Propositioning Love

Looking up at him, I’d take offense that he feels the need to remind me that he bought me if he didn’t look so damn torn up about this whole situation.

I part my lips, just about to tell him I didn’t forget, but he cuts me off. His fingers gripping my chin harder.

“I mean it, Zoe. I bought you, I own you, you’re mine,” he repeats, his eyes darkening.

The look in his eyes cuts right through me and for a moment I forget how to breathe. Feeling as if he just branded those very words onto my heart. Then he’s kissing me, his heat searing into me. My head swims and my lungs burn, but I throw myself at him.

Clutching at him.

My lips may be sore, almost bruised, from all the kissing we’ve already done today, but I need this. Need him.

Every second, every touch. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

I need to store up as much of him as I can get.

The elevator dings but we both ignore it.

My heart is about to be ripped in two and I can’t bear it.

With a groan, he grabs me up, crushing me to his chest. Lifting me up until I’m straining on my tiptoes.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth, hungry and desperate. Grabbing my thigh, he lifts my leg over his hip and for a crazy moment I’m hoping he takes me right now, right here.

Then someone clears their throat behind us.

That sound might as well be a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I freeze against Bry and he stiffens. Tearing his mouth reluctantly away from mine, his glare glides over my head.

I pant against his chest, wanting to hide my face.

“Yes?” Bry snaps in irritation, clearly pissed that we were interrupted.

“The elevator, sir…” Chad stumbles out nervously and then clears his throat again. “You’re going to miss it.”

Fuck. Out of all the people in the office that could have stumbled across us, it just had to be Chad.

“Duly noted,” Bry growls, and then he’s helping me slide my leg down.

Grabbing me by the hips, he helps me get my balance, his hands sliding down my skirt once I’m steady. Smoothing it until I’m modest again.

I purposely keep my attention focused on him, the thought of meeting Chad’s eyes making me feel sick to my stomach.

How much did he see?

How much did he fucking hear?

The elevator doors start to close but Bry slashes out his arm to stop them. Once the doors are fully retracted again, he guides me into the elevator, coming up behind me.

Automatically I turn to face the doors and groan inwardly when Chad starts to walk in, intending to join us.

“You’ll take the next one,” Bry says, the sharp authority in his tone bringing Chad up short.

Chad shoots him a confused look and then his face flushes with angry embarrassment.

“But Mr. Ericsson—”

Bry hits the button to close the doors, cutting off his protest.

I begin to relax as the doors slide towards each other and Bry turns towards me. But then I catch a glimpse of Chad staring at me through the closing crack. His eyes meet mine for the briefest of seconds and he smiles that slimy smile of his.

Then he’s gone, the doors closing in on him. Like the Cheshire fucking Cat though, my eyes still see his grin.

He knows… dammit, he knows.

I’d bet my life on it.

“I’ve had a new security system installed,” Bry informs me just before we step off the elevator that opens to his penthouse.

Scratch that. Our penthouse.

Damn, it still feels a little weird to use those words—our penthouse.

While I may technically be living with him, I don’t feel as if I have right to claim ownership of anything he owns. I certainly haven’t earned it. If anything, this whole thing is just a temporary arrangement.

If living together works out, which I wholeheartedly hope it does, I plan on asking him to move somewhere new. A place we pick together.

Walking up to the new little white box that’s been added to the wall, he taps the screen. “Should you need to disarm it, the password for the time being is Bella. You can also disarm it from the phone I gave you.”

Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I simply nod at him. The phone he gave me is sitting in my purse, loaded up with a bunch of contacts and apps I probably won’t need.

“The system is set to automatically arm at eight p.m. and disarm at seven a.m.”

I nod again. Already the melancholy is beginning to creep in. His impending departure hanging like a brewing thunder storm over my head.

“Several cameras have been installed throughout the rooms. I’ll be able to remotely view you whenever you need me.”

Wait. What?

“You’re going to be spying on me?” I ask, frowning.