“So much for being in love with me.”
My words fluster her. She straightens, reverting to lowering her lashes and studying the floor. This is the pose with her that gets me more than anything else. Ever since I decided she was walking through life, unfettered, and without anyone to navigate her course.
“Remember you told me that?” I press, to see how she responds.
“I am. I m-mean I’m in love with the rock star. Not you,” she whispers. “I don’t know you. I thought I did, but I don’t. You can’t love someone you don’t know.” She’s talking to the floor, squirming, and chewing the nail of her pinky.
“Why do you act like…?” A submissive, my head finishes. I rearrange my position on the sofa and place my elbows on my knees, searching for the right words to express myself.
Really? Moi?
Maitland fills them in for me. “When you talk to Sloane at certain times, your mannerisms automatically bestow power upon him.”
She lifts her stunning gaze to me. Undefinable purple layered with a deep shade of blue. “I don’t know why I do that.”
Her wavering look reveals the lie. Still, I understand why she does it and my temper rises at the knowledge. Shifting, I strive for a calm tone. “Crowell again, right?”
Her eyes flicker to me, then she nods.
“What did he want with you earlier?”
“To see me.”
“And?” I know there’s more.
“We were going to have sex before I got high. I’ve never had an orgasm sober.”
My dick hardens and I draw in a breath to control my lust. Most of all, though, I count to ten, twenty, fifty, to keep from grabbing her phone and fucking dealing with Crowell now.
Adam and I exchange glances, then we all look amongst one another. Before we can think of what to do, Georgie reveals something else.
“He sent me a text while I was dressing. He…he wants to take me to Nevada.”
Folding his arms, Kiln snorts and curses. “To fuck you or marry you?”
“I’m old enough to marry him without parental consent in the state of Nevada.” She dislikes Kiln, judging from the evil look in her eyes and her sour tone. At least, she has some sense of self-preservation. “He said he’d marry me to show me how much I mean to him as long as I see him.”
Nonplussed at her fervor, Kiln glances at me and I nod. I want her fucking phone. I want to read the fucking message myself. I’m both relieved and regretful we aren’t alone. She doesn’t need to talk about this in front of the guys, but we sure the fuck can’t be alone together.
Within moments, Kiln returns and hands me the phone. Georgie’s eyes widen when she sees it. She rushes forward in an attempt to reclaim it.
I get to my feet and hold it above my head.
“Fucking bastard,” she yells, hopping up and down uselessly.
I want her to have lied. I want her words to be a ploy for attention and to make me jealous.
Several texts have come from Crowell in the past hours. She hasn’t responded to one, but I’m going to pay that motherfucker a visit.
George, be my wife. We can drive or fly to Nevada. Your choice. We’ll wed and find a home there. I’ll keep you supplied with the best coke.
Where the fuck are you, George? I’ve never proposed to a girl in my life and you’re not fucking answering me now that I have? I won’t let you come for a fucking week.
This shit isn’t funny, Georgiana. You blew me off for that drug head asshole. I’ll bet my dick’s bigger than his. If you ever want me to feed it to you again, fucking answer me.
Straightening, I stare at her. She’s no longer using her legs as a pogo. Her eyes are huge and vulnerable, but I’m fucking shaking.
I’ve been in torture the past few hours, determined to behave and keep my hands off of her, when another asshole is luring her to fucking marry him to get her under his control.
This scenario is exactly my fucking point. Morals are useless. There’s always someone around who never has pangs of fucking conscience.
Her hand presses against my chest. “Sloane?”
Quint snatches her phone from my hand and I hear him suck in a breath. Kiln’s the last to read it. Unlike me, he doesn’t flinch, and shows no emotion. He does stare at her, though. It’s brutal and ugly and I add him to the list of fuckers to talk to where Georgie is concerned.
Another message comes through and she makes a grab for it. Kiln mimics me and raises it above his head.
“Your body responds to me,” he reads. “I have control of you the moment I touch you. This is your last chance. If you don’t respond, I’ll make you crawl before I forgive you.”
My head feels as if it’ll explode while Georgie scoots around Kiln and stumbles to the bar. I don’t interrupt as she pours herself J?germeister and downs it. The champagne I ordered is long gone. It was only one bottle for six alcohol lovers.