“I told you who you belong to,” he rasps.
“You’re in no position to negotiate,” I say a little louder as his hard cock presses into me with his half step.
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I’m not negotiating.”
Goddamn him for being so sexy.
His nose presses into my hair. “You might be angry with me now, and I deserve some of it, but you know you belong to me. I never wanted this, but it’s too late. For both of us.”
I blow out a breath, and it sounds shuddered.
This man.
He thinks he can own me, claim me, and the entire world will just agree.
Not this time.
This time he’s hurt me. Betrayed me.
“I’m not a pair of shoes. Nor am I some woman who needs a man. We had good sex, I get it. But that doesn’t mean you get to plant your flag in me.”
A glint in his eyes has my brows lowering.
“I could have worded that differently...do not make it dirty.”
His lips twitch once more.
“Fine. We will circle back around to that.” He grows serious and takes a step back; the cool air replacing the heat of his body. “Now you need to hear my explanation.”
He leads me around the sofa, and we sit facing one another.
For the first time since I fled his mother’s house, I see him for who he is. Terrance Taylor. The son of the insanely famous man most of the world loves.
Someone who has endured abuse at this powerful man’s hands for years and had no ability to get away from it.
Until he did.
Travis has become an even more powerful man than his father, and while I don’t know the details yet, there must be a good reason for him change his identity.
He drapes his arm along the back of the sofa while I cross my legs and turn to face him.
“One-and-a half minutes,” I say, but we both know I’m full of shit.
“My mother died when I was five,” he starts. “I barely remember her. A shrink told me it’s because of the trauma. I shut down my memories as a protective mechanism.”
“I’m sorry.”
I am going to ask him to leave after this, but I’m not a monster. I care about him. Imorethan care.
But that’s my journey. I should have trusted my instincts and never gone out with him.
“I don’t know how long it took. Maybe days, maybe weeks. Time is weird when you’re a kid. But one night my father began bringing women home. I’d hear the noise and their drunken laughter. Then the women’s screams. I didn’t know what it was, but I stayed in my room.”
Jesus.
“Who looked after you?”
“Sofia. Mama,” Travis answers.
