Page 37 of Forbidden Eyes

A long sigh falls out of me, and I push my plate away to consider the best route forward. She doesn’t want to leave. What does she want then? More information? More time to see just what her family is? Or maybe just more time to work out how she’s going to confront her father. I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that one. Or maybe not given that I’m the one who gave her the information in the first place.

Fucking stupid.

I ask the waitress to make her milkshake and fries to go and pay the bill, unsure what the hell to do. If she wasn’t so goddamn appealing—taunting me every time I run my eyes over her, which is often—I'd push her away somehow. Send her the fuck home rather than constantly reminding myself of everything I can’t touch. But she’s not like the usual women I want to screw. When smarts started pouring from her mouth she lit up. There was a fire in her eyes, showing a glimpse of who she is, and that made her all the more appealing. Every time she looks at me with those big doe eyes my blood heats, winding me up and telling me to take what’s right in front of me. I can tell she feels the same, although she’s far too innocent to do anything about it, which is a fucking godsend.

I watch her lips moving, all the time imagining them wrapped around my dick, or my own lips on hers. It is a litany of indecent images. One after another. All of them bringing her down to the grit I still linger in sometimes rather than the high-gloss veneer she’s been enjoying.

Back rooms. Dirty floors. Chains, ropes.

Screams and pleas for less. For more.

“Thank you, sir,” the waitress says, breaking me from my thoughts.

I nod and keep looking at Fia as I push out through the door. Chilled nighttime air hits me the moment I’m through it, and I frown at the thought of her being cold. She’s sitting in the dirt now, back still resting against the car and fingers trailing circles in the dust.

Good.

That’s what it feels like out here in the real world where Daddy doesn’t pay for everything. A hard dose of reality might shift her thinking a bit, make her understand what having nothing is like.

“Not getting your own way?” I question, beeping the car alarm.

She doesn’t move at all. She does sniff again, though, and for whatever reason that pisses me off. I set the takeout milkshake on the roof and walk around in front of her, eyes downcast. Pretty blue dress, cut up feet, all dusty from the dirt she’s been stamping on. There’s something real about her now. Something more honest than before.

“You gonna get up?”

“No. Screw you.”

I smirk at her attitude, and I look away to bite the inside of my cheek before I do something I shouldn’t. It would be so easy. Lift her. Kiss her. Fuck her. I could do it here, bend her over the hood and enjoy driving myself into her until I stop that mouth having any comeback at all.

“Fia, get up off the ground. I haven’t got time for your shit.”

There is a scrabble of limbs then she’s up and in my face before I know it’s happened.

“Screw you, Carter. Honestly… just… screw you,” she spits, arms flailing around. “All of this is your fault. All of it!”

The fuck it is.

I back off a step, giving myself some room, and watch as she paces the lot.

“I never would have known if you hadn’t taken me there, and then I wouldn’t have been…" She pauses, "I wouldn’t have been taken to that hellhole with those men and this…” She points at her chest, tapping the gauze. “I mean, what the hell just happened? And now I've got to what? Deal with it somehow? As if it's normal? You, it's all you. Everything is changing because of you and your…"

My head quirks, wondering where she's gonna take those last words because if she keeps on with this line of thought I might just, well ...

“And now what? What do I do? Tell me. Jesus Christ. He’s manipulated me my entire life and now he’s going to turn something I’m passionate about into another way to make money from the lives he’s already ruined. Look at this place,” she says, waving her hands at the burger joint. “I’m here because you made me see that. And I’ve ended up on the floor crying, cuts on my feet and slash marks on my… I’m a fucking mess, Carter, and it’s all your fault, and this deal, and—”

“We’re here because you couldn’t keep your prissy little mouth closed. Close it this time before I lose my shit.”

Her mouth snaps closed, but not before I see that Vico-fucking-venom flare across her features. Everything explodes in an instant. Her arms move, both of them aimed at me in fucking attack mode. I wait for something to land. Whatever it is, I’m ready for it this time, and the second she lunges, I grab at her wrist and spin her back to the car without any fucking care for her back slamming against it. Air puffs from her lips, a small yelp coming with the force of my body covering her. She struggles fiercely, one arm braced out by my hand and the other trying to push me away.

It’s too fucking close, and I can feel my dick waking up at the friction between us. I can smell her, almost taste her on my lips. Her continued struggle does nothing to dampen my thoughts as my other hand catches hold of her wrist and my leg braces her.

“Stay the fuck still before I hurt you.”

So close. Eyes. Mouth. Breasts squashed up between us. I look down at her lips, licking my own until her struggle becomes less violent.

I shouldn’t.

Won’t.

---