Time with Mr. Silver: A forced proximity steamy romance (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 7)

I SLAM THE FRONT door of the cottage, my fingers tingling with rage. I want to hit something.

Him.

I want to hit Dax square in the jaw. Hit the bastard for being so fucking infuriating and complicated.

“I wish things were different. You make me wish they were.”

What does that even mean? Does he think I’m too innocent for him because I’ve only had sex once with Gareth? When Dax has probably had sex with loads of women in his life. Especially since coming out of jail. He’s probably been making up for lost time. But Jasmin said he hardly goes out to bars. Where would he meet anyone? Maybe he has a little black book of hook-ups he calls.

Like I care!

I stomp upstairs to my bedroom, dragging my boots off my feet and ripping his hoodie off, throwing it over the mirror so it hangs, obscuring my reflection. The last thing I want to do is look at myself in it. Not when that’s what he wants me to do.

I pull off my dress and get into my pajamas and go to the bathroom to scrub my face and brush my teeth. Every movement is jerky and exaggerated by how wound up I am. He wouldn’t even let me storm off in a sulk earlier. All I wanted was to walk back alone under the night sky and clear my head. But he wouldn’t hear of it because it was dark. The bastard followed two steps behind me the entire way despite me trying to speed up and lose him. He stopped at the bottom of the path to the cottage.

I peek out between the drapes before I throw myself onto the bed.

Gone. He’s gone.

Idiot. Stupid, complicated, confusing… caring… attentive… sexy idiot.

I grab my cell phone from the bottom of the bed where I threw it and unlock it to call Casey. But my willpower loses out, and I bring up Google instead, and search for Dax Silver, Silver Estates. The first few entries are about the court case and him getting released. But further down there is a magazine article written about the estate and the gin tours it hosts. They’ve put a picture of Dax and Jasmin in. They’re at some posh function from the looks of Jasmin’s evening dress and Dax’s tuxedo.

I zoom in on him. His eyes are dark, and his blond hair is styled neatly back from his eyes. But his tattoo is still visible. A hint of dark, delicate leaves winding their way around his neck. The feathers of a tiny bird.

Damn you, Dax Silver. Damn you for being so beautiful and difficult all at once.

I run my hand down my body, stroking circles over one nipple as I travel south, burying it inside my panties where my hot skin is slick with arousal. I slide a finger inside myself, biting my bottom lip as I stare into Dax’s dark eyes. Never have I met someone who makes me want to scream with both frustration and pleasure simultaneously.

I pull my finger out and spread my wetness around my clit, stroking it in quick circles with the pads of my fingers. I’m too worked up to take my time. And thanks to a fear of the luggage scanner at the airport, I didn’t pack my vibrator. I’ve heard stories of them going off in cases and security officers unpacking them.

“Mmm,” I moan as a rush of moisture runs out of me and my nipples tighten. “You’re a bastard,” I hiss at Dax’s picture. “A moody bastard who blows hot and cold. I bet you think I’m too boring for you…” I slip two fingers inside myself and use the back of my thumb to rub my clit as I finger-fuck myself. “But I can still make myself come. I’m not as helpless as you seem to think I am.”

I speed up, my back arching off the bed as I hold my phone above me and stare at his picture like he is over me, pushing inside my body, every muscle rippling beneath his tattoos as he pounds into me with none of the restraint he shows every time I see him.

“Just like that,” I murmur, my lids heavy as I stare into his eyes.

I suck in a breath as every muscle draws in, tightening into a ball in my core. Then I explode, coming in a rush that makes me cry out his name as my body spasms around my fingers, sucking them in, desperately squeezing in the hope they will turn into his.

I drop my mouth wide and pant as I hold his eyes and a second orgasm hits me, making sweat bead on the skin between my breasts. I keep coming in waves around my fingers, staring into deep brown, looking at beautiful art upon skin, until my body wilts into the mattress with a final shudder.

I toss my phone to the side and squeeze my eyes shut.

Fuck you, Dax Silver.

“Jasmin, I need you to go to Brighton with me this afternoon to sign some papers at the lawyers’.” Dax’s deep voice booms from the hallway.

