“It’s Mark.”
My entire body quakes with the sound of Mark’s voice. Why is he using his first name, not “Mr. Compton”? And why do I care, when his being here in the middle of the night can’t be good? I yank open the door. And Lord help me, the blast of alpha, tormented man steals my breath and weakens my knees.
His arm is high above his head, pressed to the door frame. His red tie doesn’t even have a knot anymore. His white shirt is wrinkled, his jaw shadowed, and his blond hair a rumpled mess.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper. He looks worse than the night I arrived in San Francisco to find him halfway through a bottle of scotch. “Is Dana—”
“My mother’s fine. She went to sleep right after you left.” His lashes lower, then lift as he does a sweep of my body, lingering at my chest, where my nipples are no doubt puckering beneath the thin silk.
I hug myself to cover my near nakedness. “What’s happening, Mark?” My lips purse. “Correction. Mr. Compton.”
His bloodshot eyes meet mine. “Mr. Asshole will do.”
“I was angry when I said that.”
“You were right. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head as if it’s filled with cobwebs. “What? You’re . . . sorry?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Crystal.”
I don’t miss the use of my first name rather than Ms. Smith. “I don’t understand. What are you sorry for?”
“Absolutely everything. I had no right to drag you into my hell—and once I did, I couldn’t seem to stay away from you. I even blamed you for my lack of control, because no one sees me the way you have. No one, Crystal. I had to get control over myself. And that meant control over my addiction to you.”
“Addiction?” I’m shocked that he would ever use such a word, let alone in reference to me.
“That’s right—and I don’t have addictions. But I don’t know what’s real right now, and that’s not fair to you. So I presented you with a contract last night, knowing how you’d react.”
I swallow the knot in my throat. “I see,” I manage softly.
He scrubs his jaw. “No. No, you don’t see. I want you, Crystal. No. It’s more than that. I need you—and I’ve never felt that way about a woman; not even Rebecca. You have no idea what guilt that creates in me. Maybe I’m displacing the emotions I had for her to you, which would make me an asshole. I don’t know. I just know that I’m not in a place that’s fair to you. And since I couldn’t seem to do the right thing, I went to your office to make you hate me so you would. So I couldn’t get the chance to hurt you.”
Everything hard inside me melts. Here is the man I’ve fallen for, the one capable of honest emotion, no matter how damning it might be. I step forward, closing my hand around his shirt. “Come inside before my neighbors hear us.”
His feet are set hard, his body unmoving. “No. I want you too much to be able to come in and not touch you.”
“Good,” I whisper.
He grabs my wrists, warmth climbing up my arms at his touch. “You’re not hearing me. I’m going to hurt you if we keep going like this.”
“Don’t give yourself so much credit, and me none,” I chide.
“Crystal,” he says softly, as if he knows that I’m deflecting so I don’t have to admit the truth. Because he’s right. He is going to hurt me—but it’s too late to turn back now.
I lace the fingers of my other hand with his, relieved when he allows me to lead him inside. He shuts the door and locks it, leaning against it as I had, and still fighting his emotions.
The torment in him is familiar. It is how he comes to me, perhaps even why he comes to me. And like him, it is my weakness. Perhaps he senses how familiar the emotion is to me. Perhaps that emotion is the true bond between us, one destined to carve me into pieces. I’ve begun to think Mark is my drug, a high that has consequences, but I can’t seem to care.
I step to him and he reaches for me, lacing his fingers into my hair. My skin tingles at his touch and then his mouth is on mine, his tongue stroking into my mouth. In one hot lick, he has me moaning; in two, I’m melting into his hard body, my fingers reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
He reaches down, his fingers wrapping my wrists, tearing his mouth from mine as he holds them between us. “This isn’t about one night anymore, Crystal. If I stay, I won’t walk away again. I’ll try to own you,” he warns. “I want you that badly.”
Own me. I don’t know why there’s a burn in my belly at the words I’ll never allow to be fulfilled. He’s using me to survive the loss of Rebecca, and when I’m with him, there’s no room for the juggling in my head. “You won’t ever own me, Mark. But I can handle you trying.”
“You didn’t think I could make you tell me to lick your pussy in that bathroom, either. I’m demanding, and I’ll push and push, and push some more. I’ll put you on your knees because I can. I’ll make you beg because I can.” His hands go to my shoulders. “I’m going to ask for more than you ever thought you would give.”
Yes. Please.
Oh God. What is he doing to me? “And if I won’t give it to you? Then what?”
“I’ll find a way to convince you.”
“I have limits,” I say, unsure why I can’t just say “no.”