Page 112 of Sugar

Ridicule.

I waited for the one man who I thought might understand to confirm what I knew in my head.

ThatIwas wrong.

Devastatingly.

Fucking.

Wrong.

“That’s not what I offered you, Madeline.”

No amount of mental preparation could’ve lessened the mortification of him rebuffing me by reiterating our terms. His words echoed through my head like jagged blades that eviscerated my insides.

I gathered every ounce of pride I had to hide my raw reaction. I wasn’t sure how successful I was, so I kept my unseeing eyes aimed at his chest and was relieved when my voice came out even. “I know.”

“Yet you didn’t go back into the main room in search of what you were looking for. And you would’ve found it. So fucking easily.”

At the indecipherable edge to his words, I tentatively raised my eyes to meet his.

“You took my offer instead.” Every inch of his body seemed rigid, like it was etched from marble. His fists clenched at his sides. “Why?”

“You know why,” I mumbled, my cheeks flaming hot and red.

The real question is why did my dumbass have to be attracted to a perceptive and frustratingly good lawyer?

“I need to hear it. Why didn’t you ask to be re-auctioned? Or even go back to Gilded after that? Why did you take my offer when it wasn’t what you wanted?”

At the relentless interrogation that I knew wouldn’t stop without an answer, I blurted, “Because it was you!”

I didn’t have more of a reason, and Easton didn’t require one.

Moving suddenly, his mouth crashed into mine as he effortlessly lifted me. He took a few steps before the bed creaked and the headboard slammed against the wall as he hastily took me down to the mattress. Fisting my hair, he tightened his grip as he kissed me with the same ferocity he’d used to eat me.

Thank God I brushed my teeth.

That fleeting thought was all I was capable of before every last brain cell fritzed out when he arched his back so his hardness was finally pressed to my soaked core.

Easton tore his mouth away just long enough to pull the tee over my head. He seemed content to stay dressed so long as I wasnaked under him, but that didn’t work for me. I clutched the shirt and tugged up, and we separated again so he could yank it off.

Wow.

My quick glimpse of his cut muscles turned into a much, much better one when he lifted onto his knees. His hands went to his shorts, and my gaze dropped from his defined abs, the trail of mouthwatering hair, and cut V muscles at his pelvis in preparation of him freeing himself.

He didn’t.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Swiping the screen, he turned it to face me.

At first, I just blinked in confusion, wondering if he was showing me the bank statement for the card I never used. It took my muddled brain far too long to realize it was an online portal showing his clear health results.

“Birth control?” he asked.

“IUD. And I can show you my results, too.” I started to sit up, but he gave me a sharp shake of his head.

“It would’ve been on your forms for Gilded, and you haven’t been with anyone since.”

It wasn’t a question, but I still confirmed, “Right.”