Except, even after a few seconds to process it, I still didn’t understand.
Before I could ask, he explained. “An official statement from my publicist trumps the gossip going around about you and Blakely. If anyone were to think that you might be involved with his ignorant ramblings to the press, they also needed to know that the only way to you was through me.”
It could have been the most romantic thing he’d ever said to me, especially paired with the fiercely possessive gleam in his eyes. It was a look that had the ability to make my chest tighten and my legs quiver.
But right now it only made me want to lash out. And not just because every declaration he made came with the baggage of the declarations he’d made to her, but also because I didn’t trust his motives. Was it really the only way to keep me safe? Or was it just an asshole, overprotective gesture – a jealous attempt to publicly claim me as his?
“You had no right to say anything about us without asking me.” I could barely keep my voice level. “No right.”
He loaded the gun with a magazine. “I was protecting you.”
“Your method of protection sent a bad man looking for me!” I was practically screaming.
Reeve stuffed the gun into an inside jacket pocket and slammed the drawer shut before turning around to face me. “He was going to come after you anyway, Emily. Connecting you to me made you purposeful instead of just a liability. I very likely saved your life.” He brushed past me and left the closet, switching the light off as he did.
With a huff, I chased after him and nearly bumped into him when he stopped to talk to the guard.
“I’m taking a Glock and a magazine,” he informed the man. “Here’s the serial.” He pulled out the piece from his jacket and read off a number while the guard wrote it down on a clipboard.
“Got it checked out,” the man said.
“Thanks.” Reeve continued out to the office with me on his heels, ignoring the guard’s fish-eye as I passed.
“Seriously, a gun? That’s helpful. So much better to put out press releases and carry a gun than have a fucking conversation. One simple conversation and all of this could be over.”
He was midway through the room when he stopped and spun around toward me so fast that I nearly bumped into him. “A simple conversation? There’s no way you’re that naïve, Emily. Do you really believe that’s all it’s going to be?”
“I have no basis to believe anything else since you refuse to tell me —”
“Bullshit. You don’t need to know anything other than what you already know. He killed a dog to prove a point. Those bruises on your friend? Those broken ribs? That drug habit? And you think that a few minutes of my time is all he’s after? I know you’re a smarter woman than that.”
He straightened. “Or maybe you’re not that smart because you talked to him.” His voice escalated as he spoke. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Petros approached me.” I matched his volume as if I were confident, as if his anger didn’t have me shaking in my shoes. “He had a gun! He told me to be scared!”
“You wouldn’t have been in that position if you’d stayed put like I’d told you to in the first place. He put a fist on his hip and stared at the ground, shaking his head as he let out a breath. “When Petros told me you were there…”
Petros? He’d been an utter asshole, and he’d been the one to tell Reeve?
I didn’t have a chance to ask because just then Reeve brought his fist from his hip and slammed it on the top of a nearby desk. “Jesus Christ, Emily, you make me so fucking furious. I can’t even think, I’m so goddam angry. I want to —”
He cut himself off, but his body language said he was only just barely restraining himself.
I should have let it go. I shouldn’t have challenged him.
But I was out of control too. “You want to… what?”
He lunged for me. I automatically put my hands up, thinking he was going for my throat, as if I were strong enough to push him away. He grabbed my forearms and pulled me to him so that the length of his body pressed against mine, and I could feel the rigid bulge of his cock at my pelvis. My legs went weak, and I prepared for him to kiss me, but instead he twisted my arms behind my back. Gripping my wrists with one of his hands, he circled around behind me, put a hand on my back, and pushed my torso down to the desk, hard.
“You’re hurting me,” I said, struggling to get free.
With one hand still securing my wrists, he reached under my dress to tug my panties down.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I seethed, but I was already wet, and, even though I was still fighting him, I was most definitely aroused. “I mean it, Reeve.”
He ignored me. Bracing his leg against mine to hold me still, he flipped my dress up, exposing my bare ass. Then, with a loud smack, his hand came down on my sensitive skin.
“Ow!” I tried to sit up, but he pressed his upper body against mine and spanked me again. And again. And again. Several times in succession until my eyes were watering and my ass was burning and I was so turned on that moisture was dripping down my legs.
I’d stopped struggling by the time he finally paused. I could hear him breathing heavily as he adjusted his grip on my wrists. He didn’t let me go, and I imagined him behind me, staring at my naked backside, red with his palmprint.
After several long seconds, I felt his hand slide across my stinging ass, lower, between my legs.
I bit my lip, embarrassed about how wet he’d made me, desperate to have him find out just how wet.