“What position is that? What have I lied to you about?”
She shook her head, knowing she was straying perilously close to giving the truth away. “I’m helpless,” she shouted. “I’m sitting here like a fool, waiting to see what chess piece you decide to move. Waiting to see how it effects me.”
He pulled the car into an empty lot off the street, behind an old, abandoned building, and parked. “I don’t know what you think I should be telling you about my life,” he said. “But that isn’t part of the deal, and I’ve been upfront with you on that score.”
Ivy laughed wildly. “I guess that makes it okay, then.”
Cullen turned to face her. “Makes what okay?”
“That little bitch, Emma Marks, called me into her office before I left work and gave me an official warning for missing my data entry targets.”
“She did?” he asked, frowning. “Well, I’ll have a talk with her about that,” he muttered.
Ivy rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it.”
“I’m lost,” he said, exasperated. “What are we even discussing?”
“She made comments about how you get enthusiastic and passionate about people one day, and then turn around and forget about them the next. It was clear that she knows about you and me.”
Cullen gripped the steering wheel and his eyes searched away from her momentarily. “Perhaps she figured something out about your relationship with me,” he said. “But I don’t care what Emma Marks thinks about it.”
“And what about you and Emma?” Ivy retorted.
“What about us?”
“Were you together ever? Is that why she hates me so much?”
Cullen’s gaze shifted again. “I can’t say why she hates you,” he replied, but his tone wasn’t very convincing.
“Just admit you screwed her, Cullen.”
He finally met Ivy’s gaze. “A long time ago,” he said. “We had—“
“Fuck you,” Ivy said as she undid her seatbelt and went for the door, trying to open it so she could flee the car.
“Ivy,” he yelled, grabbing her arm from behind. “Do not leave this car.”
“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” she yelled, still struggling to open the door.
Cullen’s hand wrapped tightly around her arm, and then he was pulling her back towards him. Ivy felt her body reacting, getting turned on despite the anger she felt.
Only one man knew how to unlock her body with a single touch of his hand, and that was Cullen Sharpe.
The very same man who’d caused all of this madness in the first place.
It was a vicious cycle, but Ivy didn’t know what else to do. She let him manhandle her, turn her around so she was staring directly into his pitiless, beautiful blue eyes.
“You’re baiting me,” he said through grit teeth. “It’s like you want to make me so furious I can’t see straight.”
“You don’t know shit about what I want from you,” she replied, as his hands grabbed both her wrists while she struggled against him.
His muscular body pressed down upon her from the other seat, forcing her backwards. Her legs splayed up and her hip was wedged against the gearshift. Cullen forced her arms over her head as he stared down at her. “I can see your nipples are hard,” he said, “and your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils dilated.”
“So what?” she gasped. “I’m upset.”
“I bet if I touched your pussy right now, it would be drenched,” he told her.
Ivy began thrashing beneath him, as if trying to push him off. Of course, she knew it was pointless. But somehow she needed to do it, needed to fight. Needed to scream and yell and have him take control, because she was losing.
Losing control.
Losing everything.
Cullen managed to grab both her wrists with one hand, pinning them overhead, while his other hand grasped her breast over her blouse.
She cried out, moaning. “You’re a monster,” she whispered up at him.
His nostrils flared and his hand roamed down her side, finally landing on her zipper. He slowly, slowly unzipped her pants as her hips arched into him, and he revealed her tiny panties.
“I knew it,” he murmured, as he felt her panties, exploring with his fingertips. “You’re soaking wet.” His nostrils flared. “I can smell you.”
She could smell it, too. The scent of her own desperate sex, her need of him revealed, and there was no hiding it.
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Don’t beg,” he told her, as his fingers rubbed her mound over her panties.
She cried out and her hips lurched toward his hand. “Fuck me,” she said, finally.
“You don’t deserve to be fucked,” he told her.
“Then let me suck you off again,” she replied. “I’ll take it all, I promise. You can come in my mouth. Please. Please.” Her hips rotated again and again, as if to encourage him.
She could feel and see the bulge in his pants and knew he was excited too.
“I don’t know why I allow you to continually defy me,” he rasped. “It will not do.”
“Punish me, then,” she said.
“What?”