His Obsession (8 page)

He stared at the tiny teardrop on his hand, and I cried harder, until I couldn't even see him. "Why don't I feel satisfied?" he said finally.

I could barely find breath. "Because," I choked out, "I'm not your enemy. I'm your friend."

"Oh," he said quietly. "Oh, no."

His hands alighted on my shoulders and he drew me to him again. I cried harder, and now the thrumming sound of helicopters was so loud they drowned out the roar of the sea.

"I'm sorry," he shouted in my ear. "I'm sorry I broke you."

If I hadn't been so overwhelmed I would have kneed him right in his precious nuts. "You didn't break me, you cock!" I screamed over the helicopters. "Crying doesn't mean that at all!"

I felt his bewilderment rolling off him. "Then why would you cry?"

My hands came up of their own volition, tangling in his hair, pulling him down for a desperate, tear-stained kiss., and when I released him there was a strange sheen in his own eyes "Because," I yelled, "I do understand. I'm listening to you, Malcolm. I've been listening to you since the moment we met! Everything you say, I've heard it. I'm
listening,
you
dumb motherfucker."

His hands came up and cupped my face and he leaned in, our foreheads touching. From the corner of my eye I saw men in riot gear sliding down ropes to the deck of the ship. "Then listen," he said. "Listen to me."

"I am!"

He closed his eyes. "You win, Sadie. You
win
. When you get back to New York, the white vase is yours." And then we were torn apart and thrown to the deck by violent hands, and the last thing I saw as someone dragged me below was Malcolm watching me from where he lay prone, three men standing over him, their yells drowned out by the throb of the helicopters, until the whole world was chaos.

He never took his eyes from mine.

To be concluded in
His Masterpiece (The Billionaire's Muse, #5)!

Want to stay updated on my new releases?
Sign up for my update list here!

Want teasers, news, and special offers?
Sign up for my newsletter here
!

Ava Lore was raised by wombats and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing
erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.

You can email Ava Lore at [email protected], follow her on twitter (@authoravalore) or visit her at authoravalore.com. She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans.

Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let her know!