He shoots me a look across the front seat of the Tahoe. “Why not?”
I wave both hands in front of me, gesturing to my makeup-free face, ripped jeans, and T-shirt that’s seen many a better day, including when I got it in college.
“I can’t be here. They’ll throw me out. It has to be a violation of some dress code no one told me about.”
The headlights illuminate the wrought-iron gate at the end of the road in front of us, and my brief moment of panic fades into the anger that I was already dying to set free.
“Turn this car around. Right now. I want to go home.” I sound like a spoiled little brat, but I don’t care. I’m not going to humiliate myself by being paraded through that gorgeous mansion wearing clothes I’d only wear to the scrap yard.
He brakes at the gate and rolls down the window before barking outSaxonto the speaker. He closes the window before I hear if there’s any response, but the gate swings open and he continues through.
“Don’t you dare do this to me. I’m not in the mood, Kane. Or Saxon. Or whoever the hell you are tonight. Take me home.”
He glances over at me. “No.”
Lord, save me from alpha males who think they can control me.
I lock my arms over my chest again. “I’m not getting out of the car. You can go right ahead and get out, and I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”
He says nothing, just puts the Tahoe in park once we reach the valet.
“I’m not doing this.” My voice wobbles, and I’d be lying if the heat of my anger hadn’t somehow managed to find its way between my legs.
I will never admit it.
When the valet opens the door, Kane gives him a nod and climbs out. I stay in my seat.
It’s not like he’s going to—
My thoughts are cut off when Kane rounds the hood and yanks open the passenger door. “Seat belt.”
“Not going.”
“Seat belt,” he repeats.
“Fuck. You.” I whisper the two words quietly enough that even the valet, who is waiting outside Kane’s open door, can’t hear them.
“No, princess. Tonight, I’m fucking the sass right out of you.”
His hand snakes out, and instead of going for the buckle like I anticipate, he reaches for the top of the belt, near my shoulder, and something flashes in the dome light. The seat belt drops into my lap before being sucked away.
A knife. No way. He didn’t.
But while I’m still grappling with the fact that Kane cut my seat belt off, he reaches for me and lifts me out of the car before tossing me over his shoulder.
“Oh, don’t you—”
“I’m taking the back entrance,” he says to someone I can’t see.
“Don’t you dare think about taking my back entrance, you ass. I said I wanted to go—”
He laughs, hefting me higher on his shoulder. “You don’t know what you need sometimes, princess. But I see it. That heat running in your blood, telling you to push against me. But what you really need is to show me exactly why you kept coming back, even when you told yourself you shouldn’t.”
I hear a creaking door, and then we’re inside and going down some stairs.
“You need someone to channel your energy. Tell you it’s okay to want more. To show you how to take more. I’m not your jailer, your assistant, or your fucking bodyguard, Temperance. I’m your man, and it’s time to remind you exactly why you want me to be.”
His declarations pummel me, and I’m too speechless to contest them because I’m stuck on one big one—I’m your man.