Page 99 of A Win-Win Situation
"I-I only met him because he showed up here, out of the blue. I had to tell him to leave me alone and to move on."
"You lied to me." Lucas's body is still pressed up against mine, and I can feel every hard ridge of his torso against mine.
"I’m sorry," I murmur.
His eyes go back to the bruise on my arm.
"I’m okay, Lucas. It’s just a bruise."
"No, he hurt you, and if that coward hadn’t left the country yesterday, I would have hurt him too." His hands clench into fists on the wall, and the anger in his eyes is palpable.
I can’t believe my ears, why would he do that. Why would he go after John?
To be honest, I’m happy John left France. Even though he’s hurt me in several ways, I don’t think my conscience could handle Lucas hurting him.
I swallow hard, the air between us heavy with tension. "You went to see John?" I cautiously inquire, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I had to make sure he understood the consequences. No one hurts you and gets away with it. But I was too late."
"I appreciate that you want to protect me, Lucas," I say, meeting his eyes, "but I didn’t ask you to go after John. I can handle him."
His brows furrow, frustration in his expression. "I don't want you seeing him again, Leora."
I understand where he’s coming from, but it’s not his decision who I have coffee with. It’s not like I’m planning on meeting John in the future; I never want to see him again. But Lucas’s possessive ego is starting to annoy me and as much as I want to belong to him, I don’t. He’s made sure of that.
"You don't get to decide that," I retort, lifting my chin in defiance.
He lets out a deep laugh. "Yes, I do." He pulls my hand up and we both glance at the ring on my finger. "As long as this pathetic excuse for a ring is on your finger, I decide," he asserts, his tone filled with possessiveness. The audacity of his claim fuels the fire burning inside me.
Who does he think he is? What the fuck is wrong with him?
We’re only friends, Leora.
You look good in red, Leora.
You’re funny, Leora.
You can't meet him, Leora.
What does he want from me?
"No, Lucas," I retort, my voice filled with defiance. "A ring doesn't give you ownership over me and who I can see. We're just friends, remember?"
His face contorts in frustration, lines etching deep furrows across his forehead. "Friends?" he scoffs, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Yes, Lucas," I respond, my voice steady despite the surge of emotions coursing through me. "That's what you said, remember? During mystuntin Paris."
His eyes search mine, the turmoil within him mirroring my own, and the pull between us grows stronger.
He completely ignores my words. "I won't tolerate you meeting up with anyone behind my back, and I sure as hell won’t tolerate anyone touching you—leaving amarkon you."
"Oh, really? And what are you going to do about it, hmm?" I challenge.
A wicked smile curls his lips, his eyes gleaming with a hint of danger. His hand finds its way to the small of my back, pulling me flush against his chest.
"You have no idea what I'm capable of, darling. But I promise you, if you continue testing my patience, I will take you up on my promise to take you over my knees." His voice drops to a low, husky whisper, filled with an intoxicating blend of authority and desire.
The magnetism between us is almost unbearable. But I refuse to back down. "I belong to myself, Lucas. No one owns me. Not you or anyone else."
