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“Put me down, and I’ll go and get dressed,” she begs.
“It’s too late for you to backtrack and do as you’re told now. I asked you to do something, and you didn’t. I told you what would happen if you chose wrong, and I’m a man of my word. Haven’t I always done what I told you I would?”
“Hawthorn,” she cajoles, using her practiced seductive voice I’ve heard her use on guys before.
“Don’t try that bullshit with me, Penelope,” I hiss. “I’m not one of those spineless fuckers who stood by and watched while you flirted with every name on that fucking list. I don’t give a fuck about the money, I never did. I own you, Penelope. No money, no power, nothing, just you.”
“Shut up,” she hisses, her voice thick with emotion.
Stopping, I lower her to the floor, keeping my arm tightly wrapped around her. “Listen to me, Princess. When you first gave yourself to me, I took you knowing that you didn’t come with the extras. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now, because I couldn’t give a fuck about that inheritance. But don’t treat me like I’m one of those fuckers, I’m nothing like them.”
Slamming my lips against hers, I kiss her with every ounce of frustration I’ve felt since she drove away from me the morning I made her mine. Filling her mouth with my tongue, I brand her lips with mine, claiming her right out in the open for everyone to see. 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, Princess, but I promise not to play with you either. All I expect is for you to be you, and we’ll figure the rest out as we go. Don’t ask me what the hell this is, because I have no idea, I just know that I’m done trying to pretend that it’s not happening.”
Her eyes widen and her lips part like she’s going to speak, but before she has a chance, I pick her up and throw her back over my shoulder again. This time she doesn’t fight me, and 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.
“Where are we going?” she asks, the bitchiness gone from her voice when I lower her into the passenger seat in my car and fasten the seat belt around her.
“To get you some clothes,” I answer, rounding the hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. Pulling my cell from my pocket, I find the contact I need and hit dial, 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, size two. Okay, see you soon. Thanks, bye.”
“Who was that?” she demands the moment I lower the cell from my ear.
“A friend,” I say, pulling away from the hotel and into the evening traffic.
“Hawthorn,” she whines when I ignore her and focus on driving.
“Penelope,” I say back, smiling widely.
“Why do you say my name like you’re using it as an insult?” she asks.
“Because I prefer my Princess,” I tell her simply.
“I don’t understand.”
“When you’re acting like you think Penelope Rhodes ought to act, I call you Penelope. 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 Princess.”
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, reaching into the car and lifting her out. Instead of tipping her over my shoulder, I hold her in my arms, closing the car, then carrying her up onto the deck of The Escape.
I reluctantly lower her to her feet the moment we’re on the deck, and she obediently follows me inside once I unlock the door. Turning on the lights, I bypass the living space and head straight into the kitchen. Crossing to the refrigerator, I pull out a beer for myself and start to grab the ingredients for dinner. “Do you want a beer?” I ask her.
“No, thank you,” she says quietly.
Straightening, I turn to look for her and find her standing cautiously in the doorway. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she says, stepping inside, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“Why don’t you go take a shower while I cook dinner? Help yourself to a shirt, or whatever you want to wear from my closet.”
Tensing, I wait for her to argue, but instead she fidgets with the cord on her robe and bites at her lip uncomfortably. Sometimes when she’s so full of attitude and fire, I forget how fucking fragile and adrift she is right now.
Sighing, I cross to the doorway and curl my arm around her back, pulling her into me. “Princess, if you don’t want to shower, don’t. If you want to wear that robe for the rest of the night, then do it. Fuck, if you want to take it off and wander around my boat completely naked, I’m completely onboard with that too. I’m not telling you to go shower because of how you look, I just thought it might help you relax. I think you’re fucking stunning when you’re hot and sweaty beneath me. I think you’re beautiful, all mussed and sleepy. My dick has been rock-hard for you since the moment you opened that hotel door, because you don’t look like Penelope right now, you look like my Princess, and that is so fucking sexy I’m barely keeping my hands to myself,” I whisper against her lips, a moment before I kiss her, pressing my rock-hard dick against her stomach as I hold her tightly to me.
Her lips are soft and sweet against mine, tentative for a moment, until she starts to lose herself in the kiss. Sliding her hands up my chest and around my neck, she buries her fingers into my hair, pushing up onto her tiptoes so she can deepen the kiss, her tongue tangling with mine. Lifting her off the ground, I groan when her legs automatically wrap around my waist. “I want you,” I say, pausing our kiss long enough for the words to fall from my tongue.
“Yes,” she gasps, kissing me again, her fingers clinging to me.
