Page 115 of Black Light: Cured

Softening his gaze, he takes a step toward me. “Why do you think I’m upset right now?”

“Because I can’t clean up after myself?”

“Listen, minx. The apartment is a symptom, not the problem. The problem is you’re stretching

yourself way too thin. If you don’t have the energy to do your job, the extras, work at Black Light, and

take care of things that help your environment be less chaotic and healthier for you, then you might

need to cut down on stuff.”

“Like what?” I nearly scream, hysteria lacing my tone. “I can’t take less clients at work because

then I’ll struggle with my bills. I can’t refuse to work at Black Light because then I won’t be able to

afford to play there. Unless you think I should put myself up for a Roulette to possibly earn a month of

membership, but I didn’t think you were the kind that wanted to share.”

Growling, he grips my wrist and pins me against the wall. “I’m not the type of man that will

share. Ever. While we’re in this relationship, you are mine, Lila. Mine to discipline, mine to fuck,

mine to take care of, which includes things like this.”

“And I appreciate that. But I can’t let you.”

“Can’t,” he counters, “or won’t.”

“Won’t then. It’s not like we’re married. It’s not like we’ve made some long-term commitment to

each other. Hell, we’ve only been on one official date. I can’t depend on you for things like money.

One, that’s not fair to you. And two, I need to know I can do this on my own. I’ve been managing

before you came along, and heaven forbid we split, I need to know I can continue doing this without

you. I’m not in this relationship for you to take care of me, and I don’t need that. But I am bringing you

my complete person, flaws and all.”

“I’m not going to make you quit your job or stop massaging at Black Light, but something has to be

done.”

Weariness slams into me as I push past him and head toward my bed. “Look. I’ll just be better

about cleaning it. You won’t have to see it look like this again.”

“Or…” He grabs my arm and pulls me back. “I hire a maid for you.”

A wry smile twists up my lips. “You’re funny. Now are you going to tuck me in before you

leave?”

“You think I’m leaving? You better think again.” Slipping one arm under my knees, he picks me up

bridal style and navigates the random clothes and items on his way to the bedroom. “So, what I’m