Her eyes dropped to my scar, before looking away, denying me access to her thoughts.
That pissed me off. I dropped my hand, letting her breast go. “Scars aren’t contagious, dobycha.”
She shook her head. “Scars aren’t contagious, but your craziness is. What makes you think you can wave money in my face, and I’ll spread my legs for you?”
I crowded her against the glass; my hips pulsed needing to collide with hers.
“Because you feel it. If I touched you right now I’d probably find you’re wet for me. And even though I’m crazy, all I want to do is drive deep inside you—I want to worship you in my own way. I want to adore you by touching you, kissing you, biting you.” I dropped my gaze to her lips, loving the swollen pinkness, the tempting glisten. “Forget about everything but how your body feels. Do you want me? Do you want me to release your anger with my tongue?”
Her eyes met mine swimming and slightly vacant with desire. “You’re messing with my head.” She raised her hands to push me away, but I dodged her touch. “You turn me on, I won’t deny that, but I’m not staying here. I can’t.”
“You can because you need the money. I won’t be satisfied with just once. I need to know I can take you whenever I damn well want. I want to own you for thirty days with no limits.”
She wrapped arms around her body, rolling her shoulders. “Why did it have to happen this way?” She looked up to the ceiling as if she could smite fate for landing her in my path. She looked desolate, confused, and sad, so terribly sad.
My heart jerked; I ran a hand through my hair. I was right. She was like me. More than I knew.
“Life hasn’t been kind to you, has it, dobycha?” The angry dominance left my voice, edging toward soft curiosity.
Zel froze. Her teeth clenched; her sadness was replaced with coldness. “That’s none of your business. And stop calling me that.”
“Tell me your name, agree to my terms, and I’ll call you whatever you want.”
She tilted her chin upward. “Fine, if you want to know so badly. My name is Hazel Hunter, and you’re right. If you touched me now you would find I’m wet for you. Wet for the promise of what you offer, for the anticipation of what it would be like, but it doesn’t matter because one, you’re an asshole, and two, I can’t stay here for a month.”
My cock lurched, picturing the dampness between her legs.
I didn’t like was her refusal yet again. It was getting fucking tiresome.
My stomach twisted at the thought of taming this woman. She wasn’t walking away. She would stay here a month, and I would get rid of this overwhelming obsession and go back to my sexless lonely life.
“Two hundred thousand.” My voice roughened, already imagining her naked to feast on. “I’ll give you two hundred thousand for one month of pure access. I want to buy your obedience, your body, your mind. But most of all I want to buy your secrets.”
I expected her to scream, tighten her tiny fists, and smack me in the face. Instead, everything stilled. The noises of multiple fights downstairs and the soft notes of music faded as Hazel hypnotized me by sucking on her bottom lip. Nervousness etched her face as she cocked her head. “Two hundred thousand?”
I sensed her weakening and knew I’d finally found a figure she’d sell for. “Payable in cash at the end of the month.”
Her eyes lit up as thoughts raced over her face, then faded just as fast. “You truly are desperate.”
My heart stopped. Slamming me back to reality where a perfect goddess like Hazel would never sleep with a gargoyle like me.
Fuck this. Why was I bothering? I could choose any whore to service me and not have to fight and cajole. I switched from wanting her to wanting to throw her to the ground and make her swallow her words.
Her eyes zeroed in on the jagged scar on my cheek. “I’ll tell you what I think of you, Obsidian Fox. Just because you excite some stupid part of my brain and make me want someone for the first time in years doesn’t mean you can act the scarred villain and scare me into your bed. I’m not in the business of selling my soul or fucking strangers for money, but it so happens you’re right. I do need the cash, and I’d be willing to do almost anything, but what I won’t do is put up with a vainglorious asshole. I’ve dealt with enough of them for several lifetimes.”
I never took my eyes off her. An aura of anger shimmered. Vulnerable but fierce—a potent combination for the killer inside. I wanted to break her all while letting her shine.
She laughed suddenly. “You’re insane.” Then she muttered under her breath, “I’m insane.”
My stomach twisted as she locked her spine and turned the full force of her green gaze on me.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this, but try to be less of a bastard.” Her hand came out, palm facing upward ready to accept something. “Give me back my knife and ask me politely, gently. Don’t give me a reason to want to use it.”
My heart forgot how to beat, stuttering over itself. Respect braided with lust and I fell further into her trap. Somehow she’d ended up with the power, and I hated it.
Slipping a hand into my pocket, I removed the blade and held it out. My hands clenched. She’s fucking up my life already. My body trembled with the need for pain. I needed to be on my own. I had to find relief from this horror. What was I thinking?
“You’ll stay for one month.”
She nodded, eyes latching onto her knife.
“You’ll let me fuck you however I please.”
Her body tensed but slowly she nodded.
“You’ll stop arguing and answer any question I have?”
Her gaze met mine, a flash of ire in their depths. Finally, she nodded.
I dropped the knife into her waiting palm, careful not to touch her. I doubted my self-control could handle more stimulation at that moment. I felt like I’d been to war, came out bleeding, and not entirely sure who won.