He strides into his office in a black suit and black shirt, his step faltering as he sees me standing to one side. I came in to chat to Jasmin. Now I wish I hadn’t.

“I can’t. I have the hairdresser’s,” Jasmin replies.

I frown. I’m sure she went last week. And the week before.

Dax’s eyes drop over my outfit. I have a fitted black pencil skirt on today and white silk blouse. The skirt goes down past my knees.

He frowns before turning to Jasmin.

“They need a signature from me and one other senior employee.”

“Take Logan.”

“He has a date later,” Dax grits.

“So, take Rose.” Jasmin shrugs. “She’s senior in accounts.”

My spine straightens, and I pull my shoulders back as I stare at her. Look at me, Jasmin. Look at me so I can signal that is a terrible idea.

“Rose is busy.”

“I’m busy.”

We both blurt at the same time.

I glare at Dax, and he looks back at me, a muscle in his jaw tensing.

“So now you can be busy together.” Jasmin kisses Dax on the cheek and then smiles at me. “See you later, Rose.” She walks out of the office leaving the two of us staring at each other.

He clears his throat, his Adam’s apple moving in his neck, making the edge of the bird’s wing appear like it’s fluttering.

“I need to get these papers done today. Can you come?”

“I thought you said I was busy.” I arch a brow.

It’s easier being pissed at him. When I’m pissed, I don’t have to think about how tender he was when I was cleaning him up, resting his hands on my hips and looking at me like I was the most precious thing he had ever touched. I don’t have to think about how when he says “breathe” and tells me he can feel my pulse in my wrist, it calms me like nothing else. I don’t have to think about him kissing my forehead, and how his skin touching mine sets a burst of energy off inside my core, like a bunch of fireworks.

And I don’t have to think about how I came twice last night while holding his picture above me and imagining he was fucking me so deep I would feel deliciously bruised today.

“Are you?” His deep brown eyes penetrate me.

“I suppose I can make time if you want me to come.”

“I do,” he replies without missing a beat. “But I won’t force you. I want you to feel comfortable, Rose. But there’s no one else I would rather be with. Believe me.”

I search his eyes, narrowing my own. I can’t work him out. No one else he’d rather be with? Yet, he can easily hold me on the grass last night with his lips pressed into my hair, saying I need to live my life, with conviction in his voice, and open up to me about his family’s history, and then tell me he can’t promise me a thing, all in the same breath.

“I never know what to believe with you, Dax. You’re a puzzle with no solution.”

His gaze darkens and he stalks over to me.

“Don’t,” he hisses.

“Don’t what?”

He looks into my eyes, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Don’t make out I’ve lied to you. I’ve never lied to you, Rose.”

“You just talk in riddles.” I snort.

He clasps my chin in a flash, leaning so close his breath warms my lips, and they part of their own accord. Traitors.

“I told you. My life. It’s fucked up,” he rasps.

“So is mine. That’s just an excuse. Just admit it. You don’t like me,” I say, stopping myself before I wince at how pathetic I sound.

His brows shoot up his forehead, and he falters, his head jerking backward.

“That’s what you think?”

“It’s what you tell me every time you go all weird and cryptic. Just forget it.” I try to twist out of his grasp, but his hand tightens on my chin, holding me in place.

“You came here to make your life better. Not to complicate it. What kind of person would I be to steal that chance from you?” He screws his face up, his eyes roaming all over me before coming back to hold mine. “I can’t touch you, Rose.” His chest heaves against mine as he hisses, lowering his lips so they brush against mine. “I can’t touch you. Even though all I want to do is fucking touch you. It’s all I think about night and day. It consumes me, Sunbeam. It fucking owns every moment.”

He breathes against my lips, so light, my brain barely registers it, before it’s gone. He steps back and shakes his head, looking at me in regret.

“Be ready to leave in half an hour.”

I’ve always wondered what the beach would look like in England. Whether it would be pebble or sand. This one is sand. A long, golden stretch of it along the coastline, with a giant pier housing a fairground reaching out into the rough sea.

