Demand (Careless Whispers #2)(39)

He wraps me in his arms and presses his cheek to mine. “And what if I don’t want to f*ck you? What if I want to make love to you, Ella?”

I lean back to look at him, and in his eyes, the starkness of moments before is now tenderness and passion. There is an open door I needed so damn bad tonight. “Can we do both?”

“We will do both.” He brushes his lips over mine, a whisper of a touch I feel everywhere, and I wish he were touching me now, not later. “Many times,” he adds, seeming to reluctantly release me, before inching up his sleeve to check the time. But this time, instead of seeing the watch, it’s the Hawk beneath it that has my attention, reminding me of the bracelet yet to be revealed.

“We need to get moving,” he says, draping his arm around my shoulders and heading toward the main foyer. “Chief Donati will be there tonight and I don’t want us to miss him.”

“Please tell me Gallo won’t be there, too,” I say as we cross the foyer.

“He won’t,” he says, opening the door leading to the garage and allowing me to enter the stairwell and start down the narrow path.

“This event is by VIP invitation only,” he adds following me down, “and mostly high-ranking politicians, elected officials, and all their cronies.”

“Does that make us their cronies?” I ask over my shoulder.

“That makes us their biggest wish they’ll never get.” He catches up with me and opens the garage door for me. “And that’s power, sweetheart. You’ll see that at the party.”

On that note, I enter the surprisingly warm, well-lit garage and see the ridiculously expensive shiny blue Pagani Zonda that ironically, considering the statement he just made, was given to him as payment for a job. “Why is the police chief’s presence tonight so important?” I ask when he steps to my side. “Is it about the favor you owe him?”

“It’s about the favor he won’t get if he doesn’t keep Gallo away from you. Which car, sweetheart?” he asks, indicating the four F-TYPE Jags lined up on the opposite side of the garage.

“I love the ice blue,” I say, “but black feels very James Bond, like you in that tuxedo.”

He laughs and walks to the rack of keys on the wall. “Just call me 007, sweetheart. And since we’re talking cars, we need to get you one of your choosing soon.”

“No, thank you,” I say as we walk toward the black Jag. “I don’t want to drive on roads the size of sidewalks, in a car worth more than some people make in a year.”

“If you scrape it up, we’ll fix it,” he says, dismissing my concern.

“Jags are not meant to be scraped up and fixed. And I know these cars are your pride and joy.”

He opens the passenger door for me. “I couldn’t give a flying f*ck about these cars. They’re metal. They’re replaceable. And they are not you. I’ll put a driver on call for you until you change your mind.” He opens the passenger door for me. “Then you can come and go as you please without the confines of what’s walkable. Let me put your coat in the trunk.” He takes it from me, already clicking the key chain and moving away.

But I’m not thinking about the coat. I’m not thinking about cars. My mind flickers with a memory, and I flatten my hand on the roof of the car. I know why I’d been tied to that bed for two hours, why I’d been punished, and it shakes me to the core. I’d gone shopping without permission. Who was I then? Why would I allow anyone to treat me like that?

“What are my boundaries?” I call out to Kayden, not even sure where the word boundaries comes from.

He returns and steps in front of me. “In bed or out, sweetheart?”

“Kayden. I’m serious.”

“As am I. In bed, you always have the ultimate power, no matter how much I seem to claim for myself. Out of bed, safety dictates everything.”

“Can I really come and go as I please? Because it didn’t seem like it today.”

“Today was complicated, and in hindsight, I handled it like shit and I’m sorry.”

The apology, spoken by a man I do not think apologizes to anyone, surprises me in all of the right ways.

“In explanation, not defense,” he continues, “Gallo talking trash about me to you f*cked with my head. And I don’t let much f*ck with my head. You are not a prisoner, nor have you ever been. You are not my captive, nor do I want you to be. But protecting you isn’t just a desire. If you’re to be here with me, it’s a need. I need you safe.” He closes the small space between us and lifts my hand from on top of the car, revealing the bracelet, but he doesn’t look at it. He looks at me, holding my stare, and letting me see the truth in his words. “This sends a powerful message to anyone who is, or who would be, my enemy. It says if they so much as look at you wrong, I will kill them. It says that you are mine, and even Niccolo will think twice before he touches The Hawk’s woman.”

“Your woman,” I repeat, heat radiating up my arm from where he holds me. “Is that what I am?”

“Not until you say you are. Not until you wear the bracelet by choice, not public need. I want nothing you don’t give me freely, Ella.”

“The bracelet tells the world that you own me,” I repeat, a tight knot of emotion in my chest. “Does it tell them that I own you?”