Fox locked the door behind him and came toward me. I locked my knees together so I wasn’t tempted to step away. That would be a weakness, and I wasn’t weak. It also stopped me from doing something dangerous like demanding he touch me again.

He moved like a master—a man who knew how to fight and wasn’t afraid of forcing another to do his bidding.

What would he say if I told him I was a mother? Would he despise that I pretended to be a sexual creature, but really was practically a virgin? One prick to take away the title of inexperienced, and one prick to land me with Clara. Hardly counted as life-altering.

I captured my bottom lip between my teeth. I finally let myself be truthful. I was hungry. Really hungry for something true. A connection; a sexual awakening. My body wanted Fox while my mind wanted to fight him on every subject. The combination threatened to create an addiction that not even money could break.

“You’ve gone whiter than normal.” Fox leaned closer, nostrils flaring as if he could taste my panic. His eyes dropped to my throat. “Your heart is pumping wild, and your scent is stronger.” With a tentative hand, he brushed away the loose curls resting over my shoulder. The whisper of his skin against mine had me battling lust-heavy eyes, fighting the overpowering need. “What’s wrong?”

It didn’t matter if I was inexperienced. Sex was primal, instinctual, animalistic. I felt like a world-class courtesan. A woman who’d seduced men and been seduced in turn.

Fox was every erotic fantasy I ever entertained. And he’s paying to f**k you.

The thought should’ve turned me off, but it made me wetter.

Sucking in a breath, I whispered, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Fox cocked his head, frowning. “Remember, I can smell lies.”

I met his gaze—the icy grey made me feel as if I stood in a hurling snowstorm.

The more we stared, the more my body heated, the more I wanted. Until coming to this cursed club, I’d been satisfied. I didn’t crave a man, or need a pleasurable release. I had too many things consuming me without the complication of romance. But the moment I set eyes on Fox, I knew he was different. He was a man I could lust after.

It wasn’t his looks, or skill in the ring, that drew me. It wasn’t his scar or element of ruthlessness.

It was everything.

Obsidian Fox was so much male it was terrifying. Not only handsome, he wore his flaws for the world to see and offered no apology.

Breaking eye contact, I glanced around his office. The only light came from small LED strips highlighting more metal sculptures and artwork. I’d joked about his office being a dungeon, but it was close to the truth. Black painted walls, carpet, furniture, even light fixtures.

All black.

A large graffiti artwork of a fox, hunting under the glint of the moon, graced one wall.

Peering closer, I noticed a nasty scar deforming one side of the fox’s face, just like its owner. He seemed to love symbolism. Either that or he took himself way too seriously.

Fox inched nearer until the hairs on my arm stood up. Being so close made me yearn for his touch and fear it at the same time

I stifled a shiver as Fox stopped beside me, staring at the same graffiti. From this angle, his left profile was untouched. Smooth cheeks, smooth neck, angry desolate grey-white eyes. He held himself tight and alert. Primal, untamed, yet so disciplined and remote.

“Admiring Oscar’s handiwork?”

Oscar. The blond idiot who spoke about me like I was hooker trash. I bristled, hating that the douchebag had talent. Every feather and sweep from whatever method he’d used spoke of a true artisan.

“It’s good,” I muttered. “Talented.” I glanced at Fox. He looked wild as if he didn’t belong in manmade rooms—they were cages, no matter how he decorated.

I wanted to ask why he had an obsession with black. His club name, his furniture, even his wardrobe. Did he believe he deserved no colour in his life?

Fox made a noncommittal noise, his attention turned inward. The back of my neck pricked as his body tensed.

I fell deeper into the trap of wanting to know him. “Why do you try and hide where you’re from?”

His body locked down, eyes tightened. “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answers to.”

His reluctance only made me more intrigued. “You can’t expect me not to ask questions in return for my secrets. I can tell you things I’ve sensed already. You never know…I might be as intuitive as you.” My voice was soft.