I’ve been to the local town plenty of times now. But the lawyer Dax needed to see was here, further away. He drove us down as I stared out of the window, and he stayed silent. It wasn’t much better at the lawyer’s, with him only speaking about work things and the paperwork we had to sign. It was all a rush because there was an accident and we got stuck in traffic. They stayed open for us, but it’s already late, so we will probably be heading back soon.

I look along the sidewalk to where Dax is on the phone, his brow furrowed as he shakes his head, his body language tense as he stares at the ground and paces up and down. He looks up and locks eyes with me for a split second, then barks something into the phone and ends the call.

“The road is still gridlocked.” He walks to where I am sitting on a bench and turns, hands on his hips to look out at the sea. White crests swirl and crash against the base of the pier as the wind picks up more.

“A slow drive back, then?”

“We could get some dinner. It might give it time to clear.”

I look up at him. His hair matches the sand, golden and warm. But everything else is dark. His black suit, his black shirt, the closed expression on his face.

My stomach growls as if on cue and one side of Dax’s lips twitch.

“Dinner it is, then,” he says.

“Fine,” I mutter as I stand, smoothing my pencil skirt down over my hips.

We find a restaurant and eat together. I make small talk about work, which Dax engages with. But it’s stifling, sitting at a table with him, surrounded by couples and people on dates while we are sat like two total strangers, each not wanting to say what they are thinking to the other.

I walk out onto the sidewalk, sucking in the evening air in relief as Dax pays and we leave.

“You ready to go back?”

“Sure,” I reply, looking off up the street so I don’t have to meet his eyes.

“Rose.”

“What?” I snap, turning to face him.

He shakes his head, his eyes dropping to my lips.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? I’m not doing anything.”

“Why are you acting like you can’t stand to be around me? Ever since last night…” He lowers his voice and steps closer as a couple pass us. “You’ve been acting pissed at me.”

“Because I am pissed at you.”

“What did I do?” His eyes darken.

“You…” I search for the right words. You confuse me? You infuriate me? You turn me on like no one ever has before and it annoys me?

“Come here.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me down a small alleyway.

“What? Ow, Dax, that hurts.”

“Shh.” He presses his fingers to my mouth, and I stare at him as he pushes me against the wall, shielding my body with his as he cranes his neck, looking around the corner of the wall to the main street.

“Yes… yes. I know how to do it. I have Mr. Young’s file here.”

The voice grows closer.

I pull Dax’s hand away from my face. “Why are we—?”

“Be quiet,” he hisses, his eyes widening as the voice continues to increase in volume as whoever the guy talking on the phone is, gets closer.

“Shit,” Dax mutters underneath his breath.

“He was my mate. Not anymore. The fucker deserved it. Could have lost me my job… Yeah, well, he’ll heal. Number one rule, don’t steal the product.”

The man must be seconds away from passing the top of the alleyway where we are standing.

“Dax?” I whisper as he pulls his head back from the corner, his jaw tight as he presses his lips together and sucks in a sharp breath. “Do you know him—?”

Movement at the top of the alley catches my eye, and in a flash, Dax twists his body, turning his back to the man. Then he grabs my face in his hands and crashes his lips onto mine, pulling me into him.

I freeze as his warm lips connect with mine. But then my body takes over, and I part my lips, groaning into his mouth as I welcome his tongue to mine and sink my hands into his hair.

He kisses me with all the passion and dominance I expected a man like him to kiss with. His lips, his tongue, his breath, all mixed with mine in the perfect pressure that has heat pooling low down in my core and making my thighs clench together.

I whimper against his lips as he nips mine between his teeth, sucking in a breath and then kissing me hungrily again, his hand gripping my face and tilting it up toward him, so he has me exactly where he wants me. I press my breasts against his chest, my nipples tightening into painful peaks, aching for his attention.

“Dax…” I tug on his hair, pulling him closer.

And then suddenly I’m cold.

I slump back against the hard stone wall, panting, as he steps away from me and looks out of the alleyway again.

“He’s gone. That was close. Fuck,” Dax hisses, his attention gone from me as I grip onto the wall for support.

