Page 29

“If that happens, then I’ll have to explain where I went.”

Ian reaches for my chin, gripping it hard. He forces me to look at him, which isn’t exactly difficult considering how damn pretty he is to stare at. Oh, I like this guy so much more than I’m allowed to, so much more than I should. I really, really hate how I’m looking at him. It’s like nothing else matters.

He’s a complete asshole. A villain. A freak. He’s probably killed people before, too, and it doesn’t even affect him. He’s like my father: cold, heartless. Still, in this moment, I feel something I so rarely feel.

Alive.

6

“Does Lorenzo have aphone?”

I blink, staring at Ian. He’s still gripping my chin hard, forcing me to look at him. Of course, Lorenzo has a phone. Doesn’t everybody have a phone? What kind of person doesn’t have a damn phone?

Then, because I remember all of his comments about manners, I nod and force myself to speak. “Yes, Mr. Salucci. Lorenzo has a phone. He has a blue phone case.” Not that it matters. I only know this because it’s so unusual for my dad’s people. Everyone else has a black case or no case at all, but Lorenzo’s is blue. It matches his eyes – cold and hazy and icy. It’s kind of a strange little detail for me to notice.

“Where does he keep it?” Another question. Another quiz. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t realize I’d be seeing Ian or giving him the details on a random person in my life.

“Back right pocket,” I say quickly. “Unless he’s working with the cats. Then he sets it on the front desk by the little green plant. He thinks nobody sees it there because he tucks it beneath a magazine.”

That’s the moment I realize why Ian has been coming after me. This is the reason Ian wants me. I notice people. Well, that and I’m invisible. Nobody gives a shit about the boss’ daughter. The only thing they care about is the fact that they can’t fuck me. They can’t even look at me.

That didn’t stop Ian.

A smile spreads over Ian’s face and he nods. This is important information to him for some reason. I don’t know why he cares about Lorenzo’s phone or why he wants to know about that dude in particular, but my breasts are still exposed and aching with pain. My pussy is still filled with need. Ian lets go of my chin and I glance at his cock before I can stop myself. It’s still hard. He still hasn’t had his release.

“Why does he leave his phone when he’s with the cats?” Ian asks me.

“I...uh...”

Two slaps to my breasts and he has my attention again.

“He dropped it once and a kitten – um, Elmo – grabbed it and ran away with it. Left bite marks on the screen. He was pissed.” Ever since that day, he’s hidden the phone in various places, but I always notice where they are. Beneath the magazine is his new favorite, though. He’s been leaving it there for the last couple of weeks. Nobody else seems to notice or care where his phone goes, so he hasn’t really suffered any ill consequences for this action.

Ian considers this, and then he unbuttons his pants. He pulls his cock out and starts stroking it right there where I can see, but not touch. Damn, I want to touch itsobadly. For some reason, my entire body feels like it comes to life when he does this. Self-loathing and resentment washes over me because there’s still a part of me that buys into the puritanical idea that sex should only be shared with people you love and Ian doesn’t love me.

Hell, I don’t even think helikesme. He uses me, though. He hurts me sometimes.