by Leah Holt
And my stomach would churn when he talked to me with such power, such intention, such strength.
How was I supposed to react to him?
It was hard for me to just willingly move forward, throw flirts his way, and see what he sent back. But he was sending them, even without me reciprocating the edge to his sexy words.
In my head, things were being said, sassy remarks were sitting there on the tip of my tongue, but that's where they stayed.
I clammed up, unable to push them out into his ear. But Kash kept sending them, the remarks getting more and more alluring. More and more...
Enticing. I want to meet his mark.
I want to make him beg for me.
Kash had to be used to having what he deemed his. Everything he said, everything he did, all the ways he gently touched me; he was a man who got what he wanted.
Except, he hasn't been with a girl like me. I don't play by his rules, I won't play by his rules.
I wasn't that girl anymore.
When I painted the old Willow away, I let the new Willow shine through.
Finish what he started?
And what would make him think I was that easy?
“Ha!” I laughed out loud. “Is that what you think?”
“That's what I know.”
The young waiter briskly walked up to the table, carrying a silver bucket filled with ice, and a bottle of champagne. “Ace of Spades Green, Sir. Just like you requested.”
Holding his glass out, Kash's eyes deepened with the waiter's presence. “Willow, would you like some?”
“Yeah, with the way you're talking...” Grabbing my glass, I held it up. “I'll need a whole lot more of this.”
“Are you challenging me?”
“What?” Shaking my head, my lips went taut. “How does that sound like a challenge?”
“It seems to me that you think the alcohol will help ease the night for the you, because you're afraid of me.”
“I'm not afraid of you.”
I'm afraid of failing, afraid of losing, afraid of myself.
“Then what are you afraid of?”
“I'm not on trial here, I don't have to tell you a thing.”
“No you don't have to, but it would be nice to get to know the woman with my tag on her leg. You interest me, and I don't know why. But I like it.”
“I'm not interesting, trust me. I'm far from it, to be honest.” Sipping my drink, the tiny bubbles popped against the base of my lip, tickling my nose.
“If you're not interesting, then why do I want to know about you? You need to stop underestimating yourself, Willow.”
“I don't underestimate myself, I do—”
Holding his hand up, Kash stopped me mid sentence. “Yes, yes you do. I can see it, I can feel it. You don't believe in yourself at all, and it's sad.”
“Can we not put my personality on trial, and just talk about what we originally were supposed to?”
“Right, deflecting is something you do best. Change the subject so your discomfort doesn't hit a hundred on the Richter scale.”
“Why are you such an ass sometimes?”
“I'm not an ass just because I call you out on the truth. I'm just not afraid, not like you. I know what I want, I know where I'm going in life. You...” Smiling, he laughed softly under his breath. “You don't have a fucking clue what you want, do you?”
“How dare you? You don't know me.” My head snapped up, chin holding high in the air.
“So let me get to know you. Tell me about yourself, answer all my questions so I can decide that for myself.”
“Why should I give you anything? You couldn't even give me a fair chance earlier today, you treated it like a joke, like I was an object you wanted to take home.”
“And that's bad? I already own you, getting you home is the fun part.”
Own me!?
I don't think so, I'm not his property.
“Well, let me make this easy for you, I'm not going anywhere with you.” Stuffing my arms under each other, my chest shot out.
What an asshole, to sit and say he owns me. I'm not for sale, I'm not an object he can just claim as his.
I searched my tattoo, looked it over long and hard, and I didn't see anything that resembled his name.
Nothing.
“You say that now, but if you give me a chance, I'll give you the same. And that includes your art gallery. I can give you it all, Willow, you just need to let me.”
“I knew this was a bad idea.” My heart froze, tarnishing with the desire he forced into my core, and disintegrating to the loss of my dream.
Kash slid around the booth, the heat from his body wrapping around my shoulders and blanketing my waist. A single finger glided over my thigh, teasing the slit in my dress.
Well, his dress... I didn't buy it, he did. I could never afford a garment like that.
A chill broke across my spine, snapping me straight. The tender touch buzzed across my body, melting my insides. “Tell me, Willow, when I stained your skin, did you enjoy it as much as I did?” His finger dipped under the hem, drawing small circles over the tingling flesh. Inching higher, his words stabbed my lungs. “When I slipped my finger deep inside, did you feel it?”
I clammed up, my tongue staying dormant and unusable in my mouth.
“When I called you mine... Did you feel it?”
Clearing my throat, I ran a hand through my hair. “What's your point, Kash?” Twisting to look at him, the strands fell in my face, curving over my cheek.
Brushing them away, Kash let out an air-filled moan. “Does everything need to have a purpose? Can't something just be?”
“Everything in life has a purpose, that's just how it is.”
Circling his finger over the rim of the glass, he let his eyes study the liquid inside. “Did you notice it yet?”
“Notice what?”
“My mark?” Pulling the fabric to the side, he stared at the image his hand carved into my thigh.
“No, I still have no idea what you're talking about. There's nothing there, just the picture.”
