“I think so.”
His hand wrapped around mine, and I instantly became woozy again. Not from the blood loss or the cutting, but from Colt’s touch. I hated the effect he was having on me, hated that he could make me feel this way.
He’d kissed me, touched me, pushed me beyond anything I’d ever felt, beyond anything I’d ever even imagined I could feel for anyone besides Declan. And it made me both attracted to him and furious with him at the same time.
A rush of heat overtook me as I remembered what it had felt like, Colt’s tongue in my mouth, his hands on my body, the scent of his cologne, the faint taste of alcohol on his breath, how badly I’d wanted him inside of me.
I couldn’t help it. I wanted him to kiss me again.
And for one incredible moment, as I stood there facing him, his eyes searching mine, I was sure he was going to, was sure he was going to pull me toward him and crash his mouth into mine.
But instead, he shook his head.
“You’re done.”
“What?”
“That’s it. It’s over.”
“What’s over?”
“This.” He turned my hands over in his, looking at the bandages he’d just placed on me. His face softened, and I saw something in his eyes. Fear? Concern? I couldn’t be sure. “You’re not doing this anymore.” The soft look was gone from Colt’s face, and now all that was there was a steely determination.
“I’m not cutting myself anymore?” I repeated incredulously, and then laughed.
“No,” he said. “You’re not.” He picked up my bag, rummaged through it until he found my razors, then slid them into his back pocket. He hoisted himself up until he was sitting on the side of the desk, his legs dangling over the side. “That’s over, Olivia. I’m not fucking around.”
“You do realize that it’s not that easy, right?”
“It is.” He looked at me again, and a shiver ran up my spine. “You will not cut yourself again. Do you understand?”
Something about his tone, about how commanding he was being with me, made butterflies swarm my stomach. I thought about how he’d dressed me in my tiny little outfit, how he’d held my hands down at my sides and let his eyes rake up my body.
“You’re not in charge of me,” I said defiantly, raising my chin in the air, daring him to contradict me.
“Oh, I sure as hell am,” he said. He stood up and crossed the room to the bar in the corner, poured himself a drink and took a long gulp. He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe he was being forced to deal with me.
“No, you’re not,” I said.
“Jesus, Olivia, you sound like a child.”
“I sound like a child?” I said. “You’re the one you ran out of here when you found out I was a virgin. Talk about childish and immature.”
His hand tightened around the glass he was holding and I saw something akin to fury blazing in his eyes. But what did he think? That I was just not going to bring it up? Now that my immediate medical concerns had been taken care of, I was pissed.
How dare he send me such horribly mixed signals? He’d dressed me up in this skimpy outfit, he’d made it perfectly clear that he liked what he saw, and then he started kissing me, touching me, making me crazy with want for him.
And then once I decided to give him what he wanted, he stopped. Just because I was virgin? Talk about fucked up.
“I did you a favor,” Colt said. He took another long pull of his drink, draining the glass. “You don’t want your first time to be with me. Trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Because you just don’t.” He closed his eyes tight, and bent over the bar, resting his hands on the side as he hung his head for a moment. His broad shoulders looked tensed and knotted, and I had to resist the urge to go over there and comfort him.
I thought about what I’d seen in the office earlier, how I’d heard him fighting with his uncle, how Colt had slammed his hands against the desk. He looked like a lost kid now, instead of the sexy, confident man who’d held my hips earlier while I’d danced for him, telling me how to move, how to undress for him.
I took a step toward him, no longer able to keep myself from trying to provide some comfort to him the way he’d just done for me.
But before I could, Colt turned around.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re done as a cocktail waitress.”
“So you said.” I tipped my chin in the air. “I want to be paid for my time.” It was only fair. I’d worked here for the night, I should get the money that was due to me. I wondered how much it could be. A hundred bucks? A hundred bucks could last me a while. A hundred bucks was enough for a food and a few nights in a cheap motel until I could figure out what to do next.
“No.”
“No?” I blinked at him in disbelief. “That’s illegal.”
“You’ll get paid at the end of the week, for the week.”
I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ll be my secretary.”