Page 83 of A King’s Obsession

He looks at me like the answer should be obvious. “You my woman.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He doesn't smile or look away, which tells me he means every word.

When he steps closer, I put my hand against his chest. “You don’t get to just decide I’m your woman. That is not how relationships work.”

“Maybe not yours.” His hand closes loosely around my wrist. “I’m not fucking with nobody else, Jru, and I don’t want nobody else fucking with you. I moved you into my house because I want you there. I’m doing business with you because I believe you can handle that shit. So yeah, you my woman.”

The crazy part is he says it like there’s nothing left to discuss.

“I don’t need you taking care of me.” I keep my hand against his chest, refusing to let him think all this money is going to change who I am.

“I know.” His answer comes so easily that I almost don't know what to do with it.

His answer catches me off guard, and he must see it on my face because his voice loses some of its edge.

“I know you can take care of yourself. That don’t mean I gotta sit around and watch you struggle just so you can prove it.” His thumb moves gently against my wrist, and for once, he isn't trying to argue me into agreeing with him.

I look away, because I don’t have a smart response ready for that one. What I do have is a problem with not making my own money, and I tell him that.

Ezra doesn’t argue. If I want to work at Vice until the restaurant opens, he’ll put me back on the schedule.

That eases something in me.

“You’re still bossy,” I tell him, looking back at his face.

“Yeah.” He doesn't even attempt to deny it.

“And possessive.” I raise my eyebrows, waiting to see what he has to say about that.

A grin tugs at his mouth as his hand settles around my waist. “Very.”

“That’s not cute.” I try to keep my expression serious, but he's already looking at me like he knows better.

“You like that shit.” He pulls me a little closer, watching my face.

“Who told you that?” I challenge him, lifting my chin.

“That face you making.” His grin widens, and I know I've already lost this argument.

I try to turn away before he sees me smile, but he pulls me closer and kisses me.

By the time he lets me go, my hand is gripping the front of his shirt. “So this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His face twists. “Girlfriend sound young as fuck.”

“You are old.” I laugh, enjoying the way his expression changes.

“Keep playing.” He narrows his eyes, but the smile tugging at his mouth ruins whatever threat he's trying to make.

I laugh. “What am I then?”

His eyes stay on mine. “Mine.”

Of course that would be his answer.

He presses the Mercedes key into my palm, and when I remind him that I still haven’t agreed to any of this, he opens the driver’s door.