Buttons and Pain (Buttons 3)

When she heard the sincerity in my voice, her fire died down. The strength that constantly coursed through her veins turned into a simmer. “So I’ll never be able to move on with my life because you’ll kill every guy I like?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re despicable, you know that?”

“Yep.”

She shook her head and stepped away, flustered. “Even if I work off those buttons you’re just going to keep doing this.”

“No.”

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “You flew all the way here the second you found out I was seeing someone. You threatened to kill him if I touched him again. Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

“I told you I wasn’t a good guy. Not sure why you’re surprised.”

“You’re better than this.”

“Nope.”

She released a growl of frustration under her breath. “So I work off the rest of those buttons and you just disappear? Because the second we’re done I’m going back to Jason—”

“Don’t say his name.”

“I’m going back to him once we’re finished.”

That’s what she thought. “Yes.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“When I have not kept my word to you?”

She didn’t respond because there wasn’t such an instance. “I only have thirty buttons. That won’t last long.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Did that mean she was agreeing?

“Alright. Fine. But once this debt if paid, I don’t want to see you again.”

Fuck, that hurt. “Fine.”

“Okay.”

The deal had been set. She was mine again. She was mine until I ran out of buttons. “Pack your things and we’ll leave.”

“Pack my things?” she asked blankly.

“We’re going home.”

“To Italy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not leaving. Crow, I have a job.”

“I’ll give you money in compensation.”

Her eyes narrowed at the insult. “I don’t want your money. I want my life.”

I had work to do and business to oversee in Italy. “I can’t stay here.”

“Well, I can’t leave.”

This was a problem I didn’t foresee.

“Looks like this isn’t going to work after all.”

No, it was gonna work. “Pack your things. We’re staying elsewhere.”

“What?” she asked in confusion. “I said I’m not going to Italy.”

“And that’s fine. But you aren’t staying here.”

“Crow, I live here.”

“Not anymore. Now do as I say.”

“What makes you think I’m ever going to listen to you?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared me down. That fire I loved was bright in her eyes.

“I’m not fucking you in that bed.” I wasn’t going anywhere near the place she screwed Mr. Park Avenue. I wanted a clean slate, a place where she and I could start over. “You can come back here in your free time but you’re sleeping with me every night. For the last time, pack your shit and let’s go.”

Chapter Eight

Pearl

We arrived at his hotel room. It was on the top floor of The Plaza, and it just as big as a mansion. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up one wall and gave a brilliant view of the city. It had a full kitchen and dining set, laundry machines, a private pool, and several bedrooms.

It was too big for a single person. “They didn’t have anything smaller.”

Crow set my bag on the couch and ignored my comment. “Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

He poured himself a glass of wine.

I couldn’t believe I was in this hotel room—alone with him. I couldn’t believe I gave into his demands. At first I didn’t because I didn’t believe he would really hurt Jason. But when that maniacal gleam didn’t disappear from his eyes I realized he meant every word.

So I didn’t have a choice.

“Help yourself to anything you want.”

“Okay.” I already felt like I was back in Italy. The only thing missing was Lars.

He finished his wine before he crossed the living room and stopped in front of me. His eyes were dark with longing, and he wanted to get down to business right away. His hand snaked around my waist and he pulled me into his chest. His forehead rested against mine and he closed his eyes.

And he just held me.

The innocent touch was unexpected, and I closed my eyes to enjoy it. His hands gripped me tightly, but were loose enough that I could slip away if I wanted to. His breaths came out deep and even, and he seemed to reach a moment of peace. “I missed you, Button.”

The nickname brought me two months into the past. I remembered the last time we made love in his bed. He thrust into me with my legs wrapped around his waist, and he gave me passionate kisses that made my spine shiver. I fell hard for him in that moment. So hard I could never get back up.

The emotion caught in my throat but I refused to say it back. I confessed my feelings and he walked out. Our relationship was never the same again. He viewed me as a slave, a piece of property.