Book 1 - Page 26 (1/2)

He deadpans. “I’m giving you a house. Don’t push your luck, Sienna.”

“What do you want me to do now?” I ask.

His mouth draws up into a grin. Oh, he’s got me right where he wants me and he’s abso-f.u.c.king-lutely loving it. I curse at myself for ever showing my timid nature around him two years ago, yell at myself for showing b.a.l.l.s for long enough to go on his radar. When I return his look—an expression that makes my face hurt—his smile fades. He gestures his head toward the leather couch.

“Sit down, Si, and take those G.o.d-awful chopsticks out of your hair.”

I slam my bottom down on the couch and drag the pretty silver hair accessories from my red locks, letting the tangled strands fall in a mess around my shoulders. Lucas is by my side, standing over me, in a matter of seconds. His hand hovers by my face, as if he wants to run his fingers through my long hair, to tug on it, but then he clenches his fingers.

“I’m not going to touch you,” he promises. “I’m not going to have any physical contact until you f**king ask me to.”

“Maybe I won’t,” I say. And, though I know it’s cruel, I find myself swis.h.i.+ng my hair over my shoulders, and running my fingers through it in an effort to comb out the tangles. I sense when his body goes stiff. He mutters something to his self. I make out a few words like a.s.s and red. “You said that I’m submissive to everyone but you, so maybe—”

“There’s no maybe to it,” he growls between bared teeth. “By time you leave me—if I send you away—you’ll grow a d.a.m.n backbone and the only person you’ll ever answer to will be me.”

What does he mean by if he sends me away? I want to ask him, but he begins talking, taking long strides back and forth while he explains in detail everything we’re going to do over the course of the next ten days. There’s a photo shoot tomorrow for a magazine spread. Then a film crew is coming in from Los Angeles the day after tomorrow. They’ll be filming him, outside of his personal s.p.a.ce, for a doc.u.mentary that’s being released for a movie about the future of rock and roll. That’s on day four, Sunday—

Wait—day four?

When I stop him to ask if he has his days mixed up he shakes his head to each side. “Don’t interrupt. But to answer your question, since you accepted my offer early on yesterday, I’ve decided to be nice and give you credit for it.”

Well this is unexpected. I clack my teeth together, side to side, so I don’t show how surprised I am that he’s taken time off my . . . work schedule. I’m ridiculously grateful, because what he’s decided to do will give me an extra day with Gram once I’m able to return to her cabin.

“I’m not a total douchebag, Sienna. I do give a s.h.i.+t what happens to you and just so you know, I’ll never, ever humiliate you. That’s never my game.”

There’s a lump in my throat and I choke out a thank you.

Then his mood changes and he raises an eyebrow almost mockingly, saying, “Now, no more interruption or I really will punish you.” I open my mouth, but he holds out a finger in front of him, stopping me from speaking. “G.o.d, when will you listen? No, I’m not going to physically punish you because that requires . . .”

When he nods his head, giving me permission to speak, I whisper, “Touch.”

“And the only way I’ll do that is if . . .”