Crave (Billionaire Bachelors Club #1)(34)

Ugh.

His words enflame me, filling me with both lust and anger. I really hate that I still want him. “You’re a bastard,” I say through clenched teeth before I turn and head toward the door, desperate to escape the suddenly too warm, too confining restaurant.

I hear him call my name. Hear his chair scrape across the floor as he stands and starts to come after me. But I refuse to look back. Choose to ignore the hostess who’s calling after me that she still has my coat.

Pushing open the door, I step out into the dark night, deeply breathing the cool air. A flash goes off in my face, I swear I hear them call Archer’s name, and I head in the opposite direction, avoiding the paparazzi at all costs. How could I forget they follow Archer everywhere?

God. My head is spinning, and not just from the wine. The stupid photographer is just the tip of my overwhelming iceberg—that Archer demands I work for him. Going above my head to ensure I have no choice but to work for him is infuriating. Never mind that we had sex and he has to bring it up. Like he’s trying to use that night against me. I could blame it on the champagne I drank too much of, I suppose.

So freaking embarrassing.

Worse? I know I would’ve done it without the champagne. I can’t blame too much alcohol on my one night with Archer. I was completely sober.

But he’s an ass**le. A controlling, arrogant jerk who thinks I’m some sort of spineless, stupid girl. I wish I could refuse him but he’s effectively trapped me. And why didn’t Sharon talk to me about this? I can’t quite wrap my head around how he made all of this happen and so quickly.

He’s just that powerful, that influential to gain the things—or people—he wants with a simple phone call or snap of his fingers.

Not knowing which way to go, I turn right, heading blindly into the night. Cars pass by, I hear the loud rumble of a city bus as it speeds down the street, and I blink hard, my strides quick, my heart pumping like crazy. A shiver moves through me and I rub my arms with my hands, wishing I had my coat. It’s a total favorite; I love that jacket and I’m pissed I left it in the restaurant like an idiot.

God, he’s so distracting, it’s unfair. Why did he have to be so gorgeous? So freaking irresistible?

I increase my pace, furious at my thoughts. I can hear him right now, following behind me, his determined steps hitting the sidewalk, his huffs of aggravation.

Good. I’m irritating him. Glad to know the feeling is mutual. I need to get away from him.

Far, far away.

“Ivy.” The man is as tall as a god with legs as long as my entire body, meaning he easily catches up with me. His strong fingers clamp around my upper arm and he turns me so I face him. “Don’t run away from me.”

His words are spoken as a demand. “Let me go.” I struggle against his hold and he tightens his fingers, making it impossible to escape.

Archer pulls me in close, his body heat wrapping around me, his potent scent filling my head, making me weak. “Stop fighting this.”

I need my willpower to kick in. It has to or I’ll never survive him. “There’s no ‘this’ to fight. I’m not helping you.”

Archer looks downright offended at my words. “You don’t have a choice. I need you.”

“You don’t need me. I’m just an easy target.” The urge to punch him comes over me, stronger than ever. He has the advantage, knowing how easily I react to him. He’s not above using it against me fully either. “I hate that you’ve done this,” I murmur.

“Why?” His voice is deceptively soft. As persuasive as his fingers stroking my lower back, he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Like I’m some sort of cat he can pet and stroke and ease under his spell. I was strong enough before to send him away, to walk away on my own. But am I strong enough now? Can I resist him again? I don’t know.

“You’ve already fooled me once.” Not really, but it sounds good. We fooled each other. “I shouldn’t let it happen again.”

Reaching out, I rest my hand on his chest, desperate to push him away. It’s as if my fingers have a mind of their own, though. I curl them into the soft, smooth fabric of his sweater, feeling the steely strength of him just beneath. A trembling sigh leaves me, and I keep my gaze locked on my hand, afraid to look at him. Afraid he’ll see everything I feel for him reflected in my eyes.

“I was fooling myself,” he finally says as he touches my cheek, slipping his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my head up. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I frown. Did I hear him right? Did Archer just admit he’d done something wrong? “Well, you did.”

Our gazes hold for long, quiet moments heavy with tension. I want to run. Break free of him once and for all and pretend this night never happened. Yet another part of me wants to stay. Wants to agree to what he’s asking me. Maybe then I can get one of two things.

Either I can convince Archer we’re truly meant to be. Or finally get him out of my system once and for all.

Archer

IVY’S FINGERS STILL grip my sweater, her innocent touch driving me f**king wild with wanting her. Holding her close, she fits against me perfectly, as if she were made for me. It was like this between us last time. The moment I pulled her into my arms, it was like we were two pieces of a puzzle that finally clicked together.

Half the reason I’d been scared shitless before. Still. No other woman feels this . . . right in my arms. And I haven’t even kissed her yet. It feels damn good just to hold her, which is ridiculous because I don’t need to just hold a woman.