Fuck, she was killing him. But this lesson had to take precedence. He might not respect her choice to come here for money, but he refused to let her believe he saw her as a whore.
Shaking his head, he tried not to soften in the face of her entreating stare. “You’re my submissive and my wife.”
“Yes, but—”
“No,” he corrected. “I have not touched another woman since our wedding night. And to set the record straight, if I intended to use you simply for my pleasure, nothing would have stopped me from f**king you right now, especially not the resentment you’d feel afterward. I want you to think about that, Mrs. Denning. I’ll be back.”
Chapter Four
The door shut behind Jason, enclosing Gia in his bedroom by herself. His words hung in the silent room and reverberated through her body. His sudden absence made her feel ridiculously alone, but having him gone didn’t stop her body from throbbing for what only he could give her. With her br**sts bare and her pu**y exposed, she couldn’t not be aware of her naked vulnerability. Nor could she seem to pry her heart from her throat.
What the hell was going on?
As a police officer, the idea of being restrained in a man’s bedroom somewhat against her will should bother her. But Jason had relegated her to a desk because he didn’t want her hurt or killed hunting down Tony’s killer. Her husband would never physically harm her. On the other hand, he would very likely make her heart bleed—as if she hadn’t already been suffering since their separation.
If he hadn’t aroused her just now with the purpose of wringing every bit of his money’s worth from her body, then why had he touched her? To prove he could rev up her libido? Or something entirely different? Everything about his behavior in the last twenty-four hours confused her. She’d assumed that he wanted a divorce and that he sought to make her pay with her body before he paid in cash. Now…she wasn’t sure. If he’d brought her here merely to use her before he began legally shedding her, why would he insist he’d been faithful? Or speak her married name so emphatically, like he meant to underscore the fact that, at least on paper, she was still his wife.
Once, she’d believed that he loved her. He’d never said the words, but what he lacked in verbal affection he’d more than made up for in a hundred other ways, like his romantic, over-the-top proposal. Like remembering that she loved stargazer lilies and having huge bouquets stuffed with them at their last-minute wedding.
Like having chocolate mousse for her tonight?
Gia closed her eyes. Why couldn’t everything be different? The night she and Jason had married, she’d been on top of the world. He’d been the most dashing groom. Somehow, in less than twenty-four hours, he’d seen to every detail of their elegant ceremony. He’d even had a selection of insanely beautiful wedding dresses delivered to her door so she could pick one and have it hemmed or tucked as needed.
That night, she’d been Cinderella at the ball, swept into his glittering world for an enchanted evening, fooling herself into imagining that she belonged beside him. Her phone ringing with the news of Tony’s murder had been her clock striking midnight. Reality had ripped her from fantasy. Suddenly, she’d realized that her brother was gone forever, her parents didn’t know she had a husband, and she had a mountain of responsibilities that weren’t going to go away simply because she’d been foolish enough to marry a man she couldn’t keep.
When she’d forced herself to let go of Jason mentally, Gia had been sure he would forget her within a month or two. Six at most. But nearly a year later, he seemed resistant to the idea of releasing her for good.
Was it possible he still cared?
Gia glanced at the clock. He’d only been gone ten minutes. Somehow, it felt like a week. But that wasn’t new. For unending months after their marriage, being away from Jason hadn’t been a mere ache, but a plague—a ceaseless yearning that had hounded her days and haunted her nights. After just a little taste of him tonight, the need thrumming inside her, demanding to be close to him was twenty times worse.
What was she going to do about their marriage? As much as she still had feelings for him, she didn’t see how she could toss aside her common sense again. But even if the two of them living happily ever after was a fantasy, the thought of letting him go again made her heart constrict.
The door opened, abruptly ending her thoughts. Automatically, she curled her legs up to her chest to hide as much of her nudity as possible.
Jason quirked a brow. “Lower them.”
He stood stock-still until she complied, flattening them on the bed once more and revealing her br**sts.
“Spread them,” he demanded.
She dug deep to tamp down anger—and the even more insidious arousal. No way could she let him know. Already, she’d begged him. Stupid move. Jason had so much command over her. Tipping her hand and revealing how much she wanted her husband would only give him more.
Still, she couldn’t stop her trembling as she parted her thighs. His stare immediately dropped to her sex, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She stung with both desire and shame.
“Excellent. More mousse?” he asked, sauntering to the nightstand and taking the crystal dish in hand.
The chocolate was scrumptious. Since Jason could usually take or leave anything sugary, she suspected he’d had someone whip up the dessert for her. The surprising gesture was sweet—a word few associated with him. But Gia had seen that side of him before and knew it existed. Yes, he’d been an ass tonight, but she had expected as much. He was angry and hurt, and she bore most of the guilt for their faltering marriage. Throwing his thoughtfulness in his face now would only be juvenile.
“Yes, please.”
He relaxed, as if pleasantly surprised that she hadn’t rebuffed him. Then again, after months of rejection, why should he have expected anything else from her? Guilt gnawed at Gia again.
“Open up.” Jason sat on the edge of the bed and spooned up some of the mousse, then brought the heaping chocolate toward her mouth.
Willingly, she opened for him, cradling all the goodness on her tongue while he fed her. The independent woman in her probably shouldn’t like this, but why lie? Sometimes, he could be so attentive, even tender, that she simply melted.
In silence, he lifted one bite after the other onto her tongue until she’d swallowed the last of it. Gia couldn’t contain the happy little sigh that escaped her throat. “Thank you. That was incredible.”