When she was eighteen, after years of wishing he’d love her back, Deke had finally made a move. Believing he was the one, she’d fallen all over him like the desperate idiot she’d been. But he’d made it clear she wasn’t the type of woman you settled down with. No, she was the type of woman you fucked and left behind. Which made falling back into bed with him again, six months ago, all the more stupid.

She shivered, hated that despite everything, she still wanted him. Her heart squeezed, body heating like it always did around him. “I know how long it’s been,” she rasped.

A hard smile turned up the corners of his lips. “I thought you might’ve forgotten.” He pushed away from the desk and walked right up to her, invading her personal space. Suddenly trapped in his force field, she was unable to step back. “Maybe I’ve been wrong all these months. Maybe you haven’t forgotten after all. Have you thought of that night, Alex? Thought about how good we were together?” His gaze darkened. “What it was like to have my mouth on you, my cock moving inside you?”

Oh, God, she had. Every goddamned night since. She shivered, a delicious ache building steadily between her thighs. He wasn’t playing fair. The bastard knew how much she loved his dirty mouth, how much it turned her on. How she loved it when he used that impressive body to corner her, pin her down, take control.

He smirked, reading her so easily. “That’s what I thought.”

What had she been thinking coming here? Her temper got her into trouble more times than she’d like to admit, but this lack of judgment had to be some kind of new low even for her. She shrugged out of his invisible hold, which wasn’t easy, and took a step back. “Wrong. I try to forget my mistakes.”

He crossed his arms, creating more distance between them, and shrugged. “You’re still that lost little girl, aren’t you, Alex? Scared shitless of everything.”

What? Her heart pounded, and her breath rushed from her lungs like he’d sucker punched her. “You don’t know jack—”

He glanced down, inspected his fingernails, uninterested in what she had to say, and successfully cut her off midsentence without a single word. When he looked up, he said, “Don’t you think it’s time you grew the hell up?”

She tensed against all that quiet, controlled fury directed at her. And when it came, she welcomed the familiar surge of anger. Getting angry was better than crying. She’d shed more than enough tears over him already. “I’m confused here. Please explain your definition of growing up. Does fucking you make me a grown-up? Or just fucking in general?”

His jaw did some more clenching. “You haven’t slept with anyone else.”

The surety in his tone just pissed her off even more. Dammit, she hated that he was right. She forced a laugh. “What? You think you ruined me for all other men?”

Oh, crap. Wrong thing to say.

He moved back in, so close she could feel the heat of his body against hers. Her traitorous nipples puckered at the contact. He leaned in, his mouth a mere inch from hers, and whispered, “I know I have.”

His breath tickled her lips, and despite her anger, she struggled to find the strength to shove him away. “Back the hell up,” she ground out.

He didn’t budge, gaze dipping to her mouth. She sucked in a breath. He wouldn’t, would he? Oh, yeah, it was time to call the men in white coats, because, dammit, she wanted him to, wanted more of those demanding, hungry kisses the man excelled at.

But he stepped back suddenly, and all the air trapped in her lungs came out in a rush. He circled his desk, like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “I don’t have time for your temper tantrums today, Alex.”

She was still trying to get her heart rate to slow down and stop her knees from shaking, and he looked unruffled and emotionless. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ve told you what I’m going to do.” He didn’t look up from his laptop, dismissing her completely.

“This will kill your sisters.” It’s killing me.

He looked up then and stared at her for a long minute until she wanted to squirm. Instead she scowled.

He picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. “You really think you can make it work?”

“I know we can.” They were getting new clients every week. It was only a matter of time till the place was back in the black.

He leaned back in his chair. “Okay. I’ll give you three months.” She let out a relieved breath, until he added, “On one condition.”

She was almost too afraid to ask. “What is it?”

His gaze moved from her face, across her shoulders, then blazed a heated path over her small breasts and down her belly before lifting to meet hers. “I often need someone to accompany me to functions…”

She ignored her unease and forced an unladylike snort. “You need a date?”

“Yes, but you didn’t let me finish.” He stayed behind his desk, watching her carefully. “I’m a man, Alex. I have needs like any other. I don’t have time for relationships. I don’t want a serious commitment, and one-night stands aren’t really my thing.”

Was he— No way. He couldn’t seriously be asking her to be his fuck buddy.

“For the next three months, I want you to fill those roles.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “So you’re saying…you want…you want me to…”

“I want you to dress up nice, accompany me to dinners and other events I often have to attend. I’ll pay for your expenses, of course. Clothes, shoes, salon appointments. Whatever you want.” He leaned forward in his chair. “What I’m saying, Alex, is for the next three months, I want you to share my bed. That is what I want.”

Her head spun. “You’ve lost your mind.”

He didn’t look away; his gaze didn’t falter. “Those are my conditions. Nonnegotiable. Take it or leave it.”

Still, she stared at him. Waited for him to tell her he was just fucking with her. He didn’t. Did he think that little of her? That she was just some dispensable piece of ass? “You have to be joking.”

“I’m deadly serious.”

She spun and yanked open the door but looked back before she walked out. “I won’t be your whore. You can stick your deal.”

“Fine. Be ready for the valuer in two weeks.”

Chapter Two

Deacon watched Alex storm from his office and cursed.

The impact of seeing her again shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She looked just the same. Beautiful. Fucking untouchable.

But as soon as he’d laid eyes on her, those feelings, the ones he’d managed to keep on lockdown, had reared up and sucker punched him in the gut. Along with all the frustration, anger, and disappointment he’d felt waking in that bed alone all those months ago. He’d nearly given in to it. Had been so close to kissing that smart mouth, kissing that maddening attitude right out of her, and forcing her to see exactly what she did to him.

And he would have ruined everything.

Alex acted tough, but she was fractured, brittle. One wrong move, and she’d fall to pieces. Crumble right through his fingers. She’d become so used to pushing everyone away, it was now second nature. She had the don’t-mess-with-me attitude, the tattoos. All designed to keep people at arm’s length. But he’d tasted the soft, vulnerable woman beneath. And he wouldn’t stop till he had more.

Being shipped from one foster family to the next had built that impenetrable wall she hid behind, and it was time to knock it down.

That night with her six months ago, he’d gotten a glimpse of the real Alex again. No way was he letting her go a second time. She’d been there for him after his father died. They’d fallen into bed together, and she’d shown him the beauty that lay beneath the tough exterior, the girl he remembered.