Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

I suppress a smile. “That’s a big statement.”

“Give me one and I’ll prove it.”

“No.” The idea of her with a gun in her small hand makes the blood in my veins run cold.

“Scared I’ll win?”

“It’s not about winning. It’s about safety.”

She laughs. “If you expect me to sit here like a good girl and say prayers or read poems while you go fucking around, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Where’s this coming from?” I try to take her hand, but she steps out of my reach.

“Don’t touch me,” she says through thin lips.

My frustration mounts. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She balls her hands at her sides. “If you get to fuck around, so do I.”

The mere idea sends me into a rage. “What gave you that idea that I’m fucking around?”

“You went out with your brother and buddy to get laid,” she says, her plump lips curling around to get laid with disgust.

Ah. The lightbulb goes on. I can see how she’d assume that. I didn’t tell her where I was going because I couldn’t. I don’t want her involved in my shady business. Yet I involved her the minute I dragged her into my life. She’s part of it now whether I like it or not. I can’t compartmentalize my life and put her in a safe box on a glass shelf. I decided to keep her without being prepared to make her a part of every aspect of my life. That’s neither my nor her modus operandi. We’re both all-or-nothing people. Despite all the bullshit he’s spewed, Ruben was right about one thing. She’s not that kind of woman. She’s not going to sit here and look pretty for me. Neither do I want her to.

Tears well up in her eyes when my silence stretches for a second too long. “I hope you enjoyed our last fuck, because you won’t touch me again.”

“Cas, baby doll, I didn’t fuck anyone else.”

“If you put your hands on another woman you can keep her. I’m not your plaything.”

“I didn’t look at or touch another woman.”

Her expression turns uncertain. “How can I believe you?”

She’s tipsy and hurt, but I don’t let her escape any longer. I cup her head with one hand and thread the silky strands of her hair through the other. “Why would I do that when everything I want is right here?”

A sob catches in her throat. She says in a hoarse whisper, “Because I didn’t tell you I wanted to be exclusive.”

I drag her to my chest. “You don’t have to say it. We are.”

She fights me to pull away. “If that’s true, why did you want me to ask for it?”

“I wanted you to admit what you wanted to help you accept it quicker.”

“Accept what?”

“That I’m never letting you go.” This has nothing to do with the fact that she’s my prisoner. I mean this in a totally different way. Lowering my head, I brush my lips over the soft spot behind her ear and whisper, “You’re mine. You have been from the moment I saw you, and you will be until I blow out my last breath. Nothing is going to change that.” Just because I love the sound of it, I repeat, “You’re mine.”

The fight leaves her. She agrees by snaking her arms around my neck. The gesture is sweeter than any words. The way she leans her weight against me gives me every answer I could ever want from her.

The handbag that’s slung across her chest digs into my stomach. Gently, I remove it, taking care not to catch her hair on the buckle of the strap.

Sniffing, she asks, “What time is it?”

I check my watch. “Just after one. Why?”

“Just wanted to know. Habit, I guess.”

“Time for bed. You need to sleep off all the alcohol in your system.”

“I only had four beers.”

“Those beers are strong.” Reluctantly, I push her away to help her undress. “Next time, tell me if you want to go out. I’ll take you.”

“Why?” She lifts her arms when I yank on the hem of her tank top.

“So that I can look after you while you lose control.”

“We can both have fun.”

I let the T-shirt drop to the floor. Fuck me. She’s wearing the see-through red bra with the black lace trimming. On the store shelf, it looked tacky in the slutty kind of way most men find sexy, but on her body it’s as hot as hell. I barely manage to tear my gaze away from the hard tips of her nipples visible through the hazy red voile.

“You bet your life we’ll both have fun,” I say in a hoarse voice.

She unbuttons her jeans. “Where have you been anyway?”

I crouch down at her feet to untie her laces. “Business.”

“Doing what?” She sways a little. “Robbing a bank?”

That makes me grin. “Changing cash into electronic currency.”