Page 28 of Undertow

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“It’s true. We both know it’s true. Now, thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely. I’m glad you enjoyed the show, and I appreciate the cameras, but I really have to go.”

I try to brush past him, but Hayden grabs my arm, halting my departure.

I look up at him, wordlessly requesting release.

He looks back, wordlessly denying it. “Tomorrow, then.”

His hard tone brooks no arguments, but I give him one, anyway.

“No.”

His eyes narrow. “I told you I want to see you again.”

I tug at my arm, but he doesn’t let go. “And I told you I’m not interested in dating.”

“We aren’t dating. We’re just spending time together. Preferably without clothes on, but I’m flexible.”

“Hayden…” I tug my arm again.

His grip tightens. “I’m not releasing you until you agree to see me again.”

“We are in public,” I remind him.

“I don’t care.”

He may not, but I do.

I cast a subtle glance at the people around us, hoping no one notices this brute holding my arm prisoner until I relent and give him his way.

The biggest problem is, a part of mewantsto relent.

His hand locked around my arm reminds me of last night, the way his hands felt on my body. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since a man touched me, and never one like this.

Maybe one more “date” wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“If I meet you tomorrow, we need to agree it’s the last time.”

“If you agree to meet me tomorrow, I’ll release your arm and let you leave. That’s all the ground I’m willing to cede at the moment.”

“Why?”

His eyes seem to darken. “Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

The truth is simple but hard to hear at the same time. I swallow, my stomach knotting up at the ominous way it sounds.

I won’t say I’m not finished withhimbecause I would’ve been done with him already if I had my way.

I’m not entirely averse to the idea of him fucking me again, though. Especially when he holds my arm like this and gazes at me with that hungry look in his eyes.

“One more night. That’s all I’ll agree to.”

His grip on my arm loosens, and I tug it free.

He didn’t grip my arm hard enough to hurt me, but I still rub it, feeling the absence of his touch immediately.

“Tomorrow,” he says immovably. “I’m off, and so are you.”

I don’t know how he knows that. I didn’t tell him. “Fine. What time?”


Tags: Sam Mariano Romance