Dollars (Dollar #2)

by Pepper Winters

  To her.

  DECIDE, PIM.

  Right here, right now.

  Elder had given me a choice as he plummeted into the abyss. He’d laid down a challenge that until a few days ago, I would never have risen to.

  But now…now, I was more Tasmin than Pimlico. More daring than afraid.

  It’s time for me to start believing in myself again.

  My hands shook as I tore off the unwanted dress. My head fell back as freedom kissed my skin. And panic washed over my healing tongue and down my throat as I moved to the edge of the yacht.

  Right here, right now.

  Decide.

  My toes inched over the edge of the deck.

  I took a deep breath.

  And leapt.

  A SPLASH WRENCHED me from the deep.

  Kicking hard, I broke the surface, earning a face full of sea froth as something landed beside me.

  What the—

  Moonlight and stars were a sorry excuse for lights, but the ghostly glow of the yacht gave just enough illumination as Pimlico erupted from the ocean, her dark hair now black, her skin white, and fading bruises marble and slate in the night.

  My mouth opened, pouring uninvited salt into my lungs.

  Holy fuck.

  She jumped.

  She’d had the guts even from such a height.

  This girl who battled me silently and somehow unravelled my level of control yet again surprised me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she spat out a mouthful of ocean and spread her arms to stay afloat.

  After everything she’d been through, she was still one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. Her very injuries were what made her fucking stunning.

  The delicate starkness of her collarbone. The arch of her chin and resolute distrust and unfailing strength in her blue gaze.

  In the three days I’d left her, she’d eaten and rested. Her skin had taken on a porcelain glow, no longer sallow or unwell. She was healing—accepting my care, even if she did continuously search for what I would expect in return.

  “You jumped.” My voice was thicker than I’d intended as my gaze travelled to her mottled chest where that fucking bastard had hurt her.

  The dark water hid everything else, but my mind remembered how willowy she was when naked, even while on her knees or hunched for a reprimand. When she was nude, Pim was no longer a recovering slave but a goddess slowly learning to live again.

  It fucking hurt that the obsession inside wanted to take that life and bend it to my will—to use her strength for my benefit. To master her power for my own.

  I’d hoped the joint I smoked would’ve taken the edge off tonight. Having yet more blood on my hands and the intolerable urge to rip Pimlico apart to learn her secrets drove me insane.

  I didn’t smoke often but the thick lethargy that normally came from inhaling cannabis was muted tonight. Yes, it affected me a little. I’d meant what I said about her not being safe around me. However, the slight buzz in my veins meant I could tolerate her being close without risking myself or her—for now.

  Pimlico twirled in the water, facing the behemoth looming over us. Her lips parted as if shocked she’d actually done it.

  Goddammit, I wished I hadn’t been underwater. I would’ve killed to see her standing there, naked and poised, battling her fear and winning.

  Brushing away droplets from my eyes, I grinned. “Was it frightening? Or exhilarating?”

  She turned back to face me, pride shining in her gaze. She obviously hadn’t thought what jumping would mean. That she’d be down here, swimming with a man she shouldn’t trust.

  “What made you do it?” I treaded water, keeping a couple of metres between us. “Was it the thought that you’d survived worse than heights? Or the fact that if you landed wrong, the worst that could happen would be a broken back?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Perhaps you hadn’t thought about the broken back.”

  Her lips pressed together.

  I wanted to order her to open her mouth, to show me how her tongue looked. I’d done my own research on tongue injuries, and according to medical papers online, that particular muscle healed faster than others.

  Her swelling should be mostly gone. She should be able to talk…soon.

  The tide whipped us this way and that with gentle currents—some hot, some cool. Pimlico tired quickly, her arms waving in the water, fighting to stay buoyant.

  “How long is it since you’ve swum?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but her blue gaze shot answers. Answers that signified a long time.

  Other questions trailed on the back of that one, but I let them go.

  I could interrogate her later—when she wasn’t using her energy to stay alive.

  Kicking, I propelled myself forward, closing the couple of metres separating us. “Every day, you surprise me.”

  Her gaze widened, her eyes trailing from my nose, to my lips, to my chin. The way she watched me made my body harden beneath the waves. Perhaps, by admitting that, I’d surprised her in return.

  “Are you feeling better?” A current pushed me forward, closing the final distance between us.

  I’d been in her company enough now not to expect a reply. However, her barely noticeable nod overrode the pot in my system, making my heart race.

  “I’m glad.” We stared at each other, neither of us looking away.

  Either fate was working with us for once or Pimlico deliberately swam closer. So close, her body heat warmed me through the tide only centimetres away.

  We both sucked in a breath as the ocean bumped us together.

  Bare skin to bare skin.

  Pim silently gasped, her arms spreading like wings to push away.

  I didn’t know if it was the relaxant drug or my intolerable urge to know her, but my leg moved forward, wrapping around hers.

  She jolted as I pulled her forward, my ankle curled around hers. My left arm came up, looping around her lower back.