“Did you… did you kiss me because you didn’t want him to see you?” I pant, my heart hammering as he finally drags his eyes away from the street and back to mine. “Did you?” I snap.

“You don’t understand. That guy… if he’d seen you—”

“I don’t give a fuck!” I cry, shoving him in the chest as humiliation crashes over me like a wave, making my head spin. Here I am kissing him with everything I have and feeling things, feeling… And to him, it’s nothing. A tool to prevent him having to talk to someone he wants to avoid.

I shoulder-pass him out onto the street.

“Rose.” He grabs my arm, yanking me back against the wall and cages me between his arms.

“Let me go.” I shove at his chest again, but he doesn’t move.

“I can’t tell you why. But believe me when I say, if that guy saw you with me tonight, it could cause a whole fuck-ton of trouble that we don’t need.”

I search his face for clues as I lower my voice. “Who is he? Tell me.”

Dax holds my eyes, and for a moment, my heart lifts. He’s going to be honest with me. He’s going to say something that makes sense for once. He’s going to—

“He’s no one you should think about again, Rose.”

My stomach sinks and I shake my head in disgust. “Take me back. I want to go back to the cottage.”

Dax looks at me, his brow furrowed as he studies my face. But I can’t look him in the eye. I don’t want to. Not when all he’s going to do is hide the truth from me.

“If that’s what you want,” he says.

“What I want is for you to stop treating me like I’m helpless. You think I’m this broken girl who can’t do anything for herself. Who can’t cope with the truth.”

“I don’t,” Dax grits. “Believe me, I know how capable you are. I just don’t want you caught up in my shit.” He screws his face up and curses.

The back of my neck grows hot, and I take in a breath as my heart races with how close we are. I can’t believe my body is still reacting to him like this. Like it would swoon at his feet if he were to kiss me again.

Pathetic.

“You know what? That’s fine. Because I don’t care about it. I don’t care what shit you’re into. I am done trying to figure you out.” I duck under his arm and stride off up the street.

“Rose?” He falls into step beside me. “Rose. Please.”

“Please what?” I keep walking.

“Don’t be like this. I just want to keep you safe.”

Heat lances through my veins. He wants to keep me safe. It’s all about him. What Dax wants. What Dax says.

“You think I’m some hopeless loser,” I hiss. “You think I can’t handle anything. You’d wrap me in fucking cotton wool given the chance.”

“That’s not true… Rose.” His tone has taken on a darker edge, dripping in warning.

“No!” I grind to a halt and spin to face him. “I am sick of everyone else making decisions for me. Telling me what I need. What I should do. Treating me like I am damaged. I thought you were different.”

“I never told you I was.” He leans closer to me, his eyes falling to my lips and up again. And I hate the way my treacherous body still tingles under his gaze.

“Then I guess that makes me a fool.” I sneer.

He tips his head back to the sky with a curse. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just… You have to trust me when I tell you that I will do nothing but complicate your life.”

“Trust you?” I snort, anger bubbling in my gut. “Just like that? When you are literally telling me nothing that makes sense.”

I spin and stalk off up the street again. A neon light up ahead calls to me.

I need a drink. A strong one.

I walk straight past the doorman as he holds the door open for me, as Dax storms in behind me. I glance back in time to see him take some money out of his wallet and hand it to the woman at the reception desk we pass.

I thought this was a bar, but it must be a club if Dax has had to buy our entry.

I follow the sound of music to a set of double doors, a huge security guy on one side dressed all in black with a face like stone. I snort internally. Dax fits right in.

“Rose?” Dax snaps, trying to get me to stop.

I walk up to the doors and smile sweetly as the security guy holds them open and tells me to enjoy myself.

“I want to get a drink, Dax. Then you can drive us back and fuck off and do whatever it is you want to.”

I walk into the club and look around.

The lighting is low and sexy and has a red tinge to it. A long bar is to one side of the room, and various small booths and intimate cocktail tables with plush velvet chairs are spaced around.

In the center of the room is a stage. With a pole on it.

