Chapter 39
HAILEY
My chest ached from forcing myself to match him in sleep.
After lying still for what felt like an eternity, I shifted my hips forward… slightly.
I covered the motion with a small shoulder shrug as I nestled my head more deeply in the pillow as if I was just settling in my sleep.
I then waited.
For another eternity.
My body fought itself as my heart raced, yet I restrained my breath to match his calm, even breathing.
I shifted again, moving further, feeling his hand slipping over my hip.
I slid my leg forward until my right toes peeked out from under the covers over the edge of the bed. Then my calf. Then my knee. My hip pivoted.
Greyson’s grip tightened.
I was swept lower under the covers, closer to his body. “Is my little bird trying to fly away?” He nuzzled my neck from behind, his warm body half covering mine.
“I have to go find Madison.”
He flipped me onto my back and leaned over me. “We’ve discussed this. The answer is no.”
“For starters, just for your own edification, me saying something and you saying no is not a discussion. Second, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. “I hate to break it to you, beautiful, but about a thousand years of evolution disagree with you. I’m bigger and stronger, which means I definitely get to tell you what to do.”
My eyes narrowed. “You misogynistic Neanderthal!”
He flicked his tongue over my lower lip. “That’s not entirely fair. Would a misogynistic Neanderthal have licked your pussy until you came…twice?”
My cheeks burned. He was the most impossibly arrogant, obnoxiously handsome man I’d ever had the misfortune to meet—murderous intent included. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
His brow furrowed. “All evidence to the contrary.”
“I have responsibilities. Bills. Rent to pay. A business to run. Plus Madison’s bookstore to watch over until she returns.”
He shrugged. “Is that all that’s worrying you?”
He bent his head and kissed the column of my neck.
I closed my eyes and bit my lip to stifle a moan.
He worked his way up to my earlobe. He gently bit it before whispering in my ear. “I’ll pay all that.”
My eyes sprang open. I then placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. “Excuse me?”
He brushed my hands aside and moved to pull one of my nipples into his mouth. “I’ll pay for all of that. Just let me know what you need, and I’ll wire the money into your account. Better yet, I’ll just wire you…what? Would one hundred thousand dollars cover everything?”
Bile rose in the back of my throat.
I’d always laughed at movie heroines who got offended when rich men threw money at them.
Take the cash, I’d scream at the screen. It turned out I was wrong. Nothing made you feel cheaper as a woman than a rich man casually throwing obscene amounts of money at you as if it were pocket change.
I shoved him hard. This time, I succeeded in sliding out of the massive bed. I snatched the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around my middle. “I don’t want your money.”
I couldn’t believe I just said that. Sorry Julia Roberts but I won’t be having my Prince Charming moment.
He lay on his side and leaned his head on his elbow. “Very noble of you.”
I raised my chin. “I’m serious, you arrogant ass. I don’t take handouts. I work for what I have so an entitled prick like you can’t take the credit.”
“I believe you.”
I tightened my grip on the blanket. “So you’re going to let me go?”
“No.”
I stamped my foot. “Dammit! What the hell, Greyson!”
He chuckled. “You really are adorable when you’re angry, like a bird with ruffled feathers, hopping about on their little feet, squeaking.”
I turned my head from side to side.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
I marched over to the bureau as I said, “Looking for something to throw at you.”
I considered my options.
He quirked an eyebrow as he tilted his head to the side. “Not another one. Must you?”
“Yes, I must,” I fired back as I selected the nearest vase displayed on the ornate bureau.
It was a shame. As a glass artist, I admired the ghostly image of the forest painted on the frosted glass. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a Daum Nancy from their Art Nouveau period, early twentieth century. Even as a knockoff, it was a pity to shatter it, but it would be worth it.
I turned and raised my arm.
Greyson was there.
He pressed his tall, naked frame to mine.
Stretching up his arm, he easily snatched the vase out of my hand. “Can’t let you break that one, little one. It’s a pate-de-verre by Almeric Walter and irreplaceable. If you want, I can call for one of the servants to bring up some cheap glass for you to throw about.”
I stared as he carefully set it back on the bureau. That meant it was a Daum Nancy. “You know about glass art?”
He backed me up against the wall. “Admit it. I just got even sexier.”
I’d rather cut off my right arm than admit it, but he kind of did.
“You tried to kill me.”
He hooked his fingers in the blanket between my breasts. “I’ve told you, it wasn’t a serious threat.”
“Are you ever serious?”
He tried to pull the blanket down. “I’m serious about wanting to see your gorgeous breasts and suck your nipples. I’m dead serious about hearing you scream my name over and over as I feast on your pretty pussy before fucking you within an inch of your life on a nightly basis.”
I resisted. “I’m serious. Can’t you be serious for a minute?”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re seriously asking about me being serious.”
I cocked my head to one side and met his dark sapphire gaze. “Seriously?”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “It’s not working, is it?”
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes, but I fought them. I hated crying—hated the idea of giving Greyson that kind of victory.
I closed my eyes. “No.”
He’d been trying to distract me all night. The problem was, I couldn’t stop.
Madison was my best friend.
She was like a sister to me.
We were each other’s only family.
I would never stop fighting for her.
He could fuck me sideways and lay on the charm all he wanted. Eventually the rain would stop, dawn would break, and reality would come with it.
My best friend was being framed for murder. The man who framed her had helped her escape. The man she supposedly murdered was alive. And the man holding me captive had helped plan the whole thing for reasons I was certain had something to do with Madison.
He cupped my jaw and looked down at me without saying a word.
All the humor had left his eyes.
His lips tightened into a straight line as a muscle high on his cheek twitched.
“Have you changed your mind? Are you going to kill me now?”