Page 71 of Stolen Empire
"I want my freedom. That's the deal."
"Is it?" He tilts his head.
"Because from where I am sitting, you're getting too comfortable. You're starting to care about this operation. About proving yourself to me."
"I'm not," I say defensively, yanking the wire out of my top and throwing it onto the table.
It clunks and slides, almost falling off the edge on the other side.
"You are." He stands and takes a step toward me.
"And that terrifies you."
I don't move at first, uncertain about his motives.
Yesterday was so hot, the way he pinned me to the wall and fingered me.
And I knew my body was ready.
I was so wet. But he backed off, refused to take it.
It wasn't a test.
I wasn't trying to push him.
Things just escalated.
But I can't stop thinking about it.
I wanted him.
"You don’t know what you're talking about."
Trying to keep my movements casual so he doesn't get the chance to read me again, I rise slowly and reach for the vodka, but he moves faster.
"I know exactly what I'm talking about."
He closes the distance, stopping in front of me.
"You're good at this—at lying, at playing roles, at reading people. And you're starting to realize that you don’t hate working for me."
"Fuck you," I spit, but there's no true heat behind it.
Dimitri is like a puppy where I'm concerned.
I'm beginning to think he'll never really follow through on threats to harm me if I try to run.
If I've read him right, and I think I have, he's obsessed with me.
For now, that means I live in a window of opportunity to take what I want.
If that obsession turns, I may be in danger, but I don’t think I'm out of the sweet spot yet.
"You already did."
His growls excite me.
"And you would do it again if I asked."