The instant the knife fell into her grip, she wrapped her fingers tight around it and hugged it to her body.
I sensed the moment she came to her conclusion. Fire lit her face and resolution strengthened her body. “You mistreat me, and I’ll make sure you’ll be dickless for the rest of your life. Treat me with respect and desire and I’ll stay.”
Brushing a strand of hair curling around her cheek, she murmured, “I accept your offer, Obsidian Fox. Don’t make me regret it.”
Chapter 5
My favourite saying was: the beauty in this world was hidden by filth and lies while evil was painted in beauty and smiles.
It had become a testament I lived by. A rule I never broke. Because I no longer trusted beauty and smiles. I learned the hard way.
I learned to scratch the surface and search for truth and realness, all the while protecting myself in lies.
But then a man, who was neither beautiful or a liar, made a proposition. With fear and stupidity, I sold myself to him. Sold myself to a fighter who could sense my lies as easily as a fox senses a rabbit.
I regretted it.
I revelled in it.
It destroyed me.
A second after I sold myself, a rush of horror smothered my heart.
What the hell am I doing?
I regretted it instantly, but I’d told Fox the truth. I would do anything for money, as money had the power to save Clara. She was the only thing worth fighting for. The only thing that would make me do such horrendous things.
If it meant she’d live another day, a month, a year—I would sell myself to countless men or work in a mine or even deal drugs out of my tiny apartment.
I sold my dignity. My body. My very fucking soul for money. All because I had no other way. No other assets, no hope apart from trading myself like some possession at a garage sale.
But with horror came relief. Half an hour ago I had no hope, but now I had two hundred thousand wishes to find a way out of heartbreak.
Fox stood tall, watching me warily. He seemed as shocked as I was with what happened between us. I hadn’t lied when I said he could’ve had me for free. If he’d been cordial and kind—I would’ve willingly gone on a date and even slept with him.
He’s an asshole but you like his arrogance, his iron-will, and demands.
I wanted to scrub my brain from such stomach-churning thoughts. I wasn’t a woman who bowed to the wills of men. I was a woman who shoved them down and trod all over them, leaving them in my dust. But Fox…he was angry but damaged. Scary but lonely. Demanding but requesting.
I couldn’t make sense of him at all. And that made me nervous. How would I know he would pay?
How will you stay for a month?
I gritted my teeth. That was one part of the bargain I would break. I wouldn’t stay for the month. I would sneak out and see Clara. I would find a way to see my sick daughter because I could never live with myself if she thought I’d abandoned her. And I wouldn’t put up with such stupid demands to keep me prisoner. A revision of the terms would be addressed, but not yet. Not until I gave him a little, so I could take a lot.
Cocking my head, I asked, “How can I be sure you’ll pay?”
His hands clenched as a burst of energy filtered through him. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his white-grey eyes. “I’ll pay. I promise.”
“You promised I couldn’t hurt you, but I did. Like I said, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” My eyes fell to his torn shirt, searching for the small cut I’d delivered.
“Alright, I see trust is a big issue for you. Just like I gave you back your knife in good faith, I’ll pay you half up front.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that settle your nerves?”
Holding my head high, I said, “Yes, that would be appreciated.” The moment I had the cash I would take it home to Clara. As tempting as it would be to break the rest of the contract, I wouldn’t. I gave him my word.
My stomach fluttered at the thought of him touching me, thrusting deep inside. The money was for Clara, but the sex—I wanted that for me. I wanted to see what people wrote sonnets about. If the sparks between Fox and me were any indication, when he finally took me it would be worth the mild discomfort of accepting his money for a service rendered.
Fox came closer and I steeled myself against his overbearing presence. His scent of smoke and metal surrounded me, playing havoc with my thoughts. My knickers were damp from fighting with him, and my nipple still tingled where he’d cupped my breast.
His hand landed on my hip. A thumb circled my pronounced hipbone beneath the gossamer material of my dress. If I thought an innocuous touch on my wrist resonated with connection it was nothing, nothing, compared to the burst of hotness, the euphoria of his fingers stroking my tender flesh.
“I can’t wait to see you naked, dobycha.” His head bowed to run a nose through my styled hair. “I want your hair loose so I can hold it while I take you from behind.”
My core melted, my heart thrummed. I had nothing to retaliate with.
His gaze fell to my lips. “Don’t move.” Time slowed as his hand came up and cupped my braless breast again. “Tell me what you like so I can make this good for you, too.”
I shuddered as he brushed a thumb over the highly sensitive nipple. I swayed forward, willingly giving him access. “I like that.” A strange kind of peace settled over me. Gone was the embarrassment at selling myself. I would get more than just money from this. I would unlock hidden desires I never knew existed. I’d done the right thing and fate hadn’t forgotten about me—it had listened to my screams for help. It had given me Obsidian Fox.
His grip suddenly went from caressing to possessing, and I bit my lip, swallowing back a moan.
He sucked in a heavy breath, pinching my nipple with strong fingers almost as if testing himself, pushing boundaries I didn’t understand. “Do you like that?”