13. Sunny

I pulledon the golden sheath dress Agnes had delivered to my new room just a few hours ago.

How she'd known my dress and shoe size, I had no idea. The Benton Girl measurements on file for me (and by on file, I meant scribbled down by our ancient stage manager, Mary) were just my bust and hip measurements. We used a roller skate rink system for our show heels, which entailed everyone just grabbing the size they needed and Maurice the cobbler (Mary's slightly less ancient brother) coming through on a schedule that could best be summed up as "whenever he felt like it" to fix and re-sole our supply.

Last year, I"d been forced to wear a pair of pinching size nines for so long that I"d been working up the courage to ask the unfailingly sour Mary if her brother was, in fact, still among the living. Luckily, Maurice had come through, the opposite of clockwork, right before the Halloween to Christmas switchover.

However, the silky gown Agnes picked out for me fit perfectly. Standing in the hotel room"s mirror, I admired the way the dress hugged my curves without pointing a neon sign at them—like, say, a cleavage-and-booty-cheeks-exposing crystal bikini that weighed a metric ton.

No, it wasn"t one of the yoga pants and tank top ensembles I favored during my off-hours, but the dress looked exactly like what someone Cole Benton was dating should wear: stately and subtly sexy—but not too sexy.

Speaking of too sexy…

Many hours, one hotel room reassignment, and a long, much-needed nap had passed since what I"d labeled the Kiss Incident. Yet, a wave of embarrassment washed over me again at the thought of my fake fiancé.

Just like it had done every time I thought about Cole Benton.

I couldn"t stop thinking about what had happened before dance class with him—what shouldn't have happened. I still had no idea why I"d taken him up on his challenge instead of backing way.

But I was sure of one thing: Asking Agnes to put me up in one of The Benton's empty hotel rooms until a suitable apartment could be found for me was probably the smartest thing I'd done since I"d agreed to play the part of Cole Benton"s fiancée.

Forcibly tamping down my Kiss Incident memory cringe, I concentrated on putting my way-too-old curly weave into an updo that would match the elegance of the expensive-looking dress.

But a loud, banging knock sounded on the door just as I got a hybrid bun/beehive secured with several combs and, like, all the hairpins that ever hair-pinned.

"Sunny, it's Cole Benton,"the heavy knocker said on the other side of the door before I could ask who it was.His voice was its usual ice wouldn"t melt in my mouth monotone.

My heart thudded in my chest as I picked up my phone from the shiny aughts-era laminated wood dresser and checked the time. It was only 6:20.

"Oh, there must have been some kind of miscommunication,"I called back. "I'm still getting dressed, and I told Agnes to tell you I'd just meet you in the lobby at seven. So…"I let the sentence trail off, hoping he'd get the hint and, you know, go away and give me the forty minutes I still had left to get ready.

He did not go away.

A few cold beats ticked by. Then,"Open the door, Sunny. We need to talk about you moving into an economy room without my permission."

Something weird was happening in my tummy—a strange mix of fear, defiance, and something else. Something else I refused to name. But it reminded me of that kiss.

"There's nothing to talk about,"I insisted with more bravado than I felt."I'm staying here until Agnes finds me a new apartment. End of conversation. I've made my decision."

Silence. Then, "Don't make me go down to the front desk and get a key card for your room. It will be worse if you do."

Was he threatening me? Like, actually threatening me for not leaving myself vulnerable inside his honey-thirst-trap of a penthouse?

What right did he have to intimidate me? Or act like I had to do everything he said?

I decided to open the door. Not because he told me to, but so I could give him a piece of my mind.

But before I could tell him off, Cole rushed through the doorway. Like a bull with shampoo-commercial-level blond and ash hair.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded as the heavy door swung shut behind him.

This wasn"t the Ice King who"d smugly dropped me off this morning. He towered over me—his breathing ragged, his expression enraged. He looked the opposite of the cold billionaire CEO who never let on how he felt.

I blinked, a little taken aback. But then I remembered, Wait a minute, I"m the one who should be enraged.

"Agnes said no one would be using this block of rooms for a while because it was on the schedule for updating,"I explained—way more calmly than he looked, I might add."And I figured, why not?"

"Why not?"he repeated, his voice jagged steel."Why not?"

"Yes, why not?"I insisted, holding out both arms."This is just pretend. You are not my boss, and I don"t have to do anything you say?—"

"This is a tactic!" He pointed at the ground, his chiseled features twisted with anger. "You"re doing this on purpose. Driving me crazy. Torturing me just to prove you can bring the CEO who fired you to his knees."

"What? No! How is your worldview so warped you can"t see it"s not always about tactics with people?"

"Then what is it about?"he demanded."Because we were both there at that kiss. We both want sex to happen. But you"re fighting me. Working cocktail waitress shifts and moving out of my penthouse instead of signing a contract that will get you anything you want."

"That"s why I moved hotel rooms,"I yelled back at him."Because I was afraid I"d sign your stupid contract if I stayed at your place a moment longer."

My confession exploded between us. Fading the confusion and anger from Cole"s expression.

"You"re afraid?"His eyes dropped to my lips.

And before I could stop them, my eyes raised to his.

I couldn"t tell you who moved first, but suddenly Cole"s mouth was fused to mine, and he was kissing me with such force that I would have fallen backward if not for his arms wrapping around me tighter than steel bands.

