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That’s what this huge debt hanging over her head felt like—penance.
For making the wrong decision.
For not being good enough, clever enough, smart enough.
“What happens if I say yes to you taking over?” she asked.
“Then you become mine.”
“For . . . for how long?” And what would being his be like?
You know what it would be like. He just told you. He expects obedience. Blind devotion. For you to give up control.
You need to be strong and stay well away from him. Tell him no.
But all she wanted was to tell him yes.
Was it just for right now? While they were here? It had to be, right? Because there was no way he truly wanted her.
Not the way she wanted him. The way she dreamed about him, craved him.
Obsessed over him.
“For as long as I want,” he whispered.
She stiffened in shock. Then another clap of thunder had her whimpering.
“I need the bathroom,” she squealed.
Fudge knuckles. Why did she say that?
And why wasn’t he moving?
“I can tell. But I don’t think I’ll take you until I get my answer.”
Was he kidding her!
“You can’t tell me when I can go to the bathroom!”
“Baby, I believe I just did.”
It would serve him right if she peed herself while sitting on him, in his two-thousand-dollar suit, on his thirty-thousand-dollar couch.
Okay, she might be exaggerating about the cost of his couch. Maybe.
She pressed her thighs together. “Reuben.”
“Reuben, huh? No Prince of Darkness or SOS?”
She froze. Wait. He knew that she called him those things?
“When I first heard you muttering SOS around me, I thought that you were calling for help. But that’s not it, is it? What does it stand for, Little Blossom?”
Oh no.
She was not telling him.
She shook her head and tried to climb off his lap, but he tightened his hold on her.