I wanted to scoot away, build space between us and raise a stone wall. But I couldn't move, he kept me locked in place with just his presence. I was turned on, angry, excited, ready...
God I was so ready.
No. Not him, not after everything he said, everything he did.
“Look closer.” His fingertips walked over the colors, gently scratching the area that had started to drive me crazy.
Another side effect that was left out. The annoying, endless itch that came early yesterday morning. It was driving me nuts, but thanks to Google, I learned not to actually scratch it.
I also learned that it was going to flake and peel, and to not pull off the shedding ink. But the healing process was gross, I'd been finding bits of darkened skin stuck to my clothes, and washing it was a whole other process.
Luckily, washing it gave me some form of relief from the intense throbbing that reminded me of having chicken pox as a kid. Even though in reality I wanted to scratch the shit out of the damn thing.
Staring down, I ran my eyes over every inch of the tree, and still I saw nothing. “Will you just tell me where it is? I'm tired of trying to figure it out.”
His smile swelled across his face, teeth biting down on the tip of his tongue. His eyes fell to my thigh, finger tracing over the scars in the bark. His hand swirled a darkened line, dipping into two blackened dents in the trunk.
My face flushed, brows lifting in one swoop to my forehead. There it was, right in front of my face, hidden in the hardened skin of the tree. The same symbol from all the paintings I had seen in his shop, the same design that was pressed onto the paper.
His signature, his mark. The large looping circle with two prominent dots was engraved right in the center of my thigh.
How did I not see that?
Goosebumps charged over my body, my skin heated like I had just been covered in hot coals.
There it
was, plain as day, etched onto my body right under my nose.
I could feel his eyes eating up my reaction, taking my shock and letting it fuel his ego.
My jaw crooked, hands trembling with a touch of anger, a hint of arousal. Kash was making me question everything about myself, and now this?
How could he?
How could he be so obtuse to think he had the right to sign my skin with his name?
Jackass! What a fucking asshole!
“How could you do that?” My hand whipped out, grabbing the drink like a dagger and slamming it to my lips like it was my heart.
“Because you're interesting, and I decided you were mine.”
Shaking my head, I could feel my brain pulsing with rage. I wanted to run away, let my legs free me from the prison he was trying to keep me in.
But my lungs were reeling in a desire that I couldn't understand. Because he wanted me.
He wanted me, not Beth, not some socialite, not a woman with legs that ran for miles, or a body that caused unaided drooling.
Kash said he wanted me. Of all the women he could have, or has had, he wanted me.
My thighs were tight, chest heaving small gulps of air, locking eyes on him I said, “Why me?”
“Why not?”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“What if I told you I didn't know why, what if I told you it was because of what I felt and not what I thought.”
“I... I...” Stumbling on my words, I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure exactly what I was feeling, or thinking, or wanted.
Yes you do. You want him.
You want Kash.
But you can't have him. Letting someone get too close would only result in pain. They would leave, the ones you let in to steal and hold your heart always did.
I knew that, felt that.
I didn't deserve to be loved, I was never good enough for that.
Exhaling a labored breath, I let my head fall towards my chest. “I need to go.” Standing quickly, I focused on my feet, and putting one foot in front of the other.
“Willow, don't run away.”
My natural instinct took over, forcing my head and legs to do the one thing I knew would save me from that type of hurt.
I didn't look back, I ran. I ran as far away as I could, I ran from him, ran from what he was saying, ran from what I was feeling.
I ran. Just like I always did, running freed me.
Freed me from my past, freed me from my present.
And it freed me from my future.
I ran.
Chapter Sixteen
Kash
I'm not letting her go.
No fucking way.
Not Willow, not ever.
I branded her, she's mine.
Sliding out from the booth, I walked with purpose through the restaurant, throwing the front doors open. I didn't care who's eyes flashed my way, or what the fuck the prissy socialites thought when she charged out and I rushed to follow.
She wasn't leaving me like that. No more running.
I wasn't going to let her just shy away into the darkness, retreat into her safe place and leave me. I watched her walk out before, and I hated it every time.
Why did I hate it?
Why did I even give a shit about this woman?
There was no reason for me to want her the way I did; I didn't know her, she didn't know me. We had met by shear luck, and pure coincidence.
There was no reason for me to want to keep her so close, to have her, to make her mine.
But it was there, not as a thought, not from some act of kindness, or long lost love I knew years ago.
This... It was just a feeling.
A feeling that burned deep inside my gut, a feeling that took over my head and cursed her name, all while whispering it to the heavens.
My blood rushed when she was around me, my muscles pulsed when she moved her lips, my heart beat an uncontrollable rhythm with every breath she exhaled.
And I couldn't ignore it.
I wouldn't ignore it.
For the first time in years, I let my gut take control, guiding me to do what it said I should.
Looking up and down the sidewalk, I shoved a few people out of my way. She moved fast, but I was faster, I was stronger.
And I was taking her tonight.
