Pennies (Dollar #1)(50)

I wanted to slap myself.

For a fleeting second, Mr. Prest stroked my shoulder before he settled back against the headboard. “Well, shit. I guess I won’t hear you talk, after all.”





WELL THAT FUCKING backfired.

I hadn’t planned to give her the option to speak to her past, it just sort of happened. One moment, my phone was something so common, a tool I used every hour, of every day. The next, it was the holy f*cking elixir for this delicate creature who trembled as if it could turn into a portal and carry her far away.

My hands curled into tight fists. “Who did you call?”

Her head bowed deeper into the mattress. The hard as a bloody rock mattress. Not only was she beaten—shadows marking her face and every inch of her body—but her one place of comfort would grant yet more torture.

My mind ran riot with who she called. Her father? Brother? Boyfriend? Who the f*ck hadn’t been there for her when she finally had the opportunity to ask for help?

Don’t be such a f*cking hypocrite.

I had no right to despise her past loved ones for not saving her when I was about to do exactly what all the men in her present had done. I should give her another chance—let her ring the police.

Be better than those who imprisoned her.

That thought ought to stop me.

But it wouldn’t.

Not after I’d touched her breast and my skin had detonated like the weapons I dealt in. I knew myself, and I knew my limits. I could walk away from other temptations before it grew too strong to be ignored. But I doubted I could walk away from her without taking what I needed.

“Sit up…,gir—Pim.” I fixed my mistake. When I’d called her ‘girl’ before, her ripple of indignation had given me a clue. She hated being owned but wanted to belong to a name.

An interesting contradiction, layering her with yet more secrets I needed to steal.

I held my breath, waiting to see if her despair would override my command.

It didn’t.

Slowly, her spine unfurled like a f*cking tempting flower, raising her shoulders, bending her neck, followed by her rageful, sorrowful face.

I hadn’t lied about being around other silent ones in order to gain talents elsewhere. I’d been initiated into such a sanction.

From the day I arrived to the day I left in disgrace, the masters never spoke, expecting us to know exactly what they wanted. I’d learned another language, becoming more than bilingual but multilingual, understanding the nuances of eyebrows, reading hints from muscle shadows. I called on those skills the longer I was in her presence.

Clearing my throat, I glanced around the room. It hadn’t slipped my attention that she’d stared at the corners as I fastened the door. This entire f*cking house was rigged up to its window panes in security feeds and cameras.

I might have bartered for an uninterrupted night, but I wouldn’t get it. Alrik wouldn’t stay true to his word. And the thought of being naked and balls deep in his slave—vulnerable and surprised—wasn’t something I planned to let happen.

The moment Pimlico rested upright on her knees, I said, “Forget the phone. No one else exists but us.”

Her eyes flickered but she stopped her inner thoughts from shading her completely.

“In this room, there is no past or future, just the present. All you need to do is behave, and I’ll treat you better than the others.”

Her jaw tightened.

“Don’t believe me?”

The twitch of her chin gave her reply.

“You don’t have to believe me. I’ll prove it.” Shifting onto my knees, I mimicked her position. Unlike her, my joints didn’t pop with reluctance. My body was honed, trained, and treated like a priceless tool because that was what it was.

Yet you want to risk your health by f*cking this girl.

Well, that and I wanted something more.

I wanted into her damn mind…and if I had to hurt her to achieve that.

I would.





I FROZE AS Mr. Prest balanced on his kneecaps before me.

His suit rustled as he reached out and placed large hands on my shoulders. His eyes dropped to my breasts as if the obstruction of the white dress didn’t hide what lay beneath.

I tensed, waiting for him to touch me there again. However, his fingers tightened on my skeletal upper arms, adding pressure until I teetered unwillingly.

I fought him, doing my best to ignore his push.

What the hell is he doing?

“First thing I want from you is…” He shoved me, smiling as I sprawled sideways with my hands splayed to catch my fall and legs locked together. “…stop sitting like that.”

Like what?

Like a woman who doesn’t have a choice?

Almost as if he heard my snark, he once again put pressure on my shoulders, forcing me onto my back. “Relax.”

No chance.

I squirmed upright, wincing at the pain and the throbbing bones in my hand.

I didn’t trust him not to punch me in the stomach or take advantage of my body when spread out.

He didn’t let me clamber up, pinning me to the mattress with his fingers around my throat.

Let me go.

I stopped breathing.

My muscles locked.

The provocation of touching me there hurtled me into a whirlpool of horror.

He’s touching my neck.