Chapter Six
Yasmin’s phone buzzed under her pillow, warning her she needed to get up for her shift at the diner. She groaned and rolled to her side, only to encounter a wall of muscle. Then she remembered she’d gotten fired at her old job thanks to busting Larry out. Hell, she’d done plenty to save her dad, including giving herself up to the kingpin—exceptthathadn’t been such a bad thing.
She dared open her eyes, turning to find Carver’s icy blue eyes on her. Yasmin cleared her throat and grabbed her phone to turn off the alarm.Wow.She’d forgotten just how big he was. Even in bed, naked, he looked imposing, a force to be reckoned with, a guy few people could fuck with.
He reached out, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers before brushing his hand down the curve of her shoulder, and then he gave her left breast a squeeze. Just the contact of his fingers against the sensitive skin made her nipples harden. She became aware of how close she lay to him and groaned when he pressed his curving cock against her belly.
“How long have you been watching me?” she asked.
“Long enough. Asleep, you really look like an angel, not the spitfire you were yesterday.”
She blushed, recalling how easily she’d lost control, how she’d mounted him and begged for more as he fucked her against his kitchen wall. Until yesterday, she hadn’t known that side of her existed. It both scared and thrilled her a little. Screw those men who called her boring.
“Carver, I need to know. What am I to you? Am I, like, your mistress or something? What do you exactly expect from me?” Yasmin kept her promises and took responsibility for her actions. She wouldn’t run, and sex with Carver yesterday had been explosive, nothing like she ever experienced before, but she needed to know her place in the scheme of things.
“I’m not married, so you can’t be my mistress.”
She expelled a breath. “Come on, no teasing.”
“You only need to know one thing, angel. You’re mine, and that means you can do whatever you want. Forget your old life. You’ve slaved enough to save a man who doesn’t give a damn about you.”
Yasmin told him the truth. “This is all overwhelming, like having the ground ripped from under me, you understand?”
“If I tell you now what I want from you, I’ll only risk scaring you away. I can’t have that. I told myself I can give you space, let you leave if you chose, but after yesterday, that’s no longer possible.”
Carver pressed a kiss to her lips, and a sigh escaped her lips. Yasmin remembered how he easily made her body sing and yearned to feel him take control again, but she shook her head. She needed to have this conversation out.
“Why is it no longer possible?” she asked.
“I’ve been watching you for years, Yasmin. Kept tabs on your every movement, waiting for the time you’d come back to me.”
She blinked, wondering if she misheard him. Carver did what? He had the means of course, and the connections to do whatever the hell he wanted, but his obsession with her took her aback. Yasmin had no words. Why go to all that effort for someone like her? Yasmin was no one important. There were probably a million other women like her. What did he see in her, and why hadn’t she bolted away from him yet?
“There, now there are no secrets between us.”
“Carver,” she whispered. “You’re scaring me a little, but I need to know. Please answer my earlier question. What am I to you?”
“Fine. Ten years ago, you saved an up-and-coming ambitious monster. That’s your error, because I had two goals. To own this city and to possess you. You’re my woman, Yasmin, and I want my baby in you.”
Yasmin felt like she’d been sucker punched. Carver was crazy, but another part of her told her that wasn’t a bad deal at all. To have this sexy, possessive, and dangerous man be hers as much as she belonged to him—God. She shouldn’t be even considering it, and yet Carver wasn’t the only one. She’d always thought of him, been drawn to him, even ten years after that rainy and miserable day.
“I need to time to think,” she finally answered.
“You’ll stay?” He brushed a hand up her arm, his touch like a brand. He gave her shoulder a squeeze.
God forbid she wanted him to do so much more, to assert his dominance, except he merely rubbed her skin back and forth, stroking her the way one would do to a favorite pet. Own her. Those were his exact words. She shivered. A man like Carver didn’t do romance, but her life wasn’t a fairy tale either.
Was Carver even capable of love? She guessed she’d find out soon enough.
“I’ll stay.”
****
After Carver had left, Yasmin sat on the edge of the bed and replayed the conversation they had in her head. She balled her hands into fists. How did Carver expect her to react? That she’d jump at the prospect of becoming his—his whatever after he flat-out told her he’d been obsessed with her for years? Sitting around his place wouldn’t help. She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower.
Shoving her head under the shower, she closed her eyes. The water drenched her hair and coursed down her body, cooling her. She still ached from last night, but it was a delicious kind of ache. Yasmin thought of Carver’s powerful hands, gripping her hips hard while he pounded her against the wall. He hadn’t come out of that encounter unscathed either. She’d left little nail marks on his skin, too.
She’d marked her man, just as he did her. An involuntary shiver of anticipation rode down her spine.