Page 11 of Tyler's Rule
Still holding the knife in one hand, I hooked the neckline of my top with the other, tugging it aside over my collarbone. “This?”
His gaze followed the touch and reveal. The so-tame hint of flesh. Oh God, this should’ve been the easiest act around. Seduction had been my bread and butter for years. Any girl could make herself pretty. Clothes, makeup, surgery. I’d perfected them all. But getting a man to part with his cash for an hour of your time took skill that was rarer. Much harder to learn.
I’d been an expert.
I knew how to do this. That didn’t mean I could. My brain was short-circuiting. I couldn’t do this slow.
Grasping my hem, I stripped the top right over my head, throwing it away to reveal my pretty bra and even prettier titties. Tyler’s gaze dipped to my chest.
I knew I was hot. I’d spent cash on my flesh to ensure it. The panic I hadn’t been able to feel earlier came back in spades.
I shook so much that I dropped the knife.
“I can’t.” I backed away, my fingers coming up to cover my mouth. “I can’t do that. I don’t do that anymore. I haven’t since…”
Since the client tried to rape me.
Tyler hadn’t moved. He did so now, a hand coming up in a gesture of calm though he breathed as hard as I did. “I’m not asking that.”
Through tear-filled eyes, I stared at him.
“You want me,” I spluttered. “You went to all this effort. Why don’t you just take me?”
He clamped his jaw.
I couldn’t stop. “Put me on the floor. Fuck me. Then let me go. I’ll get over it. I won’t tell a soul.”
He cursed and stripped his shirt. “Put this on.”
I could swear his hand shook. And I had to be freaking out more than I registered, because that tiny act of humanity nearly broke me. I shrugged on the t-shirt to cover myself, shivering in his warmth.
When I was done, Tyler brought his focus back to me. “No one will ever touch ye again unless ye want it. Me included.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Because everyone has always treated ye like ye don’t matter. I promise it. Tyler’s rule. Now, we’re going to eat, and after we can talk. One step at a time.”
Chapter 4
Dixie
A food coma had me dozy, my outburst already blurred at the edges. How easily my guard could slip. Had to stay sharp.
Tyler reached across the kitchen island and took my bowl. “More?”
“I’m full, thanks. You’re a good cook, for a psycho.”
It wasn’t a lie. The meal had been delicious.
I drifted after him as he cleared up the kitchen. Any other person in any other circumstance, and I’d be offering my help. It felt strange not to.
I sipped my water and held my ground. “When you say there are people hunting me, who do you mean? The killer of Karla and…was it Esther?”
Tyler sprayed disinfectant on the stainless-steel sink and wiped it over. “How much are ye aware of the Marchant family name being in the press recently?”
“I saw a headline. Other than hearing from Lovelyn that Convict was dating Mila, I haven’t heard that name in years.”
A full stomach had loosened my tongue. Or maybe it was the mini crisis we’d shared. I’d thrown myself at him. He’d resisted. Both of us were shaken up.
