By a thread

She squeezed her eyes closed tight. “I’m yours,” she whimpered.

Wet didn’t begin to describe Ally. She was a goddamn rainforest, and I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to throw her down and eat her out. To flip her over and slam into her from behind. I wanted her in missionary and up against a wall. In every conceivable position. I wanted to take years discovering all the ways I could make her come. My own personal treasure hunt.

It was a religious experience. A spiritual awakening as I filled this woman with my seed.Fulfilling my destiny and branding her as mine just as she’d carved her initials into my heart.My life would never be the same. I was never letting her go. No matter what.

Her laugh untied knots in my chest that I didn’t know I had.And I knew I wasn’t going back to before.Before tonight.Before I saw the bruises on her face.Before I knew what Ally felt like from the inside out.Before she could laugh naked under me.I wasn’t physically capable of it.

I wanted to know everything there was to know about this woman.

“Look, I know it’s not the Four Seasons,” she snapped.“The Four Seasons? This isn’t even a burned-out hull of a roach motel frequented by toothless prostitutes and meth-addicted johns. You’re not staying here.”

I watched as she grabbed the paper towels and liberally sprayed the spot where only hours ago, we’d fucked like horny teenagers.For some reason, it struck me as funny, and I laughed.Ally raised an eyebrow in my direction. Brownie lifted his head out of his bowl and stared at me, head cocked. Had I never laughed in front of my dog before? Was I really that soulless?

I was asking her to trust me when I hadn’t ever given her a reason to. But I needed her to have faith in me.

When she moved, I flinched, and a smug smile spread across her face just a second before she slipped her arms around my waist. I was used to the bickering, the banter, but this physical affection was… different. Plus, I’d been in fear for my balls.

She would live here. She would have anything and everything she needed. No one would ever take advantage of her or lay a hand on her ever again. End of fucking story. I was her Prince Fucking Charming.

Having her in my arms, in my bed, felt foreign. Familiar. Right. Wrong. And everything in between.

“Just don’t worry about this thing today. Whatever they decide, we’ll figure out a way that I can still see you naked and you can still pay your bills.”“And they say romance is dead,”

Professional manner? He must not have mentioned me watching him masturbate in his office after-hours or me giving him a lap dance in his disclosure document.

“Five minutes, and then we abandon these people so I can fuck you in the car,” he whispered in my ear.“An hour,” I countered.Those blue eyes narrowed on me. “Thirty minutes, and you take your underwear off in the restroom so we don’t waste any time later.”I licked my lips, and he followed the motion. “Deal.”His expression softened, lips lifted. “Look at us negotiating.”“And they say relationships are hard,” I joked.

“I love that you want me this badly.” He grunted his confession in my ear. “You’re always so wet like you’ve been thinking about me as much as I think about you.”“I do,” I promised.I did. I would have been willing to bet more.

“Oh, and we need a celebrity couple name. How do you like the sound of Alominic?”I sighed. “Eat your pasta, weirdo.”

Did I want her, or did I want to be needed?

“Faith, this is Christian. Christian, this is Faith. You two have a lot in common. You both spend a lot of time around mostly naked, beautiful people for a living.”Christian raised an eyebrow. “Model?”“Strip club owner. Plastic surgeon?” she shot back.“Designer.”

My heart physically hurt with happiness.

She gave me a terrifying smile and cracked me right across the face with her open palm. Ally didn’t bitch-slap, but Faith did it like it was an Olympic sport and she was a gold medalist.