A wild fever consumed me—consumed the both of us—and my back once again hit the wall mirror. But this time, it wasn"t just kissing. It was touching and tasting and hands—hands roaming everywhere.

Cole fisted the front of my gorgeous gold sheath dress, and with a ripping sound, the entire front of my body was suddenly exposed.

We both stilled. Did he just do that? Destroy a dress that had to have cost more than a month"s worth of rent?

Yes, yes, he did. And his expression showed no remorse. There came only a quick, angry scan of my naked body. Then he was kissing me again with bruising force. His teeth nipped at my mouth before moving to my chin.

"You"re not wearing anything underneath,"he accused against my jaw."Bullshit you"re not trying to drive me crazy."

"I'm not,"I insisted, even as I let my neck fall back to receive his lips there as well."I told you I was still getting ready. I was just trying on the dress to make sure it fit."

He let out a low, feral sound against my neck."I need to punish you, Sunny. If you don"t want me to, you need to say that now. While I can still make myself stop."

"Punish me?"My mind was consumed in such a thick fog of lust that I could barely get out the question. Or fully process the weird, sick thrill that ran through me."Punish me how?"

Cole let out a sound that was half chuff, half growl. His voice vibrated against the sensitive skin of my throat as he answered."Touch you. Eat you. Fuck you until you beg me to let you come."

Oh, I would never….

I mean, I couldn"t let him do any of that.

Could I?

Something about having Cole "Triple Ice" Benton in front of me—not slightly softened, as I"d imagined, but hot and crazed as his lips roved up the column of my throat. Something about that contrast between who I thought he was when we first met and the person threatening to punish me with rough sex made me ask another question I had no business speaking out loud."Touch me where?"

His hand lowered from my breast to the V between my legs, cupping it. Like it belonged to him."I would start here. Use my fingers and tongue to make sure you were ready to take me inside of you—all of me inside you—as you received your punishment for defying me."

His hand was so heavy on my sex. I squirmed then whimpered with the new sensations his words were arousing inside of me.

"Cole..."I whined his name as my hips began moving into his hand with a mind of their own. My entire body had somehow become swollen with desire. More. I needed more....

"What do you want, Sunny?" His voice was dark smoke curling into my ear. "Do you want me to stop right now? Or do you want me to keep going...punish you? Be clear."

"Keep going."The two words dropped out of my mouth on a whisper, my swollen body"s ultimate betrayal. A sudden takeover of my vocal cords."Please, keep going...."

"Gladly,"he whispered back in my ear."Just name your terms and conditions so we can sign the contract."

His caveat splashed over me like a bucket of cold water. What am I doing?

I blinked. Shook my head to clear away the fog of lust.

"No!" I answered, voice cracking with my newly refound sense of outrage. "I can"t—I"m not going to sign your contract."

He abruptly withdrew his hand and stood up to his full height."Because you"re afraid."

There were other reasons, too. But I let my fear lead the defense. "Yes, because I"m afraid."

Cole made a considering sound in the back of his throat and looked to the side."You know what, Sunny...?"

I braced myself for more negotiations. Another round of having to tell him no while my aching body was screaming yes.

But when he returned his green gaze to me, his eyes were as cold as gravestones."You should be afraid."

He drew himself up even taller. I could tell he was purposefully trying to intimidate me with his height. It worked.

I gulped, and he slipped a finger underneath my chin, tipping my face up so I was forced to look at him as he informed me,"The longer you resist, the harder I"m going to take you when you finally give in."

The sick thrill charged through me again, liquid and electric. But this time, I stayed in control of my vocal cords.

"Then I won"t give in!"I answered, lacing my voice with steely resolve.

Cole just smirked, icy amusement twisting his lips.

"Everyone knows The House always wins. And guess what, Sunny...."He leaned slightly forward to inform me,"I'm The House."

I stared at him with no idea how to come up with a good response to that.

But he didn"t seem to need a response.

"I"ll be expecting your terms by the end of the night."His no-longer-burning eyes scanned my naked body."And I"ll have Agnes send up another dress. See you downstairs in the lobby. At seven pm."

With that, he stepped back and left me alone in the room—just as I"d wanted.

But it didn"t feel like I"d won.

My body, which had been so unbearably hot just a few minutes ago, became incredibly cold. The floor was a mess of lost small combs and bobby pins. And one glance in the mirror revealed I looked a disaster, too. My front half was completely exposed in the destroyed dress, and my hair was now a cloud of curls underneath a lopsided beehive.

With ragged breaths, I picked up the phone to text Agnes an apology for having to replace the dress she'd arranged for me—only to have my heart nearly give out when I saw the time on the screen. 6:29 pm.

Less than ten minutes had passed since Cole barged into my hotel room.

Shame and embarrassment rushed through me, like they'd just been waiting on the sidelines for me to get done demeaning myself before they started asking me all sorts of judgmental questions.

Questions like: If it took him less than ten minutes to strip you out of your dress and emotions, what will he be able to do—convince you to do—when he gets some real time alone with you?

None of the answers I came up with ended with my pride and heart intact, which made the real answer to that question clear.

Okay, new resolution. No matter what transpired over the coming evening, I would not—could not—allow myself to go home with Cole Benton.