The tips of his fingers dug into the back of my neck and his face dipped closer. Once he had all of my attention he went on.

“I do not share what’s mine. Period. Not ever. You can lay under me and try to bullshit but I know you feel it the same as me. I know it started for you the first time you saw me. I know it because you didn’t hide your disappointment seeing me at the club. At the time I didn’t get it, now I do. It started for me at the second party I went to, and I saw you in that red dress.”

I knew the red dress Adam was talking about; it was the only one I owned. Red wasn’t my color but when I found an Alexander McQueen in a consignment store in Thousand Oaks, I couldn’t pass it up. The dress fell mid-thigh, only gave away a hint of cleavage, and was tight but not so tight I had to suck in my stomach all night or wear a pair of those annoying tummy shapers, making the dress sexy without being trashy.

I loved that he remembered the dress, but I didn’t love where this conversation was headed.

“I’m not yours,” I rebuffed. “I won’t bullshit you and deny I was disappointed you’re a member. Given our current position, obviously, I find you attractive. But my rules are my rules, and I don’t date members and I do not share, ever.”

“But you’ll fuck them,” he rasped then added, “in private.”

His accusation tore through me, ripping me to shreds.

I was all for women getting what was theirs however they wanted to get it. The old and tired double standard was just that—tired and old. Men who played the field and had sex with whomever they wanted had always been a-okay but when a woman enjoyed sex however that came about, she was looked upon poorly.

Fuck that.

Women liked good sex just as much as men and I suspected women really liked great sex. Unfortunately, in my limited experience, I’d only had mediocre to good sex but that didn’t mean I wasn’t on the lookout for the elusive ten out of ten and I felt no shame in that.

But the way Adam had spat the words made me feel…icky.

Elise, I reminded myself.

“Who I fuck is none of your business, just like who you fuck is none of mine. Now, since we’re done here, get off me.”

He didn’t get off me, oh no, his eyes narrowed and he stayed right where he was.

I’d seen enough of those crime shows to know I should’ve been worried I had an angry man pinning me to the bed. I didn’t know Adam from well…Adam, but for some reason, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Not physically.

I bet all the dead-in-a-ditch women thought the same thing before they were strangled to death.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me you understand me. Until this is done, you’re mine. Again, I do not share. You want the same from me, you got it. So we’re clear on that, while I’m at the club I will not touch or be touched—that’s yours and only yours.”