  She shuddered as the rest of the ocean was deleted, sandwiching our nakedness together. I gritted my teeth as her soft breasts and tiny form wedged against my bulk. “Fuck…”

  Her gaze glittered in the dark as her hands landed on my shoulders, pushing me down to keep herself above the waves, trying to break my embrace.

  I just held on.

  My legs worked harder to keep us afloat, but I had no intention of releasing her when she felt so goddamn good.

  We didn’t say a word as we hovered in the water, glaring at each other, trying to decide what should come next. I’d toyed with her at Alrik’s. I’d asked for a night with her because I was fucking attracted to her—not to her skinny body and abuse, but to the soul inside. The soul that’d almost flickered out.

  I wanted her.

  So fucking much.

  My heritage spoke of contradictory things. There were arranged marriages in my family and then there was true love. My great-grandparents had been an arranged marriage. But my mother and father…that had been kismet and the ideal on which my childhood fantasies about love were based.

  They were born for each other.

  No question.

  Which was why I was cursed for what I did.

  Pimlico wriggled in my grip. My dulled senses couldn’t prevent the exquisite sensation of her warm skin interspersing with cool liquid on my body.

  I groaned. Loudly.

  I was so bloody thankful I’d smoked before she’d found me. There was no way I could’ve tolerated holding her this close without losing my goddamn mind.

  Even with the thick fog of calm, I still struggled to keep the addiction at bay. To avoid admitting that I’d wanted this girl since I met her and that desire wasn’t fading…it was only amplifying.

  The one kiss and touch I’d permitted myself were no longer enough.

  Not at all.

  She licked her lips, questions drowning her that I wanted her to ask so I could ask my own.

  “Is this another
first for you, Pim?” I whispered, reminding her of the intimacy between us when I’d kissed her that night. How I’d touched her and painted erotic images in both our minds about delivering pleasure she’d never had.

  “The first time a man has held you without sticking his cock inside you the moment he could?”

  The sexually violent question made her muscles lock. She flinched, digging her fingers into my shoulders.

  I should let her go. I shouldn’t ask such things.

  I couldn’t help myself. “You never answered me what other firsts you’ve been denied. I think it’s time we deleted a few.” My eyes locked onto her lips. “I brought you here for a reason. Perhaps that reason was to fuck you out of my system.”

  Her breathing caught.

  My cock hardened at the shock on her face, followed by a contorted mix of disgust, loathing, and fear.

  I’d never had a woman look at me with such a recipe of hate.

  Shit, it turned me on.

  My leg tightened around hers, forcing my aching dick to press against her hollow stomach.

  She gasped, turning rigid in my arms.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t break another promise tonight.” I traced my fingertip over her forearm. “I’ve already broken a few by touching you. Best to keep the rest for another time.”

  Her foot kicked, doing its best to dislodge me.

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t take other things from you, though.”

  I knew the right thing to do would be to let her go. She’d requested in her silent way to end this.

  And I would, just not quite yet.

  Cupping her nape, I brought her forehead to nudge against mine. Nuzzling her with my nose, I let go of my self-control, allowing the intense intoxication I always lived with to escape. “Do you know what I’d do if your tongue was healed?”

  I didn’t know if it was her, the pot, or the night swim, but I was free for the first time in a very long time.

  Her nostrils flared as if expecting me to request her voice again.

  However, that wasn’t the reason I wished her tongue was cured. Not right now.

  Sandwiching her breasts against my chest, I breathed, “I wish it was healed so I could kiss you.”

  Her gasp was audible this time, sending my heart bucking.

  So she does have vocal cords.

  She could speak. How had stubbornness and silence kept her alive for so long?

  She stared harder, fear, mistrust, hatred, even annoyance crossed her face. Her gaze darted to my lips as I deliberated kissing her despite her denial.

  Some of her annoyance faded, replaced with feathery breathing, brushing her nipples against my chest.

  I swallowed my groan as the same hint of vacancy overrode her mistrust. Shutters clamped down over her soul, protecting herself the same way she did with Alrik, while at the same time, sacrificing herself to whatever I wanted.

  It doesn’t work that way.

  Not with me.

  My free arm cut angrily through the water. “You think you can compartmentalize your feelings? That you can give me your body but not your mind?”

  She bit her lip, her dark hair swirling in the tide. I didn’t like the judgmental way she watched me, already condemning me to hell.

  Bringing her face closer, I whispered harshly, “When I kiss you again, you’ll want me to kiss you. You won’t look as if I’m taking something from you. You’ll beg me to give you something you desperately want.” Dragging my lips over her salty-cheekbone, I ordered my body to behave even as our legs bumped and my cock jerked to sink inside her—if only to prove a point.

  To show her sex felt fucking awesome.

  Even if she hadn’t experienced such ecstasy yet.

  She’s not ready.

  As much as I wanted to rush ahead and take her, I refused to damage her psyche when her thoughts were more valuable to me than her body.

  My fingers looped around her seaweed hair, tightening just enough to wrench her head back. “I order you to forget everything that that bastard did to you. None of that was sex. That was abuse, and it won’t happen again. You’re a woman beneath whatever slave he turned you into, and when I fucking kiss you, I expect a woman to kiss me back not a slave to shut me out. Do you understand?”

