would have slept with me earlier when I was dancing for you and you know it. Not to mention what you just said to me in the bathroom.”
The side of his mouth twitched up into a grin, like I was a silly little girl who knew nothing about the world.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.
“Like what?” he asked, holding his hands up and feigning innocence.
“Like I’m a silly little girl who knows nothing about the world.”
The cocky grin immediately disappeared from his face. “I think you know plenty about the world.” His gaze dropped to my wrist, and I knew what he was thinking – that anyone who took a razor blade to their skin, who wanted to feel that pain in order to ground themselves in something, anything, must have been through some shit. But that was none of his business.
“It’s none of your business what I’ve been through,” I said.
“Fair enough.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment after that, and the silence stretched on for several moments. It was disarming. I wanted to say something, anything, just to end it, but that too felt like I was giving into him. And if there was one thing this silly little girl knew, it was that if you let someone think you were giving in, if you let them think you were weak, they would take advantage any chance they got.
I shivered, aware of the fact that I was still wearing just a thin t-shirt.
“You’re cold,” Colt said.
“No, I’m not.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He returned with a grey zip up hoodie, then stopped short just inside the door. He held it out to me, motioning for me to come get it. I took a step toward him, and his eyes raked over my body, lingering on my nipples, which were hard and visible through my t-shirt. Just like at the club, he made no excuses for the fact that he was openly staring at my body.
“Why don’t you take a picture, it will last longer,” I mumbled.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said, amused.
I turned around and slid my arms through the sweatshirt, then went to grab the zipper.
“It’s tricky,” he said, reaching around and grabbing it for me. “Sometimes it catches.” His chest was so broad, his hands so big, his body so strong, that it made me feel tiny in comparison. I closed my eyes as he did the zipper, letting the side of his hand slide over my breast as he did it. I knew he was trouble, I knew I barely knew him, but for some reason, in that moment, all I wanted to do was turn around and bury myself in his arms.
He’d told me that he could make me forget, and I believed him. Cutting had been my escape until now, a way to take the edge of and keep me from feeling things I didn’t want to feel. I’d avoided alcohol and drugs because I’d seen what they could do to people, so cutting had been my way of dealing.
In theory, I wasn’t opposed to losing myself in another person, through sex, lust, love, obsession, whatever. But if I was going to do it, it was going to be Declan. It had to be. He was the man I was going to give myself to.
And I’ve never been tempted by anyone else.
Until now.
I shrugged away from Colt, pulling the sweatshirt tighter around me.
“You shouldn’t have given me a sweatshirt with a messed up zipper,” I said.
“Sorry, Princess. I didn’t know you were so picky.”
“Is that a dig at the fact that I’m staying at a shelter? Because you’re not any better than me.” His sweatshirt was huge on me, and I pushed up the sleeves and pulled it tighter around me.
“Who said I was better than you?”
“Oh, please.” I folded my arms over my chest. Even with the extra security and padding of the sweatshirt, I felt a little too exposed, a little too vulnerable to his wandering eyes. “You’re rich.”
“Is that what you think? That I think I’m better than you because I have money?”
“Of course! Isn’t that why you brought me here?” Thinking about it now, saying the words out loud, I was starting to get angry. “Because you felt sorry for me? You saw I was wearing cheap clothes and that I was looking for a job as a stripper, so you just assumed I was poor. And then you somehow poked around in my personal, private business, which