I dart my eyes around the tables and booths again. Women in small ribbons of material—silky, sequined, lacy—are walking around, stopping to talk to customers. Bending at the waist and exposing tight, toned legs as they whisper in the ears of those seated.

I stall, my legs freezing in place.

“You wanted a drink, Sunbeam,” Dax growls in my ear as he comes up behind me, so close that his breath fanning over my neck sends a shiver up my spine. “So let’s get one.”

I glance around, trying not to be obvious that I am staring at all the beautiful dancers with exposed flesh as Dax places his hand on my lower back and steers me toward a small booth.

I slide into the seat, and he sits opposite me, his expression dark as he leans back, watching me take in our surroundings.

“First time in a strip club?” He quirks a brow, a sinful smirk on his face.

He’s changed from moments ago. Because now he has the control. And the bastard knows it.

“No.” I scowl, even though it couldn’t be more obvious. I’m fed up with him thinking I am this helpless girl he must protect. A girl who can’t look after herself.

“Okay.” He nods at a waitress as she approaches, and she leans down so he can whisper in her ear.

Fire pricks at my veins as she giggles and places her hand on his chest before walking off.

I glare at him through slitted eyes as she returns and places two clear drinks down in front of us. Dax thanks her, but his eyes stay trained on mine.

“So. Not your first time then?” His eyes glitter as he stares at me.

He’s enjoying this. Jerk.

“Nu-uh.” I pick up my glass and down half of it, hiding the smile on my face as Aunt Iris’s blend hits my tongue, the lemon and tonic in the glass complimenting it perfectly. The last thing I want is for him to think I approve of him choosing my drinks for me, even if he does pick well.

Dax swirls the gin in his glass before taking a sip, his eyes on my face the entire time.

“You won’t mind if I buy a dance, then?”

“Be my guest,” I snort, sitting back and folding my arms over my chest.

“Good.” He smiles.

Images of me getting on my feet and slapping it off his face fill my head, and I smile back.

“Good,” I echo.

Stupid jerk. If he thinks I’m going to sit here and be bothered by one of these women grinding on him, he’s got another thing coming.

I do not care.

“Which one?” He tilts his chin, turning to look around the room.

I tear my eyes away from his neck tattoo and follow his gaze.

“How about her? The blonde with the big tits? I like blondes.”

I screw my nose up and shake my head as he smirks at me.

“Or what about her? The redhead in the leather dress? I bet she’s got some dirty moves.”

He sniggers as I scowl.

“You pick, Sunbeam. Tell me who you would choose.”

My body tenses at the challenge held in his darkened gaze.

“Fine,” I snap.

I look around the room. All the women here are beautiful. There are a mix of figures. Some curvier than others, some with huge breasts spilling from tiny skin-tight dresses. Others with smaller chests, and incredible toned abs on display in cutaway lace outfits.

“Her.”

I look over at the beautiful girl with porcelain skin and long, dark hair. It’s poker straight and shines like glass. She’s wearing less makeup than most of the other girls. She doesn’t need it. She has a natural beauty that makes her look better with less. And I like her outfit. It’s a pink silk fitted dress with a thigh high split and matching scarf. But the material is covered in black flowers and birds.

Similar to something else I’m drawn to, despite wanting to fight it more than ever tonight.

I look back at Dax as he purses his lips and sweeps his gaze over her appreciatively. Something acidic simmers low in my gut.

“Good choice, Sunbeam. She’s stunning.”

His words hit me like a whip.

Not sexy. Or hot. Stunning. He’s really going to enjoy this.

“Don’t close your eyes. Watching is the best part.” Dax smirks at me again and raises a finger, beckoning the girl over.

She slinks over. It’s the best way to describe the sensual rock of her hips with each step she takes as she comes to our booth and over to Dax. She leans down until her lips are practically touching his, and then she turns her head, and her lips brush his ear as she whispers something.

He turns and smiles at her, all perfect white teeth, his eyes holding hers, then he tips his chin, inviting her to lean closer so he can whisper something in her ear.

She smiles and nods as I sit glued to my seat on the other side of the booth. I’m going to have to sit and watch Dax have a lap dance from this gorgeous woman, no doubt getting a raging hard-on as she climbs all over him. He’s going to let her get closer to him than he ever lets me.

