“We did. Now move.”
“No.” Ronin latched on to her biceps, careful in the way he held her—firmly, but not too closely. “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“If you’re so pissed off at me about this, why aren’t you lashing out at me?”
“Oh, I’m supposed to be rude after turning down a business proposition from my lover? Sorry, I’m unfamiliar with protocol.”
“Jesus, Amery.”
Her eyes searched his. “You even offering me a loan has changed things between us.”
“Bull.”
“And I’m really sorry I told you about my financial issues, which forced you into a heroic attempt to save my business. So forget I brought it up and we’ll keep this”—she gestured between them—“the way it’s been.”
Ronin moved in close—dangerously close. “And what way has that been?”
“Fun. No pressure to make it into something it’s not.”
“Like what?”
“Permanent.”
“Permanent,” he repeated.
“Yes. If you loaned me money, then we’d be tied together, for at least a year, making it awkward when one of us walks away.”
Evidently that was the wrong thing to say.
Ronin’s mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was ferocious. Uncompromising. So blistering hot Amery was shocked the water around them wasn’t boiling.
Hard hands on her body, in her hair. She couldn’t catch her breath, his mouth was so demanding.
He ripped his lips free of hers, and his voice reverberated in her ear. “I’ll show you tied together.” Then he sank his teeth into the skin at her throat and pulled her head back. His eyes burned into hers. “I have you where I want you, how I want you, and you’ll be mine until I release you.”
She should’ve protested his tight hold on her or his warning. But she didn’t. She wanted to experience every dirty, bad, harsh thing he wanted to do with her.
“Do you understand?”
Primal lust and the need to . . . master her shone in his eyes.
In that moment she realized he wasn’t talking about binding her with ropes, but with this sexual obsession. He hadn’t disputed her claim that there’d never be permanence between them. Any other time her brain would’ve taken over, dissecting every word. But her brain wasn’t in charge right now; her body was. And it had already readied for him: heart racing, blood pumping, pu**y wet, clit swollen, ni**les tight. So she gave him the answer they both wanted—even when it frightened her how quick and visceral her response to this man had become.
“Yes, I understand.”
Ronin took her to the ground and f**ked her until his knees were raw and her back bore the cement scrape marks of his possession. After he’d turned her mindless, he f**ked her again in the swimming pool. No words exchanged. The sounds of heaving breathing, soft grunts and sighs, and splashing water became the only conversation they needed.
There was no tenderness in the aftermath. And for the first time with him, Amery felt ashamed of what they were doing to each other—not sexually, but emotionally.
“Ronin.”
“I know, baby.”
But he didn’t know. And worse, he didn’t ask what she’d meant. He retreated from her again.
They remained like that, side by side on the pool deck, staring up at the sky, not speaking because neither knew what to say.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AMERY had just settled in behind her desk on Friday morning with a cup of coffee when her office door opened.
“Delivery for Amery Hardwick.”
She glanced up. Chaz stood in the doorway holding an enormous bouquet of flowers.
He lowered them and met her eyes. “A peace offering for jumping to conclusions and jumping your shit. I’m sorry. It was a dick move and it’ll never happen again.”
“You sure about that?”
“Oh, I’ll probably be a dick to you again, but it won’t be for the same reason.” He set the flowers on top of the filing cabinet and fiddled with them. “Friends support each other. I didn’t support you, ergo, I’m a shitty friend. I’ve felt so freakin’ guilty I couldn’t even show my face around here.”
“I missed your ugly mug, Chaz.”
“Not even on my worst hair day am I ugly on the outside.” He sobered. “But on the inside . . . different story.”
Amery got up and gave him a hug. “We all have ugly days. I’m glad today isn’t one of them.”
“I am too, ma chérie. So am I forgiven?”
“Only if you buy me lunch.”
“Done. Indian sound okay?”
“Sounds perfect.” She gave him one last squeeze. “Thanks for the pretty posies.”
“Guilt flowers are the best kind.”
• • •
“HARDER.”
“No.”
“Yes. Move into it with your whole body. Perfect. You’ve got the rhythm. Now pull back slowly.”
Amery panted and slumped against him. “You’re wearing me out, Ronin.”
“That’s the point. Come on. Stay with me here. We’re almost there.”
“I can’t.”
He peered down at her, their faces so close she saw sweat beaded on his jawline. She licked her lips, wanting a taste of salt and Ronin.
“Stop with the bedroom eyes. Take a breath. Then we’re going again.”