“First of all, I am not a liar,” I snap. “Second of all, no, he doesn’t know about what we did, but there’s a reason for that—”
“And that is?” he interrupts.
Does he really deserve an explanation? It’s obvious what he thinks of me, I’m just a conquest to him. He finds me funny and just wants to get his dick wet. After he does, he’ll be done with me; he’ll give me back the Bentley and I’ll never hear from him again.
He doesn’t deserve the truth, but I also don’t want him to think that I’m just some cheating whore who does whatever she wants.
“My adopted mom is forcing me to marry him.”
For a second, what I say registers on his face, but then he quickly shakes his head and chuckles.
“Uh huh. An arranged marriage? What is this, the 1700s?”
“It’s true!” I protest. “If I don’t marry him, I’ll—”
I stop. I glare back at him. He doesn’t want to know all this. What does he care? He basically kidnapped me the other night to try and get in my pants; he’s not going to empathize with my situation.
“Forget it,” I tell him. “You don’t have to believe me.”
“Hey,” he shrugs. “You sure act like royalty. Maybe rich girls like you still get married off to other rich guys. What would I know? I’m just a small-town mechanic.”
“More like, what do you care?” I counter, turning away. I grab the door to the cake shop and start to pull it open, but Chase grabs me and presses me up against the wall.
“What do you think I am?” he asks, his voice low. “Some scumbag ladies’ man that just wants to get his dick wet?”
“Chase, I—”
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“You should know something about me, princess,” he growls. “I don’t go around sticking my dick in everything that walks. Okay? I’m not a fucking dog.”
“Oh, you’re not?”
He shakes his head and gives me a look I’ve yet to see from him.
“You don’t lie, princess? Well, neither do I,” he says. “And I mean it when I say I am not a dog.”
His eyes seem to grip me, hold me in place. I can’t move. I search his face for dishonesty, but find none. But…what is he saying? That he wants me for more than a quickie? That it’s not just about some male ego thing?
No. It can’t be. But I guess there’s only one way to find out.
“Okay, Mr. Noble Mechanic,” I say back. “You say you’re not a dog? There’s more to this than just you wanting to stick your big dick into me?”
“That’s what I’m fucking saying,” he growls.
“Fine! Then come to my house for dinner tonight,” I tell him with a smile. “It’s on Robertson’s Lake. Down Cherry Lane, the private drive. You know where that is?”
“Of course I know where that is.”
“Good,” I smile, pressing my body against his. I can feel his bulge between my thighs and the feeling it gives me. “Then come by tonight – this evening – and show me that you’re not all talk.”
I push his big arm out of my way and pull open the door to the cake shop.
“Oh, and by the way,” I say back to him, “stop calling me princess. My name is Nicky!”
Leaving him with that, I step back inside, my insides ablaze with the heat of our encounter. That’s what it feels to be set on fire by a man! I try to control my excitement as I get back to the cake tasting. I really don’t think he’ll show up tonight, but if he does…well, then everything’s going to change.
7