Bad Boy Soldier (Bad Boy 3)

I couldn't deny that my body responded immediately to his kiss and his touch. When I finally kissed him back, giving in instead of fighting, he stopped and pulled away, leaving me almost panting with desire.

"I don't need this," he said, his hands on his hips. "I don't force women and I don't enjoy hesitation. So, we're done until you come to me. Willingly."

Then he turned and left me alone, my heart racing, my body aching with desire. I watched in silence as he grabbed his leather jacket from the back of a chair beside the door and left, slamming the door behind him.

I should have admitted that I wanted him as much as he wanted me—probably more—but my pride prevented me.

I couldn't get around the fact that he owned me financially. Sure, he’d saved my brother's life, paid of his debts, and protected me when the mob became too interested in me. He’d paid off my tuition and the lost inheritance.

But I wanted more.

The truth was that I couldn't be happy being his fuck toy no matter how much I enjoyed it.

I did enjoy it. He'd proven that multiple times.

But I wasn't just some Boston wiseguy's fuck toy.

Until he understood that, we'd have to be enemies. So, instead giving Hunter a bath, washing his back, and then having sex with him, I sat alone on the sofa, my arms crossed. In truth, I wanted things to work out with him, but not like this. Not with me beholden to him, doing things because I had to rather than because I had chosen to. He was right. Sex had to be chosen freely or it was rape. At the least, it was prostitution.

I was better than that.

I waited for a few moments, wondering if he'd come back, but he didn't, so I got up and did a bit of tidying to try to distract myself. When I came to look at the seating area for more dishes, I saw the bank of video cameras and decided to check and see if George was returning to be my babysitter. Honestly, at that moment, I preferred his company. He was nice, friendly, and besides, I wanted to pump him for more information about Hunter.

I sat at the desk where I remembered George sitting and checked out the feed. On one screen, I saw the exterior of the building. A lone car drove down the street, but otherwise the neighborhood was deserted. On another screen, I saw the rear loading dock and back alley between the two buildings. Then, I noticed a small screen to the left and saw…

I saw my own apartment at the dorm.

What?

Hunter had a hidden camera in my apartment? There were two angles—one showing my bedroom, the wide-eye camera catching the bed itself and the closet area and window. The other showed the living room, doorway, and door to the tiny kitchenette.

Hunter had been spying on me at the dorm?

My pulse raced. What a bastard…

I couldn't believe it.

He'd been freaking spying on me, watching me sleep? Did he see me get dressed and undressed every day? Worse, was George watching me?

For how long?

It had to be recent…

Just then, when my pulse was racing and I was fuming in anger, my face red, the door to the apartment opened and George entered. He saw me sitting at his place and frowned.

I stood up quickly, feeling guilty that I'd been snooping, and yet fully justified and incensed that I'd discovered they'd

been watching me on hidden cameras.

"I can't believe that you and Hunter have been spying on me," I said, stepping out of the way when he entered the small office space. "I thought Hunter was above being a voyeur."

George bent down and clicked off the screen and then stood up straight. "We do it for your protection only. Not as voyeur."

"But I got dressed and undressed in my room."

George shrugged and sat at his chair. "I don't watch. Only make sure you are okay. Hunter was very worried about your safety. He put in cameras to make sure Stepan and his guys don't come for you. Hurt you."

I frowned. Of course, he was right that I was in danger from Stepan and his mob goons, but to put in a camera…