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“I’m not bending over.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “If you want to fuck me, you can do it facing me. Look me in the eye the way you would any of those women up there.”

I lunge at her, but she jumps out of the way. “You’re not in control here,” I say, but I sense it: the untruthfulness of that statement. “You signed the covenant and there’s nothing in it about eye contact.”

“Fine,” she says, standing a few feet away, the lights reflecting behind her. “But tell me the truth. Are you fucking them? Are you violatingyourcontract with me?”

“Jesus Christ.” I snort, in complete disbelief. “You don’t even want me and you’re jealous? I should’ve known. Looks like the West End ego extends to its lesser sex.”

Her pink lips purse into a scowl. “Maybe I just want to know why you can’t look me in the eye while you’re screwing me. Is it because I’m not one of them? I’m not rich and powerful and experienced, and I can’t give you whatever it is they do?”

“What?” The accusations are wildly off base. “Don’t be stupid, Red.”

There’s a burst of frustration in her eyes. “Then tell me! What don’t I understand, Wicker? Lex makes me look at him when he makes his deposits. Pace demands that I only focus on him. But you? I could be a blow-up doll for all you care!”

I lunge again, grabbing her by the wrist, but this time she lurches backward to break away. The struggle is sudden, unexpected, and her heels slip against the tile as I tug back. It’s practically slow motion, our eyes locked as she flails, shooting out both hands to clutch my lapels.

With a jerk, we both tumble gracelessly, plunging into the water.

The water is warm but still shocking, absorbed by the fabric of my shirt and pants like sandbags tied to my limbs. We’re tangled together, arms and legs, and I fight against her to get loose. We both emerge at the same point, gasping for breath, but I keep one hand on her arm, holding her close.

“You fucking lunatic!” I shout, voice echoing off the low ceiling.

She blinks water out of her eyes. “You pushed me in!”

“Igrabbedyou,” I say, shaking out my hair, splattering it across her face. “You’re the one that pulled me in!”

She shivers, and the sheer top of her dress is completely see-through, giving me a full view of her tits. The first good look I got of them was in the locker room after Pace’s win, watching my brother lick and suck them into stiff peaks. Beneath the water, my cock twitches at the vague sight of her dark, round nipples pressing against the fabric.

Sliding my hand down to her wrist, I push her toward the wall, pinning her with my hips. “Cold, Princess?”

Her jaw is utterly locked. “N-no.”

My pants sag around my waist and I cup the back of her neck, holding tight. “Then why are you shivering?”

“These are tremors of rage, Wicker.” She thrashes against me, water spraying upward. “Get the fuck off of me.”

“Or what? You’ll ruin my night? Already done, Red.” Her skirt billows around us, floating to the top of the water, and it’s all too easy to dip my hand underneath, immediately finding her clit. Even like this, that part of her body is warm, and she inhales sharply at my touch. “You want me to face you while we fuck? Will that make this more real to you? Less perfunctory?” I bend, breathing on one of her nipples through the fabric, eliciting a shiver. “Less of an obligation?”

Her chest jerks with hard breaths, green eyes pinning me. “It’ll mean nothing, because you’re incapable of feeling anything.”

“You have no fucking clue what I feel.” I grab the heavy fabric in my hands and yank the dress up over her head, tossing it with a wetslopagainst the deck.

She’s small in front of me. Sometimes I forget that about her. She’s such an enormous, fucked up presence in the Palace that she might as well be nine feet tall. But the reality isthis.

Wet hair plastered to her face. Body bare. Lips trembling.

Vulnerable.

But the look in her eyes is searing, as if I’m the only one who feels exposed here. Until my gaze lowers to the bandage taped to the side of her breast. “What the hell is that?”

Her arm lowers, clamping down. “Nothing you care about.”

“Stop telling me how I feel!” Spinning around, I pull her deeper in the water. Verity struggles against me, her hair tickling my chest. Every move is followed by a heightened sensation. I grab her by the hair in an attempt to make her stop, but the move just tilts her face, her mouth, upward. Those green eyes dart right to my lips.

It’s strange.

Any other girl in this town would have been all up on me by now. They would have been clawing at me, sucking, licking, moaning.Taking.

Of course Verity wants me–physically, at least. She’s only human. I can see it in the way her pupils blow wide, wet eyelashes fluttering with a slow, heavy blink.