Dollars (Dollar #2)

He’d told me I was weak before. He told me I was broken. But that was to earn a reaction from me. This…it was just a statement of truth.

It ripped out my heart and threw it overboard as chum.

“Are you coming?” Elder stepped into the elevator, holding the doors as they tried to close. “Time to dress.”

Whatever heat he’d sparked simmered into smarting discord. I held my chin high and stalked into the lift.

The doors hissed closed, trapping every unsaid animosity and desire tight around us.

Elder exhaled through his nose, his gaze bouncing from the mirrored door to mine.

Don’t say anything.

Let me go to my room without another figurative slap in the face.

My request went unanswered. He lowered his jaw, watching me beneath his brow. The fact the mirror was a third party, linking our eyes while standing side by side didn’t stop the spiralling heat from rekindling and crackling all over again.

He breathed, “Last night was…interesting.”

I swallowed as his gaze dropped to the sheerness of my sheet. “It erased a few of your walls. We should do it again sometime.”

A strange intoxication filled my veins until I swore my blood had turned to wine, filtering through my heart, making it drunk.

My knees locked as he bit his lip, the mirror showing every etch of his face, every shadow of his throat and jaw.

How much longer would I have to stand in this electrifying torture chamber with him?

My nostrils flared as his hand moved to capture a corner of the sheet. He never turned to face me, but his face darkened. “Don’t hate me for what I said before. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I bowed my head. Not out of respect or acceptance of his so-called apology but because I couldn’t look at him anymore.

I couldn’t stare into ebony eyes and try to read what he kept hidden. It gave me a headache.

Agreeing to go to Morocco is a mistake.

“Look at me, Pimlico.” His fingers tugged the sheet, forcing my fists to tighten to keep it in place.

My face pointed at the sky with fake bravado, but I refused to meet his eyes.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

I shook with adrenaline but not fear. I’d been in his company long enough now not to expect a fist, but I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t pre-empt or stall whatever it was he was about to do.

What is he going to do?

His grip on the sheet turned aggressive. Yanking hard, he caught me by surprise, spinning me on my feet like a carousel. The white cotton escaped my broken hand while I held on with my other as tight as I could.

But it was no use.

Half-naked with the sheet draped over one shoulder, I crashed into Elder’s arms only for him to turn around and slam me against the mirrored wall.

My spine screamed as the bite of coldness activated the humming sensitivity in my body. I gasped as his face twisted into a tortured mask.

He breathed hard and harsh, my inhales and exhales in total sync with his as our eyes locked in shock.

“Goddammit.”

Goosebumps broke all over me as his hands suddenly landed on my shoulders, kneading me like a cat. His nose brushed mine as he bowed closer. “What is it about you that I can’t ignore? Why do you have this power over me?”

I daren’t move. Even though I couldn’t.

I didn’t know what he meant. The one with the power was him. Only him.

He bit his lip again as his fingers trailed from my shoulders to the hem of the sheet covering my left breast. My right was exposed, totally vulnerable to the brush of his chest just like our midnight swim.

I pursed my lips, fighting his control over the rest of my ill-conceived dress.

“Let go, Pim.” Ever so gentle but with a ruthless, lethal command, he tugged.

I fought, but he was stronger.

My fingers hurt as the rest of the cotton fell away, leaving me naked.

I should be glad. I preferred this state. Normally, I felt nothing when the air caressed my flesh. Nothing but freedom from suffocation. Only this time…this time with his hungry eyes and the pinot noir replacing my blood, I was too hot, too alive, too damn conscious of everything a body could do and everything mine had been forced to endure.

My bruises ached.

My nipples pebbled.

My bones throbbed.

But it was nothing compared to my heart. She enlisted that damn traitorous emotion I thought had died the day I was sold.

Lust.

Damn rotten lust that I wasn’t acquainted with and would never, ever tolerate. It was a sick, sick emotion. It caused men to buy young girls and break them. It turned rationality into insanity. It ended the lives of so many.

Stark fear sprang like a hare as his large hand cupped my hipbone, dragging me forward until his cock bruised my belly.

He groaned long and low.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the snap I knew would come. He’d spoken of giving me time—fixing me not raping me.

I’d begun to trust his promises.

I was stupid.

This was payment for all he’d done for me. I would shut up, shut down, and deal with it. I could handle it. I’d handled worse.