“Smart girl,” he muses, upper lip quirking with amusement.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You really think it’s better off in their hands? That what you’re telling me?”
I scowl because that’s not what I’m saying. I mean, hell, they didn’t visit me in that shithole. They just threw me away like I meant nothing to them. Part of me knows he’s better off with it, and that’s a scary thought to have. How can I possibly trust Baz, after everything he’s done, over my own parents? That isn’t even my main issue. My main issue is that he went out of his way to take it from them.
Why? We haven’t even had a conversation by this point. He obviously has some ulterior motive.
“No, but that doesn’t mean I want you to have it. Give it to anyone else but you.”
“And why not? Don’t think I have your best interests at heart?”
“Do you?” I challenge. “Because, somehow, I don’t believe you do. I do not trust you. Every move you make is calculated, and I want to know why you did this.”
He shrugs noncommittally. Suddenly too smooth and calm for my liking. “Figured it was safer this way. You can thank me later.”
“Give it back.”
He tsks. “Can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Tell me what you came here for first,” he counters.
“This is what I came here for!” I snap, my tone exaggerated. Baz quirks a brow, calling my bluff. He scoffs. The deep sound of it rumbles through my body.
“Guess all the lies haven’t changed.”
His words are a blow to the chest. I try not to flinch at how much they bother me. I hate that he’ll always view me as a liar. I wish I could sit here and bare myself to him and tell him everything.
“Fine, you want to know what I’m here for? Because I need your help.”
His brows shoot up in surprise. “With what?”
“I’m sure I have you to blame for the way the media is ripping me to shreds.” I glare at him. “I need it to stop. At this rate, I’ll never be able to find a job anywhere. My name is tainted. And I just…I need it to go away. Those people online are cruel.”
The truth is, I don’t need his help with any of that. And while it bothers me that people are saying these things about me online, I can ignore it. I can hide out for a little while until it all dies down. Though, finding work? That’s a different story in itself.
Baz watches me closely, much too closely, and I fear he can see through the white lie. I fear he already knows why I’m really here, and he’ll figure out this is just a weak attempt at an excuse. I can’t let that happen. This is my last chance to work my way back into his life.
I should’ve gone with the original plan I discussed with Vera, but with my battered heart already involved, it was much too risky.
After a beat, he swipes at that plump bottom lip, regarding me with a cold aloofness that makes me want to shrivel up and die. “So that’s what you’re here for?” he grunts, shaking his head as though he should know better. “Of course, that’s what you’re here for. You want me to clean up your mess, too. Make it all better?” His taunting tone irks me.
“You owe me something, you sorry son of a bitch.”
Baz leans back in his chair, watching me with a cold, calculating gleam in his eyes. I hate it. I feel like he can see right through me. See through every ill intention I had when coming here. I press my lips together, refusing to look away or back down.
He smirks, and for once, it catches me off guard by how cruel it is. Leaning forward, he asks the words so softly, with a husky undertone that zaps me straight in the core. “You want to use me, baby?”
I swallow, crossing my legs to get rid of the sudden ache I feel down there. I search for that anger, holding on to it. “Don’t call me that,” I snap. Leaning forward, I lower my tone threateningly. “You owe me.”
Baz purses his lips. “Fair enough. But what do I get in return?”
A bark of laughter explodes from my chest. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe my knife not sticking out of your jugular?”
He chuckles. Amusement lighting his eyes. The bastard is enjoying this. “A knife? My, my, you really have changed, haven’t you?”
I square my shoulders. “I have.”
He leans forward more, and with the small movement, his smell wafts into my personal space, and I hate the way it lights up my body. It’s all man. And all Baz. “Well, I have, too, Dirty Girl. You sure you want to do this?”
“Do we have a deal, Sebastian? Just tell me what you want in return,” I grit through my teeth. If he asks me one more time if I’m ready, I’ll end up walking out because no, I’m not. But I’ll never let him know that.
He smirks. “I want you, of course.”
My heart jumps into my throat, and I grimace. “Fine.”
“Ready to work for it, Dirty Girl? Because this isn’t going to be easy work.” Once again, there is no heat in his gaze, just ice. And it burns a different way. One that is more painful. It’s meant to hurt, I realize. He wants to hurt me the same way I do him.
“Fuck you. Do we have a deal or not?” I ask, inserting steel into my voice.
He leans back. “We do.”
I gather my purse and set out to leave but let out a gasp of surprise when Baz whirls me around and leads me to the wall. He moved so fast I didn’t even hear him get up from his chair. The heat of his body pushes me into the wall, and I feel it seeping through my clothes. His smell infiltrates my senses. It makes it hard to think, to breathe, when he’s this close.
My heart is pounding violently. The deafening sound roars in my ears. He’s so close that I can feel each warm breath blow across the top of my head. My nipples pebble against the restraining material of my bra. It would be so easy to lean forward and fuse our mouths together. It would be so easy to get lost in this man like I have so many times before. Like two magnets, a positive and a negative, snapping together. That tether that’s always there between us vibrates, and I feel myself leaning into him. I should be resisting his hold, pretending I hate this. His hand suddenly snakes around the nape of my neck, and his touch warms me from head to toe. He steps into me; his hard planes flush against my curves.
My lips part on instinct when he leans in, his face hovering mere inches away from mine. We share each other’s air, breathing the want and desire that’s suddenly suffocating the room. His thumb trails its way from my wrist up my arm, around the curve of my shoulder, skimming the side of my neck and pausing on my chin. With the pad of his thumb, he drags it across my lower lip, toying with me.
A flush crawls over my skin, and I almost want to beg him to do it already. To kiss me. To take the pain away. Even if I can get lost in his kiss for mere minutes, I’ll take it.
“So eager,” he breathes against my lips. I can’t hold in my mewl when his tongue juts out, tracing the seam of my lips. My core throbs, damn-near begging for more.
He pulls back, watching me, and I want to cry out in distress at the unfairness of it all. But suddenly, he dives in, kissing me, taking my lips rough and hard. I moan into his mouth, falling into him completely. With his hand clasped around the nape of my neck, he pulls me into him, guiding the kiss, working my mouth this way and that, moving me to his heart’s desire.