My mouth dropped open. “You blame me for Harvey being shot? That’s so fucked up, do you know that?”
“No, what’s fucked up is that you’re now being passed on to me like my brother’s leftovers.”
My cheeks burned. “I’m not his leftovers. We never even...”
He laughed, but the sound was cold. “See, you’re just a girl. Didn’t even screw my brother. Did you fuck anyone yet? Or have I been lumbered with some totally inexperienced excuse for a wife.”
“I’m not totally inexperienced. There have been boys—I mean, men—in my life before you came along.”
Admittedly, we hadn’t got much past the heated kissing and groping hands stage, but I blamed that on who my father was, and not on my lack of wanting to stay virginal. None of them had wanted to take Marlon Wynter’s daughter’s V-card, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. I had the feeling Tam wasn’t going to be overly worried about what my father would say, though.
A smirk crossed his lips. “Fine then. Prove it. Show me you’re all woman. Get undressed.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re going to be my wife, so I want to know what I’ve got to work with. Get undressed.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“You want to rethink that comment?”
I bit my tongue. If I didn’t do as he asked, he’d send me back home, and then where would I be? My father would be furious. Did I fear my father’s wrath more than I feared my potential husband’s touch? I felt like I’d been thrown centuries back in time.
I wasn’t self-conscious about my body. I was tall and slim enough, but still with curves. My skin was pale, though, and I’d have liked to have had a few less freckles across my chest. If I’d been stone-cold sober, I most likely would have told him to bugger off, but since I had a belly full of champagne and a point to prove, I decided to run with it.
Glaring at him, I pulled my strappy top over my head, leaving me in my bra. It was no different to being in a bikini at the beach or by the pool—at least, that was what I was telling myself. I kept my shoulders back and my chin raised and stared him right in the eye to show him how little he was affecting me.
“Keep going.”
“You’re a fucking prick, do you know that?” I might not be able to tell him I didn’t want him, but I could still tell him what I thought of him.
“Absolutely, sweetheart. I’ve never made out to be anything else.”
I dropped my hands to the button of my jeans, popped it open, and undid the zip. I wriggled the material down my hips and legs, and then kicked the jeans away, leaving me standing there in my matching coral bra and knickers.
He walked over to me, where he paced a slow circle around me. I clenched my hands into fists by my sides. He was making me feel like a fucking farm animal at auction.
Tam was behind me now, and his presence burned into my skin. I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body poised for his next move. He swept my long hair away from my neck and leaned in, his breath hot on my shoulder, then he slid my bra strap down my arm and placed his lips to the spot where the strap had been.
A whimper escaped me, and I mentally kicked myself for it. I had to stay strong. I had to show him that I was neither inexperienced nor a little girl, and that I was more than capable of being Tam Cornell’s wife.
He dragged both straps down my arms and peeled the lacy cups from my breasts, exposing me to the cool air. My nipples crinkled at the chill, but then the warmth of his palms covered them. I froze under his touch, my breath held.
He cupped my tits as though weighing them, and then he pinched my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and squeezing. Little sharp shocks of pain went through me but seemed to flood down to my lower belly and spread in a heat between my thighs.
Another sound escaped my lips, but this time it was different, a low sigh rather than a whimper.
“You like that, huh?” Tam said.
I didn’t miss the smugness of his tone.
“I like it, too,” he finished.
He jammed himself hard up against my backside, ensuring I was fully aware of the effect feeling me up had on him. His cock was hard and felt impossibly big against me. I remembered watching him in the shower, and the impression I’d got of his size. Was this it now? Was he going to fuck me? Nerves flittered in my stomach. Would it hurt?
“Let’s see how tight this pussy is. Whatever you say, I bet it’s never had a cock in it. Has it had fingers, Hallie? Men’s fingers? Or just your own?”
I didn’t feel like I could lie to him. “Just my own,” I admitted.