Page 78 of Edge of Heaven

I’m not changing clothes.

Wearing a short dress with no panties isn’t the end of the world—I’ll do that before I sleep with the guys in his band—but I never know where he’ll draw the line of me defying him.

“Why are you still wearing the shorts?” he demands. “Put on the dress, lose the panties, and let’s go.”

Well, I guess that’s that.

It’s going to be a long night.

“No panties at all. Ever. You understand me? Your pussy is going to be available to me whenever and wherever I want it.”

I don’t respond as I pull off my top.

“Lose the bra too.”

I unsnap the back and toss it aside as I pull a short gold lame dress from my suitcase.

“That’s better.” He watches as I change. “Now those shoes.” He points to a pair of gold stilettos that he knows kill my feet.

But I put them on without a word.

“See?” He smiles. “Things are so much easier when you just do what I tell you.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you in public,” I say quietly. “You can’t afford to get arrested again either.”

“You’ll have sex with me when I tell you to,” he grunts, but he doesn’t press the point and I know by the expression on his face he grudgingly accepts that I’m right. I heard the band’s label reaming them for the drug bust, warning them that this isn’t something they can sweep under the rug. From what I understand, it’s going to cost them a fortune in legal fees to get out of this, so at least he’s being rational.

Rational for Callum.

“Leaving me would be a mistake,” he says in a gruff voice as we exit the hotel room.

“You’re the one who said I’m leaving,” I say, hoping to deflect. “I never said that.”

“I’m not stupid, Taryn. And you pretty much just admitted it.”

“I said you’re mean and don’t treat me right sometimes. Why can’t you be the way you were when we first started dating?”

He bursts out laughing. “The honeymoon period is a fantasy, baby doll. This is real life. Nobody has time for that romantic bullshit. Life is hard. Nobody gets anything for free. You think my success wasn’t without sacrifice? This life I lead is fucking hard. You don’t get a pass because you have a pretty face and a tight cunt. I can get pussy anywhere. You should be honored I chose you.”

Honored? That’s laughable, though I don’t, of course.

“And frankly, why should anything be easier for you than it was for me?”

I’m not sure how to respond to that since I have no idea what he’s talking about. He’s never talked about his childhood much, and the band did pay their dues in the beginning, but how is that different from most bands?

“You think because you’re a woman you’re going to find some guy to take care of you, and you did. And I have. It just pisses me off that you don’t want to take care of me. That’s why I’m mean to you.”

“I’m sorry I won’t live out all your sexual fantasies,” I say softly. “But if that’s what you consider the most important thing in a relationship, then I’m not sure what to say.”

“You should say thank you.”

I have. Dozens of times. But it doesn’t seem prudent to point that out.

“No visits home this month,” he continues. “If you’re going to leave anyway, I’m going to get every ounce of pleasure out of you until you do.”

I want to cry but that won’t solve anything.

The one good thing about this is that it makes me steel my resolve to get out as soon as possible. I can probably survive one more month, but I don’t think I have it in me to stick around for two.

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