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“Well, whatever you call her then.” I didn’t see how that slight detail was important. “Your club woman then.”

“And you’re wrong.”

“What, about the girlfriend thing?” How was that slight detail important?

“No. About you turning down guys because of me.”

I didn’t understand and he looked at me a bit longer, realizing I was confused.

“I’m going to be doing it personally.” He stepped toward me, placing my hand on his heart. “I’m going to be scaring them off. You won’t need to keep turning them away because I’m going to make sure no one fucking dares.”

I frowned. Not really understanding. “And why would you do that?”

“Because I’m a greedy and selfish bastard.” He said that like it should answer all my questions. His eyes flashed to my neck. “From now on at every club party, I want you there and on my lap. Every dinner, same thing: you on my lap.”

“People will start questioning you on that.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“What about when my dad asks why I’m suddenly glued to you?”

“He knows you and I are close.”

“Yeah, as friends. But what you are describing doesn’t sound like you are doing it out of friendship.” Was I mishearing what he was trying to tell me? Because it sounded like he wanted me on him literally at every club party. Like I was his or something…was I misreading the situation?

He smirked, seeming pleased. “Good. You’re starting to get the picture.”

My eyes widened. “Um, no. No, I do not get the picture! We are not in a relationship. I’m not yours!” How could he even want that to begin with? I couldn’t stop my reaction. I was panicked. I was shocked and really confused over why he would want that.

“Not mine, hey?” He reached out, pushing my hair to the side. “That mark on your neck is telling a different story.”

Okay. I was not expecting that. I swallowed sharply as his fingers ran over his mark.

He lowered his mouth to my ear. “You saying you don’t arch your back when I’m claiming your mouth?” He kept my hand still over his heart. “You saying you don’t moan when I kiss you?”

I pulled my hand from under his and gripped his shoulders to help me keep standing, feeling tingly and nervous all at the same time. I gulped. Had he really taken that much notice?

This had gone from innocent to something else. I sure as hell hadn’t seen it coming. I was nervous. So very nervous, as his hands ran down my spine, and he pushed me into his chest.

“Still saying you aren’t mine?” His mouth was still at my ear.

He wanted me to be his? Surely not. He pulled his mouth from my ear and I saw his expression. He was serious right now. Deadly fucking serious.

“You don’t want that.” My voice was shaking with nerves. He couldn’t want that. I wasn’t a model like he was used to like Andrea. I gripped his shoulders tighter. “Stop saying like you want that.” Me being his wasn’t what he really wanted.

“You’re the one saying you’re mine. You’re saying it.” He kissed the top of my neck. “Your body is saying it.” My neck arched as he kissed down it, painfully slow. “You’re doing it right now.”

I knew what he meant. I had told him I was turning other men away because of him. And it would seem my body’s reaction to his touch hadn’t gone unnoticed. I would love to hide how attracted I was to him, how much I loved his lips on me—at least then he wouldn’t know just how much I enjoyed his touch.

I needed to flip the tables. I had to get a reaction out of him. Currently, he had all the playing cards and was reading my body way too well.

My hands ran down his shoulders, down his arms, till I reached his hands. I was turning the tables on him. He thought I was his. Well, let’s see how far he would take it from me.

I placed his hands under my singlet, and slowly guided them up my skin, my singlet bunching up. His hands froze just under my breasts.

“Hannah, no.”

I smiled and my plan was slowly working. If he thought I’d settle for him just kissing me when he knew I considered myself his, well, he was wrong. He was the one going on about how well he knew my body, so right now he should have known what I was after.