Fox glanced at me, his fists curled. “You’re confusing me with someone who gives a damn. I don’t care what you think about me. You’re mine to f**k, not to talk to and share my past.” He moved quickly, bringing the heat of his body close to mine. “Believe me, dobycha, you would not like what I have to say.”

I didn’t believe him. He wanted more than just sex. Cursing my rapidly thudding heart, I whispered, “You think I’m stupid, but I’m not. For instance, I know you use it as a weapon. Your scar.”

He scowled, facing me head on. His fingers twitched by his side.

“You were made to fight, that’s probably why you started this club, but you haven’t found peace yet. You’re angry and bitter and torn up inside and if you think you can pour all of that into me, you’re mistaken.”

He smirked, but it looked odd on his scarred face—an inhuman sneer that didn’t seem natural. “You think you’re smart? I’ll tell you something—you agreed to do the stupidest thing in your life when you accepted my offer. Not only do you think you can read me, but you’re silly enough to get swept up in the romantic notion that I’ll find redemption.”

He seemed to grow larger, more intimidating. His scar shone silver and weathered in the gloom. The air in the office thickened until it pressed heavy all around us, trapping me with a male who glared at me with hatred. “I don’t use the scar as a weapon. I use it as a warning.” His eyes flashed. “You may be able to hide your f**k-ups and mistakes, but I don’t have that luxury. My scar is a talisman. I don’t need to remember my sins—it’s visible every time I look in a f**king mirror.”

My stomach rolled as his energy buffeted me. His eyes locked onto mine, staring so hard I felt a twang deep inside when he plucked on my stupid heartstrings. “I’ll learn your sins before the month is out. But you won’t learn mine. And that’s a promise.”

Yet another promise you won’t be able to keep.

My lips parted as I sucked in an apprehensive breath. Violence tainted the air, turning it dark and smoky. It reminded me of a forest fire after it had incinerated everything in its path.

I had no intention of being in Fox’s path. His path to destruction.

I wanted to retort that he wouldn’t know my sins, but I knew the truth. He would. Normally, that would terrify me—to have another know absolutely everything about me—but in Fox’s case, even my worst sin probably wouldn’t compare to his.

A small noise sounded in my throat as Fox splayed a large hand possessively on my lower back and jerked me closer. I shivered as my h*ps connected with his hard and fast. The hot steel in his trousers branded my belly only for a moment before he pushed me non-too-gently away.

Grabbing my wrist, he yanked me across the room. “We’ll discuss the fine print at my desk.”

I slammed on the brakes.

I had a good mind to scream and kick him. I hated the way he manhandled me. How he expected me to obey implicitly. He proved he had no concept of how to treat a woman at all.

Rules.

“We need rules. You need to know the dos and don’ts around me, and I need to know them for you.” My eyes narrowed. “Rule number one. I don’t appreciate being corralled or forced to do something I don’t want to. It never worked for anyone in the past, and it won’t work for you.”

His silvery eyes glinted with interest. “Sounds like we have more in common than I thought.” Giving me a small nod, he let me go and rounded the desk to sit in the black chair behind. “Rule number one for me. Don’t disrespect me. If you have something to say, be eloquent. I don’t respond well to profanity or ridicule.”

Crap, he was right. We did have things in common.

I fumbled for my next rule. “Rule number two. I’m not a belonging you just stole and have the right to treat like dirt. If you ever pull a knife on me again, you won’t be a man anymore. You’ll be a eunuch.” My hand holding my blade reached up and re-secured the clip into place.

His lips twitched. Placing his palms on the desk, he leaned forward. “Rule number two for me. If I ask you to do something, you’ll do it. Think of the next month’s pay as a salary for being my employee. It doesn’t matter that sex is in involved. I want more from you than just the pleasure of sinking between your legs.” His voice roughened, eyes glowing with white hot lust.

My stomach flipped at the mental image of him taking me. Fucking me. Despite my best efforts to remain aloof, a tingle darted to my core, and I had the sudden urge to sit down. Clearing my throat, I sat in the only chair in front of his desk.

Tension curdled as Fox stayed frozen, watching my every move. I crossed my legs, pressing my thighs together against the throbbing desire permeating the room.

