Page 119 of The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

He nodded, flicking his gaze away from me. “Temporary. Until I move back to Seattle.”

Oh.

The fist around my lungs released, but his words had left a sting behind.

Though, for some reason, the glint in his gaze before he’d looked away felt . . . untruthful. A gut instinct told me he was lying to me, but I just wasn’t sure about what. I knew he was attracted to me, knew he wanted me in a sexual way—maybe he even enjoyed sparring with me—but it was too hard to believe he was interested in me seriously. I was messy. He was as strait-laced as they came.

“Aren’t you in a relationship with Aleksandra?” I realized it made me sound like a homewrecker, having just begged him to come inside me for goodness’ sake, but really, I had so many deeper issues than this.

“No.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“I have never slept with her.”

I was a little unsettled by the tsunami wave of relief that hit me.

He wanted to sleep with me four times? I didn’t know if I should feel special or terrified. I was leaning toward a mixture of both.

I bit my lip in deliberation.

Wasn’t I just telling myself I needed to stop sleeping with him? Why was I even contemplating this? My mind spun in turmoil, but my body had already decided. It was still vibrating in gratification from the two intense orgasms he’d just wrung from me.

“I’ll make it so good for you, malyshka.”

A tortured moan crawled up my throat, but I couldn’t get rid of a tingling sense of warning in the back of my head. Why did this feel like a trap?

“I don’t know . . .”

“I don’t see the problem.” His eyes flickered with a challenge. “Unless you think you’ll fall for me.”

Ugh.

He had me backed into a corner now.

I’d have to admit I was in danger of falling for him or let him fuck me for however long he was staying in New York.

What a ruthless bastard.

Though, maybe this was what I needed. I didn’t want to give up sex, but I also didn’t want to have to search for another man to take Christian’s place. A scoff sounded in my mind—like that was even possible. I could use him, just like he’d be using me, couldn’t I?

I fingered the hem of his shirt. “I’ll have some stipulations, of course.”

“Of course.”

Walking back and forth in front of him, I listed them off.

“I’m not a sex slave. I won’t drop to my knees when you snap your fingers, like you expect all your other women to.”

He was amused. “That’ll be a hard habit for me to break, but I’ll work on it.”

“I know how witty and exciting you think I am and that you love spending time with me, but I’m a busy woman. You have to respect my space.”

His tone was dry. “You read trashy novels by the pool and spend

the rest of your time at Barneys.”

I ignored him and made the next stipulation sound so serious it made him smile. “You have to kiss me whenever I want.”