  She flinched, her eyelashes sparkling with droplets. Her jaw worked, but beneath her rage, the mildest form of agreement glowed. She wanted to be normal. Despite her fighting me, she secretly hoped I’d smash her cage and teach her how to be free.

  Well, I’d help her be normal.

  But not tonight.

  Her body softened infinitesimally as she licked her lips. My cock immediately reacted, understanding her message. In some small part of her…she wanted me to kiss her. Tongue stitches, black ocean, and whatever chaos existed between us be damned.

  Fuck.

  It took all my strength to shove her away from me. “Goodnight. I trust you can find your own way back.”

  She sucked in a breath as I relinquished her to the ocean. For a moment, she frowned, then shook her head with a scowl.

  I chuckled. “Is that disappointment, silent one?”

  Her scowl turned into a snort.

  “Despite what you think, you already look at me differently. You might hate the thought of what I’ll one day do to you. You might fear the thought of my cock inside you and my body smothering yours, but a small part of you wants me to do it.”

  She jolted; a small splash from her fingers decorated the blackness.

  I cocked my head. “Why is that? So you can stop wondering who I am and label me the same as your previous master? Or…” I rubbed my lips in promise. “Is it because you’re sick of pain and want pleasure instead?”

  She scoffed, her arms spreading wide to swim away.

  I should shut my mouth and let her go, but I liked making her uncomfortable. Words wouldn’t leave scars, but they could slice open old ones. “Beware of what you wish for, Pim.” I lowered my voice, thick and heavy over the waves. “Next time I kiss you, you’ll be wet and feel pleasure you’ve long since been denied. You’ll come. I won’t tolerate otherwise.”

  Her head tilted up in defiance coupled with the tentative hope that I could achieve what I’d promised. That when I took her, it wouldn’t be rape but entirely consensual and mutually enjoyed.

  Ducking underwater, she vanished.

  I didn’t panic, counting the wet thuds of my heart in the eardrum created by the sea. A few moments later her head broke the surface by the Phantom.

  Grabbing the bottom ladder rung, she hauled herself from the depths and shimmied up the side of my yacht—broken hand and all.

  Fuck, what a woman.

  Her naked ass as she climbed was as perfect and inviting as the moon.

  WHAT THE HELL is he doing?

  What the hell am I doing?

  What the hell happened to me last night?

  First, I’d jumped off the damn yacht.

  Second, I didn’t shut down when he gathered me against his wet, naked body.

  Third, I didn’t blush when he spoke about sex and coming.

  And fourth…and this was the worst one…

  Fourth, when he’d pulled me close as if to kiss me, I’d wanted him to. For a split second, I forgot how much I hated sex and remembered how good he’d made me feel at the white mansion.

  I wanted to feel that again.

  I wanted to feel that way all the time because then I wouldn’t have to feel everything else. Every bruise. Every bone. I could…forget.

  But then he’d pulled away and growled rules and regulations—warning me I wasn’t a slave he wanted, yet he wanted the woman I could become.

  Only…I don’t know who that is.

  All I knew was that while in his care, I’d had the gift of sunshine and travel and wind. I’d wished upon stars not hidden behind glass, and my skin became honey-kissed from being outside rather than pasty, sickly white.

  I wasn’t stupid.

  Every
gift would have to be paid back. I just expected him to demand payment now—while I was still subservient and very aware of my place as a pleasure toy. Why would he want me to be any different?

  If he let me continue gluing my shattered pieces together, I’d be like normal women.

  I’d have opinions and rules of my own. I might not let him sleep with me. Was that what he wanted? The challenge? The chase? A girl to fight him rather than a slave to submit?

  But why?

  If he wanted a relationship, why hadn’t he met someone in a bar, or however free people met these days? Why me? Why piss off my dead owner for one night with me—with the intention of fucking me with force, only to let me sleep unmolested then bring me back to life?

  It doesn’t make any sense!

  I clutched my head.

  Stop it. Focus on the present, remember. The future does not matter. It can’t matter. Not when you have no control over it.

  Breathing hard, my fingers slipped from my skull to my lap.

  Whatever Elder’s end game was, I had to admit, he’d started something between us that terrified me. Whenever he was around, my insides twisted and liquefied. Mostly from intense awareness in case he snapped, but partly due to that damn kiss between us.

  What had he done? How did he switch the frigid ice in my blood to a cosy fire?

  I didn’t know, and as much as I tugged on teenage memories of chatting with girlfriends about which pop stars got us wet and what fantasies made us hot, I still struggled with hating sex.

  I shouldn’t want sex.

  I didn’t want sex.

  But Elder…he was different.

  I want him.

  Not in the physical sense, but his disappearance the past few days had shown me I wanted to be near him. He terrified me, yes. But he terrified other people too, and while he was around, I was safe.

  Aren’t I?

  Am I safe?

  Oh, my God. Stop.

  Maybe I should’ve kissed him last night?

  Perhaps, I should’ve closed the distance between us and took what he wouldn’t.

  But why would you do that?

  Because I’d treated him with suspicion and rage? I didn’t trust him or his word but it didn’t mean I shouldn’t apologise.