Sourness creeps over my tongue, so I pick up my glass and drain the rest of my drink.

The dancer turns away from Dax and walks over to me. I stare at her as she drops to her knees in front of me.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“Hi,” I reply.

“He said he wants me to dance for you. Is that okay?”

I look over her shoulder. Dax’s eyes pinch at the corners, and he spreads both arms across the back of the booth seat as he places me under an intense gaze. A muscle tenses in his jaw and he inhales slowly through his nose. Waiting.

Does he think I’ll say no? Stay safely trapped in my helpless bubble where I don’t do anything.

I look back into her eyes. They’re a beautiful rich green.

“Yes. It’s okay. If it’s okay with you, I mean.”

She giggles and places her hands on my thighs. “It’s okay with me. I’m Midnight.”

“I’m Rose.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

She smiles at me. “That’s a pretty name. Do you mind if I lift your skirt a little? It helps me to dance if I can widen your legs.”

“Oh. Sure.” I look down at my tight pencil skirt. Of all the days I choose not to wear one of my short, flippy skirts, it would be today.

Midnight slowly slides both hands up from my ankles, stroking my skin. As she reaches the hem of my skirt, she pushes it up over my thighs.

“Lift,” she purrs. And I obey, rising from the seat a little so she can slide it right to the top of my thighs. “You have amazing legs,” she says as she slowly unwraps the silk scarf from around her neck and places it between my legs where my skirt has been pushed right up. “No one can see. But just in case.” She winks.

“Thank you,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes from her as she rises to her feet between my legs and slowly begins to rotate her hips to the music.

She dances as though her beautiful, elegant limbs are connected to the music. Turning and swaying, her hair swishing and dusting a heady, floral perfume around us as she moves. I can totally get why people pay to watch now. She’s hypnotic, and that’s not even taking in the fact that she’s going to take her clothes off any moment. It’s the way she’s moving just for me, her eyes holding mine whenever she’s facing me. Like this moment is all for me. She is focused on me and my pleasure.

She smiles and then turns her back to me, reaching up with pink glossy nails, and slowly easing the zipper on her dress down until the top of a thin lace thong is visible. Then she spins to face me again and lets her dress drop to the floor, stepping out of it.

My lips part as I stare at her.

Dax is right. She is stunning. Her breasts are round and perfect with pale pink nipples, and her hips curve out, the pink lace of her thong worn high on them, accentuating her waist.

“Have you ever had a dance from a girl before?” Midnight asks as she twirls slowly in front of me and then leans close, rolling her body down over mine.

I follow her every move with my eyes, loving the way she moves so freely, so seductively, so confidently.

“No,” I whisper as she rolls against me again, bringing her breasts level with my face.

“Well, thank you for letting me be your first.” She smiles as her hair falls onto my blouse, some of it touching the bare skin where my top buttons are unfastened. It caresses my skin in one fluid move as she rolls up again and then slowly places one leg, then the other, either side of me on the seat so she is straddling me.

I keep my hands down, my palms flat against the sides of my thighs as my breathing quickens.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay if you touch me by accident. It’s just not allowed as a general rule.”

“Oh, okay.” I nod, relaxing a little as she hovers in my lap, rolling her hips slowly and exploring her body with her hands, roaming from her hips up to her breasts and squeezing them, then sliding them back down again and dipping them inside her panties.

She moans softly and then takes her hand out and slides off my lap, standing up between my spread thighs and spinning around.

She hooks her thumbs under each side of her lace thong and bends in half, sliding it off and giving me a full face-height view of her perfectly smooth pink pussy. Then she straightens up and lowers herself back onto my lap, facing away from me, where she continues to roll her body as she rests her back against my chest.

“Do you and your boyfriend come to clubs a lot together?”

She runs her hands up and strokes both breasts, arching her back away from me, before dropping it back down and writhing on me gently. Her skin is soft and smells of the same heady floral perfume.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss,” I say as she hooks one leg over my thigh and spreads hers, placing her hand between them and stroking herself.