Announcing our rules had suddenly become more than just talk about business, it’d become layered with unspoken attraction and frightful uncertainty. I’d never had to fight my body’s reaction before. I’d never come across a man who I wanted to strip to the bone and discover everything he kept hidden.

Not even Clara’s father.

Not that it would be considered a love affair. He’d taken my virginity behind the toilet block in Hyde Park. It’d been messy, awkward, and a little painful. It wasn’t rape, but it wasn’t exactly consensual either. I’d been a stupid, reckless fifteen-year-old who thought she could tease and not pay the consequences.

Fox shattered my reminiscing. “Rule three for you?”

The stress in my body returned, mirroring the anxious strain in the room. Fox never took his eyes off me, effectively pinning me against the chair. I no longer focused on my surroundings. This man had the power to steal my every thought.

“Rule three,” I began, my voice huskier than before, “umm, I expect you to treat me as more than just a sex toy. I need mental stimulation and would appreciate if you spoke to me kinder rather than like a giant gorilla who thinks he’s top authority.”

My mind raced between the threat of sex and the allure of money.

What sort of mother am I?

Fox’s lips flickered into a quick smile before he smoothed his features.

He tilted his head in vague agreement. “Rule three for me, I’ll give you the mental stimulation you need, but in return I expect everything. I ask a question—you give me the truth. I ask you to do something—you do it.”

Snapping his fingers like I’d seen him do on the fighting floor, his voice darkened. “While you’re in my house under my protection, you’ll forget about the outside world. Your friends, your family, your entire life no longer exists. Just me.”

My heart bucked as true fear rushed back and doubt crept in. I’d learned how to sneak and stay hidden from my childhood—I just hoped I could use those skills to disappear at night to see Clara. Fox would never have to know, and I could hug and kiss my daughter while making sure she stayed happy and well.

I nursed my own deception even as I accepted his rules.

“Do I need a medic to run a sexual health test on you? Are you on the pill?”

I should’ve been prepared for that question. Of course, he wouldn’t want to wear condoms for a month. But I hadn’t rehearsed my answer.

Old pain rose as memories tried to cloud me.

Fox sat forward. His eyes narrowed, sensing my reluctance.

I dropped my gaze. My fingers swooped up to fiddle with the matching star necklace Clara and I wore. The familiarity of the silver helped calm me.

I’d been eighteen. A struggling mother with a bratty two-year-old, working all hours of the day to support us. I’d been so wrapped up in my worries, I hadn’t heard the footsteps behind me.

“Give us your money, bitch.”

One moment I stood on two feet, the next I kissed asphalt.

Four pairs of legs surrounded me, all male, all young, and full of something to prove.

Without a word, I fumbled for my bag and gave the thirty dollars and twenty-five cents that I had in cash.

“That’s it? Where’s the rest of it?”

What followed hurt too much to relive. I’d been lucky, I supposed. I wasn’t raped, but there were only so many kicks to the stomach that a young body could sustain until infertility occurred.

I’d spent a week in hospital while my precious toddler had been looked after by an elderly woman who lived above us.

“Tell me. What are you thinking?” Fox growled.

A chill eased through my blood, helping me remain cool and unfeeling. “I’m clear from diseases, and you don’t need to worry about contraception.” My voice hardened. “I’m not going to sleep with you until I know your history, too. As part of my rules, I need to know you’re clean.”

His shoulders tightened and jaw ticked, but he nodded slowly. “I’m clean. You have nothing to fear from me.” Darkness shadowed his eyes for just a moment followed by a flippant hand gesture. “I’m taking sleeping with bastards for cash is a new thing for you?”

My mouth hung open. “There you go again. I thought we’d made progress—that’d I’d judged you too harshly, but nope. You’re still an ass**le.” Swiping a hand through my tangled hair, I snapped, “I’ve already told you I’m not a whore, and I’m not answering anything that’s disrespectful. I promised I wouldn’t disrespect you, so don’t do it to me.”