Once I showed her what she could have, once I smashed through the crust she'd built around herself, Willow would fall into my hands.
A glimmer of red cast off the brick, ducking and weaving through the crowded street. Hitting the pavement, I pushed through anyone who got in my way. Man, woman, it didn't matter.
I didn't see them, they were obstacles, standing in the way of me getting the one and only thing I'd ever really wanted in my life that didn't build my bank account.
There was a part of my heart that had switched on, pumping pure desirous need through every vein in my body. With her near me I forgot about everything else, I forgot about my past, and felt alive.
Alive, with Willow I'm finally living.
How does someone you don't even know make you better?
Could I honestly say I was better?
Could I seriously think that having her in my hands would remove the monster I stowed below?
She was a silhouette in my dreams, a hidden need that had finally shined through. I wasn't going to let her just disappear.
Her blonde hair bobbed and weaved through unknown faces, the end of her dress skirted through the feet of others, following her like a lost soul.
Picking up the pace, I didn't yell for her, I didn't scream her name, I just kept going. Moving in tandem with her heels, I took two steps to her one, bridging the gap between us.
In the swarm of bodies, Willow escaped my eyes for a momentary instant. And I hated it, every second she wasn't in my sight, I hated.
I had this raw need to see her every second of every day, to let my eyes wake to her face, to let my world be consumed by her.
She had no idea how much she had taken my life and turned it upside down. She had no clue that I spent the last week thinking about her, thinking about our short wicked night in my shop.
Her body, her warmth, her scent; it had overtaken any and all thoughts. I walked with my eyes forward, but my mind turning with her.
As quickly as she disappeared, she manifested right before me. Her shadow had become a figure, her feet slowed, body relaxed and strolling with purpose.
As quietly as I could, I walked up behind her. In one swift lunge, I grabbed her arm, yanking her into the small alley beside us.
It was the only private spot, the only place away from the sea of eyes and herd of people.
She released a short-lived squeal, the sudden gasp sending my lungs into a torrent of heated breaths. “Kash! What are doing? Just leave me alone.”
Pressing her up against the building, I held her upper arms tight. “What am I doing? What are you doing?” The words came out more harsh than I wanted. But she needed to realize I wasn't joking, I had claimed her.
She was mine.
There was no more running.
“I was trying to leave, let me go.” Her eyes flashed, hardening with every blink.
“Why are you running from me? You can feel it, I know you can.”
“Feel what?” Dipping her head, she broke the lock our eyes had held.
“Don't.” I snapped, whipping a finger up. “You remember that night, you remember what flew between us, don't tell me you can't feel it.” Tipping her chin up, I forced her to look at me. “Can't you see what I can give you?”
“What you are doesn't matter to me. I don't need your money to get what I want.”
Brushing my lips across hers, I let her perfume take over my senses. “Tell me you don't feel it.” Hoovering over her neck, her skin bristled. My cock thickening instantly to her reaction.
“I don't know what you want me to say.” Her head angled, face shielded by the hair falling and swaying in the wind.
<
br /> Bringing my hand to her face, Willow tilted her head up as I pushed the strands away. The soft light of the street stretched across her skin making her glow.
Leaning in closer, my lips rested against the shell of her ear. “Yes you do.” Gently I nipped the curve, a delicate moan escaped her lips, disappearing into the darkened alley.
Fuck, I could take her right here.
My hand slid over her ribs, hooking her hip. Pushing my chest closer to hers, her back snapped straight against the brick. She was speechless, molding her body into mine.
Willow's chest pressed up, shoulders flicking square. Her hips rocked softly, breathing getting heavier and heavier the closer I brought my body to hers.
“Kash, I don't know what I'm feeling.”
“Why are you ignoring it? You're only hurting yourself, because I'm going to take you, right here.” My dick was engorged, pressing angrily into the zipper. Pushing the erection into her waist, I whispered. “Can you feel that?”
Her lids slowly closed, opening to reveal a sultry glaze that coated her crystal blue eyes. Her face had softened, body relaxing, muscles tense but inviting as her hips pushed back into my waist.
I didn't say another word. My hand scooped her nape, squeezing tight around the base of her skull. Tugging her in, our lips touched, igniting a fire that I couldn't put out this time.
There wasn't anyone to stop it, no one running up to halt me from taking what was mine.
Not even Willow.
The silk of her dress felt cool, slipping over her body as I ran my hand up her stomach. Her lips were warm, smooth, delicate, everything I wanted them to be.
And more than I expected.
Licking her bottom lip, I slid my tongue into her mouth. And she accepted, licking back, coiling around mine. I felt her body go limp, every muscle breaking free for what she finally accepted.
Me.
Her flavor was sweet, a mix of champagne and mint. She was refreshing, a taste I needed, and never wanted to let go.
I couldn't understand why I felt the need to have her, and only her.
But I wasn't going to deny myself.
Never again.
The sounds of cars passed by on the main road, the quiet voices of strangers filtered toward us in the dark. But in that moment I was lost, lost in her, lost in my muse.