“That’s why he hasn’t taken his eyes off you this entire time, then. Because he wants you but can’t have you.” Midnight giggles softly and I glance up.

Dax is watching me, his eyes burning with a deeper intensity even for him. Midnight is spread open, naked, and touching herself on my lap. But Dax’s eyes are dark and fixed on mine as if she isn’t even here. His tongue slowly darts out, licking along his lower lip, so subtle it could be easily missed. Heat spreads in my cheeks as he watches me. I take a deep breath, becoming aware of Midnight as she moves away from me and retrieves her dress, slipping it back on.

I break Dax’s gaze and look up at her, handing her the scarf and gently pulling my skirt back down.

“You’re a beautiful dancer.”

She bends down and dusts my cheek with a soft kiss.

“And you were a pleasure to dance for.” She glances to Dax and back. “Enjoy the rest of the night with your boss.” She smiles and then walks past Dax. He holds up some folded notes in one hand and Midnight plucks them from his fingers as she leaves.

I stare after her, energy dancing in my stomach.

“You looked like you enjoyed that.”

“I did. She’s beautiful,” I confess as I bring my eyes back to meet his.

He stands and holds his hand out to me. I hesitate before taking it and let him pull me to my feet.

“Did you like watching her?” I breathe as I stand and come face-to-face with him.

His voice lowers. “You know the answer to that.”

“She was naked.” I bite my bottom lip, narrowing my eyes at him. “So naked.”

“And she may as well have been a fucking trucker called Keith for all I care,” he growls.

I tilt my head and study him. “Why did you pay her to dance for me, then? If you weren’t interested in watching her.”

“Because, Sunbeam,” he murmurs, low and gravelly in my face, “I wanted to see what you look like when you’re turned on. I wanted to see if your cheeks would flush like they are now. I wanted to see if your lips would part and go a deeper shade of pink like they are now. I wanted to watch you and imagine if your cunt was dripping and if you could feel your pulse beating in it.” His chest rises and falls with labored breaths. “I wanted to see it so I can imagine it when I’m in bed tonight.”

I gasp quietly, and he turns his face away from me with a soulless chuckle. When he looks back, he pins me in place with glittering eyes.

“Is that what you want to hear? That I want you so fucking much when I look at you? But know I can’t ever have you? Is it?” He leans into me, pressing his lips to my ear, sounding out each word slowly. “I’m more trapped than when I was in fucking jail.”

“Dax?” The air leaves my lungs as he pulls back, and I catch a hint of the haunted look on his face before he masks it with a scowl. “Dax? This is… I don’t understand. Please. Talk to me.” I search his eyes, but he just glances at me and then tightens his grip on my hand. “Where are we going?”

“You wanted to go back,” he grunts. “So I’m taking you back.”

We walk back to the car in silence and Dax drives us back with the radio playing. The entire time, my head spins so hard that I’m dizzy and confused by the time he drops me back at the cottage. I climb out into the night air and walk to the front door. He won’t leave until he sees that I’m safely inside.

I pause as I unlock it. Maybe this was his plan all along. Distract me with a lap dance so I didn’t ask any more questions about the man we saw, and why he pulled me into the alley to avoid him. Why he kissed me.

But it backfired on him because I pushed him. I always push him. I feed off getting a reaction from him. Because it’s the only way I know he feels something. He can’t deny me that. He may be hiding things from me. But when I push him, he can’t hide the way his body reacts to mine. The same way mine does to his.

And now I know Dax feels it as much as I do, I intend to push him more. I’m fed up being treated like I’m fragile. Having everyone else tell me what I need. I want to scream. I am so sick of it.

Fighting with him makes me feel something other than guilt for a change. I thought him being tender, and all the intimate moments we’ve shared meant something. But now I’m questioning whether I imagined them. Whether it was all an illusion.

But I do know this. Fighting with Dax stops me from feeling like a failure. The one who screwed everything up.

If that’s all he will give me, then I’m taking it.

Fighting with him is all I have right now.

I step through the front door and resist the urge to look back at him before I close it.