the distance between us in a single stride, grab her around the waist, and haul her into the air and over my shoulder.
“Put me down,” she screams, beating her fists against my back.
“I gave you a choice Priss, it’s not my fault you picked the wrong option. You better hope there’s not too many people in reception, because I’m pretty sure you can see your ass out the bottom of this robe,” I laugh, ignoring her protests as I grab her cell and room key, open the door, and carry her out.
Shrieking, she writhes around trying to break free of my hold, but I just laugh and hold her a little tighter. “I gave you a choice Priss.”
“Where are you taking me? Put me down Carson, I hate you so much.”
“You don’t hate me and I don’t hate you,” I say. Muttering, “That’s the fucking problem,” beneath my breath.
“Put me down and I’ll go and get dressed,” she begs.
“It’s too late to do as you’re told now baby. I asked you do something and you didn’t. I’m a man of my word Priss. Haven’t I always done what I told you I would?”
“Carson,” she cajoles, using the voice I’ve heard her use on guys before.
“Don’t try that bullshit with me Carrigan. I’m not one of those spineless fuckers that will let you do as you please while they wait around begging for scraps, not giving a fuck about anything except the money. I’ve had you. I’ve fucking got you, no money, no power, nothing.”
“Shut up,” she hisses, her voice wavering a little.
Stopping, I lower her to the floor, keeping my arm tightly wrapped around her. “No, you listen. I had you knowing that you didn’t come with the extras. Because I couldn’t give a fuck about that inheritance.”
Slamming my lips against hers, I kiss her with every bit of frustration I can’t explain, filling her mouth with my tongue, branding her lips with mine. When her body melts against me I pull away, cupping her cheek and locking my gaze with hers. “I’m not a man you can play with Priss and I promise not to play with you either. All I expect is for you to be you, this you. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, I just know I’m not ready stop.
Picking her up I throw her back over my shoulder again and this time she doesn’t fight me. No one says a word as I carry her through the lobby in nothing but a hotel robe. I swear the guy behind the reception desk even smirks as I pass, striding confidently outside and to the valet desk. A few minutes later my car appears and I lower her into the passenger seat before climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Where are we going?” she asks, the bitchiness gone from her voice.
“To get you some clothes,” I answer, pulling my cell from my pocket and dialing the familiar number, before lifting it to my ear. “Hey,” I say when the call connects. “I need a favor.” I listen for a moment. “I need a new wardrobe.” I can hear Priss’s indignant huff but I ignore her. “Size two, okay, see you soon. Thanks bye.”
“Who was that?” she demands, turning in her seat to look at me.
“A friend,” I say, quickly snapping a picture of her, smiling at her annoyed expression before I ease away from the hotel and into the evening traffic.
“Carson,” she whines, when I ignore her and focus on driving.
“Carrigan,” I say back, smiling widely.
“Why do you say my name like you’re using it as an insult?” she asks.
“Because I prefer Priss,” I say simply.
“I don’t understand.”
“When you’re acting like you think Carrigan Archibald ought to act, I call you Carrigan. When you’re acting like the girl who gave me her virginity, the one I want to be around, the one I can’t keep away from, I call you Priss.”
I expect a bitchy response, but instead she stays quiet, not speaking until we pull into the parking lot at the marina.
“I thought we were getting clothes?” she asks.
“We are, after we eat,” I tell her, pulling into my usual space and killing the engine. By the time I climb out she already has her door open, eyeing the gravel parking lot warily. “Come here,” I say, loving that she doesn’t try to fight me as I scoop her into my arms and lift her from the car, closing the door, and then carrying her up onto the deck of The Escape.
