Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(42)

He waited, heartbeat after heartbeat, for an answer as my mind reeled. I’d already kissed him. What did it matter now?

I feared I was rationalizing the choice just to get me one step closer to what I wanted—which was to have the advantage over this arrogant and powerful man.

“Whatever,” I said breathlessly.

He crushed his lips to mine before the word was all the way spoken, and took control instantly, tongue diving inside, hand cupping my head to tilt me where he wanted.

Hell no. I buried both hands in his hair, wrapped one leg around his hip, and pulled him where I wanted him. His lips curved into a smile beneath mine, and I didn’t care. He needed to know who was in charge.

I yanked away from the kiss. “Don’t think this means I like you,” I said, panting a breath.

Titan brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face. “I wouldn’t dream of assuming such a thing.” He laughed. “You just want my dick and the orgasms it can give you. Consider me put in my place, Yve.”

“Exactly.”

He leaned close again, and my heart rate kicked up in anticipation. But he didn’t kiss me this time. No, he just said, “But don’t think you won’t beg. We’ll find even ground, and it’ll be when you’re beneath me, taking my cock so deep you don’t remember what it’s like not to be filled by me.”

Oh, sweet baby Jesus. My insides liquefied. I wanted that. Now.

“I guess we’ll see,” I said, lifting my chin. “You can leave your number on your way out.”

Titan smirked and pushed off the back wall. “You’re a stubborn woman. Never knew that was so goddamn sexy before. I’ll be waiting for your call, Yve. Don’t take too long, or I’ll come looking for you.”

As he turned and walked away, my gaze was glued to his ass. All I could wonder was why I hadn’t gotten two good handfuls of that while I’d been kissing him.

This was probably the worst idea I’d ever had. But damned if it wasn’t going to be the most fun.

Unlike with Kevin, I had no qualms about feelings getting involved when it came to Titan. He had no heart, and didn’t want anything from me. That made it safer. Right?

I reached down and picked the box up off the ground.

Time to see what Santa Claus Kevin had brought me today.




I didn’t venture back into the main part of the shop until I heard the door chime three different times. Just in case. When I reached the counter, JP had just finished ringing up a sale and was handing one of our signature bags across the counter to a customer.

“I hope you enjoy that skirt. It’s going to look amazing with the blouse you told me about. If you need anything else, just come back and see us.”

Her smile was wide and genuine, and she looked like she fit behind the counter more than anyone had since Charlie. I mentally apologized to Elle, but there was something about a tattooed and pierced spitfire working at Dirty Dog that just seemed right.

She turned to me without wasting a moment. “So, who was that tall, dark, and I’d f*ck him in broad daylight and risk the indecent exposure charges handsome guy?”

Yep. She fit right in.

“He was nobody.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, Nobody left something for you.”

Good boy, Titan. Way to follow orders, I cooed mentally as if he were a puppy. He’d want to strangle me for that, or bend me over and spank my ass. Which I’d probably like.

“Oh yeah?”

JP reached out and snatched a card off the counter. Handing it over, she pouted. “You’re really not going to tell me who this guy is? I mean, now that I’ve seen his card, I can Google him, but friends tell each other this stuff, Yve.”

Her words, particularly the word friends, struck me. “You’ve worked here for a day, and you’ve already decided we’re friends?”

JP re-crossed her arms. “I don’t see any other awesome help around here. Besides, I’m in the market for another friend. Last one turned out to be a bitch who stole my clothes and didn’t give them back. At least if we were friends and if I keep working here, I’ll know where my clothes are if you steal them, and I’ll steal yours back too because they’re bound to be kick-ass.”

I could barely keep up with the girl. “One day at a time, girly.”

I looked down at the card. Beneath his office number was another phone number written in that bold handwriting I already recognized. I assumed it was his cell phone.

Then I flipped the card over. What was written on the back surprised me.

You have a 9 a.m. appointment tomorrow at the NOLA Entrepreneur Fund.

Don’t be late. Bring your business plan.

What the hell?

I remembered our encounter in the bank and the loan officer who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Titan knew I wanted Dirty Dog, knew I needed capital, so he’d just gone ahead and set up an appointment for me at the place I was considering trying to make an appointment to get a grant?

I wanted to be pissed at his high-handedness. I wanted to tear up the business card and throw it in the trash because of his ridiculous presumption. But I didn’t, because I wanted Dirty Dog more. I grabbed my purse and tucked the card in my wallet. I wouldn’t cut off my nose to spite my face, but that didn’t mean I was going to thank him with a celebratory blow job or anything.