Chapter 2

Chapter Two

LUCY

I ’m in shock. What the hell is he doing here? How did he even know where I live? A million questions form in my mind, but no actual words come out of my mouth.

"Answer me, love."

"I told you to stop calling me that," I hiss. Why did his pet name have to be “love”? It drives me insane. "You have a million others to choose from. Like babe, baby, sweetheart." I throw my hands up. "Pick something else."

His eyes narrow. Gosh, he really is as big as I remember. “I’ll call you whatever I want.” With three steps, his long strides eat up the distance between us. “Remember who’s in charge here.” I drop my head back to glare up at him.

“How could I ever forget?”

“Good.” He smirks, and I want to smack it off his smug, handsome face. Why does he have to be so damn handsome? My mind tells me one thing, but my body wants something else altogether.

“How did you get in here?” I steer the conversation in a different direction.

“We've been over this, love.” He trails his finger down my jaw. “If I want something, I take it.”

“I’m not a...ah...something. Nor am I a possession.” I hate how my voice shakes. This man makes me an utter mess when he’s close. We need to go back to texting and phone calls. In person is too much. Keeping space between us is easier.

“No, you are not,” he agrees.

It doesn't feel like a victory. In fact, he makes it sound like I belong to him even more.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Did I leave the back door unlocked? That doesn’t sound like me. I should have set the alarm before I stepped outside, but I was only a few feet from my front door. As if he knows what I’m thinking, Hollis steps around me and goes to the alarm. I watch in utter shock as he keys in the code, arming it.

“I didn’t make all that money in tech without a reason.”

“You’re insane.” My heart gives a weird flutter. Is that fear or something else entirely? The only real fear I have is his potential to use me and then discard me.

“You have no idea.” He grabs me by the wrist, and I must be in shock because I let him lead me over to the couch. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Would you rather I make you sit?” he asks, and I slowly lower myself onto the couch.

“Traitor,” I mutter to Snowball. Why is he hanging out with Hollis like they're best friends?

“He’s a good dog.” Hollis drops to one knee in front of me. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he starts to remove my boots from my feet. Then he puts my fluffy slippers back on them.

“I know he’s a good dog, but he should have bitten you.”

“Why would he do that?” Hollis takes my boots to the front door before he removes his suit jacket. Once it’s off, he starts to roll up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. With each inch, it reveals more and more ink.

Where the hell did he even come from? There’s no way his fancy sports car was driving in this weather. Besides, I would have seen it. He’s probably got some kind of invisible shield on it like Batman.

“Because you’re a stranger.” Duh. Snowball barks at the wind and tries to bite it sometimes when it blows too hard. But then he lets a whole man come in the house? You’d think Snowball knew him, but that can't be the case. Hollis has never been here before.

“Am I though?” He winks at me. What the hell does that mean? “I brought dinner, but something smells divine.”

“That’s my steak stew and sourdough.” I stand, and when I realize I’m about to go make him a bowl, I change my mind. “But you can’t have any.” There, I told him. I smirk internally. I have to take any sort of little win that I can because my defenses are crap when this man is involved.

“All right, I’d rather eat you anyway.”

"Wait.” I put my hands out to stop him when he steps toward me. My body heats with desire at the thought of him doing exactly what he suggests. The image of Hollis' face buried between my thighs makes my knees weak. “I’ll make you a bowl.”

“You cooked. So you’ll sit, and I’ll make us both a bowl.” He places his hand on my back, guiding me toward the kitchen as if this is his home.

I have a dining room, but I never use it. It's more for crafts and projects. I like to sit at the table in the kitchen because the windows face the backyard. Snowball stays in the living room and spreads out on the couch.

He pulls out one of the chairs for me to sit, and when I do, I’m aware that arguing with him doesn't work. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s kind of nice to have someone take care of me.

Hollis is right. He does always get what he wants. The thing is, what he wants always confuses me. Almost as much as the way he moves through my kitchen like he’s been in it before. He pulls out bowls and spoons and doesn't have to search for them. How the heck does he know where everything is?

"What's happening?" I ask as he cuts the bread.

"I'm serving us dinner."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You know that's not what I meant. This is getting out of control."

"It really is," he agrees, and that’s not what I thought he was going to say. "I'm over the cat and mouse game."

"Cat and mouse game?" He grunts a response. "That's not an answer."

He turns to face me. "You're mine, Lucy. I have given you time, and now that time is up."

I must be in some sort of alternate universe because the words coming out of his mouth make absolutely zero sense.

I just stare at him as my brain tries to catch up. He’s given me time? Yeah, he really is insane. Maybe I should call someone. My phone is still in my back pocket, but I don’t go for it. With the storm, I’m sure there are other people that need more help at the moment. It would be selfish of me to call the police or even my brother. He too sometimes has to help bail people out of trouble. I can handle Hollis. As soon as I have the thought, I know I’m lying to myself. I guess we're both insane.

“Now eat.” He places the bowl and a buttered piece of bread in front of me. When I take a bite of the stew, he leans down and kisses the top of my head. “That’s my good girl.” My eyes widen, and I have to press my thighs together. I learned recently that those words have an effect on me. “Eat it all, and then I’ll give you your treat.”

“My treat?” I ask. What the heck kind of treat do I want from him? I must be losing my mind. That is the only explanation here.

Why am I so attracted to him? Even though I should despise him, I can't help but crave him. The hardest part of sending him those photos is that I would always get so turned on. It made me feel sexy, and that is not what I’m used to. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was sexually broken until Hollis entered my life. I even contemplated the possibility of identifying as asexual. That’s when I started to dig deeper online and ended up finding out a few things about myself.

Hollis grabs the other chair, moving it so he is right next to me. "I believe it's time for us to move things forward. The pictures aren’t enough. I need more.”

The way the word need rolls off his tongue actually does sound needy. He sounds like an addict seeking his next fix. From what I’m grasping, I’m it.

“I’m sure you can get more somewhere else.” I force myself to look away from him because I don’t want to see his expression. In fact, why did I even say that? I take another bite of my food so I don’t say more. Hollis does the same, not responding to what I said.

Every second that passes, my anger intensifies. “You have nothing to say to that?” I finally snap.

"No.” He takes another bite.

“You know what—” I start to stand, but his hand comes down on my thigh, stopping me from moving. Jesus, his massive hand engulfs my thigh like a bear paw.

“Calm down, love.”

“You don’t tell a woman to calm down.”

“I’ll tell my woman anything I want.” I’m his? Does he truly believe that? “Your ridiculous comment didn't need a response, but if you insist, I'll take you to bed and show you how you're my woman. My only woman.” The intensity of his stare has me almost believing him.

"I can't be your woman. You barely know me."

Hollis barks a laugh. "Trust me, love. I know every fucking thing about you." He leans closer, and the hand on my thigh tightens. His other hand grips my chin so I have to stare into his eyes. "My good little girl."

Oh crap, maybe he does know me.