Lies That Sinners Tell (The Klutch Duet 1)

But this was different. This was something darker. Uglier. This was a very bright red flag, waving rapidly right in front of my face. There had already been many, ones I’d been willing to ignore, but not this one.

I straightened, crossing my arms as I glared at him. “Of course. Most likely because the women you enter in to these arrangements with are impressed by this house. This room. The cars. Dinners. Lingerie. Sparkly things.” I held up my wrist and very purposefully unclasped the diamond bracelet before moving to set it on his nightstand.

“Though I may be a woman who appreciates the finer things in life, I’m also a woman who understands that the most precious things in this life cannot be bought, sold or arranged. My father is important to me. The most important person in my life. I’ve bent a lot with this arrangement. More than I ever thought I would for a man. Because you made it clear that there was one way this worked—your way. And though I’ve doubted myself and my strength for submitting so quickly, so easily ... I will not do that now.”

I gave Jay one more harsh, lingering look then turned around to leave before I lost my nerve. Before I became one of those women I loathed who abandoned her family or her friends for a man. I had been closer to being her than I wanted to admit.

But I walked away.

Or tried to.

Jay moved quickly. I wasn’t even out of his bedroom before he grabbed me. Granted, his bedroom was fucking huge.

His hands circled around my now empty wrist and yanked me back so I was facing him.

His grip on my wrist was not tender. Was not gentle. Not even a little. It betrayed just how much I’d infuriated him by walking away, by being prepared to end something he’d considered himself in control of.

My skin prickled with the contact, the pain, the nefarious energy swirling around us.

Something cold fastened around my wrist.

“You do not take this off. Ever,” he commanded, eyes never leaving mine as he put the bracelet back on me. My stomach plummeted in fear at the tone of his voice. The danger in it. There was an anger there that I hadn’t seen before. Something that hinted about his insides. About who he really was.

He continued to grip my wrist, even though the bracelet was back on. I didn’t try to fight him or break his eye contact even though it was difficult.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “The women in the past have known exactly who I was, what I offered them, and they were hungry for it. All of it. Ravenous, and for most of them, it was the only time in their lives when they satisfied that hunger. You, Stella, you are a woman who does not let herself starve. You are a woman who feasts.”

His hand ghosted down to my hips, gripping them.

“You think you submit to me,” he murmured. “But as a man who has been able to control many women willingly, I have not faced a challenge like you before. I have never been infuriated by a woman. Nor have I respected one quite like I respect you. And I do not know what it’s like to have a bond by blood, to value family above all else. So you will go to see your father.”

Even though my going had never been in question, I sagged in relief I would’ve left this arrangement without regret if he had tried to keep me from my father, but my traitorous mind would’ve tortured me with need afterward.

“You’re right regarding the fact that I make the terms of this arrangement. I am in control of the details, and I am not forfeiting a weekend with you,” Jay continued. “Therefore, I will be accompanying you.”

I stared at Jay, processing his words in my mind. My ... not boyfriend, not fuck buddy—I really hesitated to call him a ‘Dom’, even though that’s pretty much what he was—had decided to come back to my childhood home to celebrate Thanksgiving with my father?

Fuck.

There’d been no convincing Jay. And I had tried. Even in the face of that granite expression and dangerous tone, I’d tried. Hard.

But he had made up his mind. That he was going to come to Thanksgiving. In Missouri. For three days. With my father.

It was an intrusion. An invasion of my private, precious time. I was protective over my father and the limited time we had together. I hadn’t even thought about bringing home any of the very few semiserious boyfriends I’d had over the years. Of course, most of them had been happy about that since a woman not trying to drag her boyfriend home to the parents was somewhat unusual. A couple of my more intense boyfriends had been offended and sulky when I’d refused to invite them to such holidays. They hadn’t lasted much longer after that.