nothing for himself. Even the affairs he’d allowed himself had been hurried one-nighters while he’d been away on business, or a few dates here and there with women he met through work. Sex to satisfy his body, nothing more.
But having Kara had satisfied something hungry in his soul.
You’re my property…
Jesus. He’d said that to her. To the woman he’d known since she was thirteen years old. Snarky, sarcastic, virgin Kara. He’d just taken control, turned her into his sex slave. And initially he’d done it to make it easier for her, giving her the benefit of his expertise. But the deeper they’d gone into the fantasy, the more a very male and primitive part of him had taken over. Oh, he’d given her opportunities to tell him no, he was sure he had. But had she really understood that she could? It had all been new to her and he’d…he’d…
He’d taken everything. And then at the end, he left her naked on her knees as he’d walked out.
You prick.
“Fuck,” Vin murmured again as a coil of self-loathing tightened inside him.
Had she really wanted it? Or had he fooled himself into thinking she did? He should have called her, apologized. But he hadn’t. Because even though a part of him was shocked at his own behavior, that primitive part had reveled in it. And that part wasn’t sorry. Oh no, that part of himself didn’t regret a single bloody thing.
In the car-park outside, a door slammed, the sound jolting him. Making him aware he’d been sitting there navel-gazing for the past five minutes.
The anger was still simmering away inside him and going over what he’d done with Kara in all its Technicolor glory didn’t help. But he started the car and pulled out of the car-park anyway.
He’d planned on heading straight back to Fox Chase but soon found himself going in a different direction and parking in the upper part of town. Even then he couldn’t work out what he was doing there until he saw the sign.
Manga Café Xtreme. Kara’s café.
Vin parked the car, trying to figure out why the hell his subconscious had brought him here. Though of course, deep down, he knew.
He wanted her again. Wanted those moments again. Where he had something that was his. Utterly and totally his.
He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. That he’d done what he’d told her he’d do, taken her virginity, and that was it. But still he put a hand to the door and still he went inside.
The place was full of university students and other weirdoes. Lots of gothic clothing and piercings and strange hair. Chicks wearing odd, flouncy dresses and guys who…well, looked like chicks. He didn’t judge people, they could wear whatever the hell they liked as long as they weren’t his sister. Each to their own, even if it was bizarre.
But he ceased to notice all the other bizarreness as he spotted the woman making coffee behind the counter.
Kara. Her blue hair had been pulled back in a ponytail high on the back of her head. She wore an over-sized black T-shirt with a wide neck that fell off one shoulder, exposing smooth golden skin, and a denim mini-skirt. With striped stockings complete with black suspenders. And Doc Martens.
Christ, she was weird. And strange. And sexy as hell.
He found himself unable to breathe, unable to move. Staring at her as she made the coffee, her movements quick, efficient and professional. How could making coffee be so damn hot? How could he feel himself getting hard just watching a strangely dressed, beautiful blue-haired woman work?
Kara looked up suddenly and he met her gaze—not purple this time but bright green—watching as a tide of color began to creep up her neck, washing over her face, flushing her cheeks. Her mouth opened, that sweet, full mouth he’d tasted not two nights ago.
And everything abruptly became crystal clear.
For fifteen years what he’d wanted had come secondary to everything else and for fifteen years he’d put up with it. Well, no more. He’d had a taste of
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