“I still can't believe just how much . . . stuff you bought!” Madison says as we come through the door of my penthouse. “Seriously, George Carlin was right. We’re on a pursuit of stuff.”

“Yeah, well, for now, let’s put it here,” I grunt, putting the dress down on the quartz countertop in my kitchen. So sleek on the body, but damn if that thing doesn’t take up a huge garment bag like nobody’s business.

“That works. Like I said, I’ve got no space for any of this at home. And if I drag all this in the door, Tiff is going to be all over me like white on rice. I could do without her questions until I figure out how to explain this.” She sets down the bag that holds her new shoes to match her dress. “If you’re sure you don’t mind keeping it here?”

I can hear the doubt in her voice. Back and forth, back and forth. She’s like one of the scared puppies she cares for, wanting the love and attention but so scared it’s going to be jerked away. Using that analogy, I verbally approach slowly so as not to scare her jittery nerves.

“It’s no problem,” I reply before jumping in the deep end with the thoughts that have been on my mind all day. “Maybe . . . you could even bring a few more things over?”

Madison freezes and turns to me with her eyes clouding. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling a little anxious, not sure if she’s going to say yes with a whoop of delight or stomp off and slam the door behind her. I never know with her, although that’s part of the appeal.

“I like having you here. You make this cold penthouse feel full and lively. You make me feel like that too. I just want more of that, of you.”

Instead of looking happy, Madison shakes her head, looking sad and maybe a little scared. “I just . . . I–I don’t know if I can live with a man right now.”

“Huh?” I ask, a little perplexed. She had no problem staying the night, and we’ve been great most of the day, other than when I overstepped with the job thing. Am I overstepping again? Maybe, but her reaction feels . . . different from that. The job offer made her mad, angry. She seems spooked right now, curling into herself in a small way.

I brush a wisp of hair behind her ear and place my hands on her hips. “Madison, are you still scared of me? Are you still spooked about that voodoo prediction shit about my scorpion tattoo? Because if so, I can—”

“It’s not the tattoo,” she interrupts me before taking a deep breath. “It’s . . . you.”

“Me?” I ask incredulously. “What have I done to frighten you?”

Madison takes a step away from me and turns around, her arms outstretched. “It’s all of it. You, your status. Your wealth. Your lust for power. It scares me. That tattoo, the Scorpio stuff . . . I don’t really believe in it, if I’m honest, but you are a force of nature, Scott, just like a scorpion, and I don’t know if I’ll survive your sting. You really could burn me to ash so easily, and that is what terrifies me.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. I know my confidence and drive can be intimidating, but they’re the qualities I take the most pride in. “I’ve always been proud of striving to be my best.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she adds quickly when she sees the look on my face. “It’s just . . .”

Her eyes grow distant, and I know it’s something behind her mask, in the corners of her life that she hasn’t shared with me yet, but I feel like I need to know. This could be an obstacle to our future. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she says, dabbing at her eyes and trying to put on a smile. “We’re just so different, and I’m a bit of a commitment phobe, that’s all.”

“If that were it, you wouldn’t have told May I’m your boyfriend,” I reply, moving closer. “Tell me, please. You don’t care about my money, obviously don’t want it, which is unusual for me. But that means it’s something else . . . something about the combination of us that worries you. Why does my being a go-getter and being confident bother you?”

“I can’t,” Madison replies, taking a step back. I take another step forward, and she doesn’t move, which encourages me.

Placing a hand gently on her cheek, I look into her frightened eyes. “Madison, I’ve never hurt you. I never will. But please don’t shy away from me on this. Whatever it is, share it with me. Let me fix it.” I realize my mistake and instantly correct myself. “Let me carry the burden with you.”

“Scott,” she whispers, her voice faltering when I lift an eyebrow.

I stroke her cheek, reassuring her. “Tell me, why don’t you think you’re worth it? What made you think you don’t deserve to be happy? Your mother?” I prompt.

Madison’s eyes fill with tears, and she steps back, sobbing as she shakes her head. “No . . . yes . . . no. God, don’t you get it?” she asks, gesturing around again. “Nobody, no man, for damn sure, has ever treated me this way! You hand out thousand-dollar gifts like they’re Tootsie Rolls. It’s just too much, and I don’t know how to handle it! I sure as fuck know not to get used to it because it’ll only be worse when I’m back to Ramen dinners in a cold apartment because I can’t pay the heat bill again. And I’m alone, so alone.”

My sweet Princess. I’d give her the world if she’d let me. I’d have bought her a necklace ten times as much if I thought she’d have worn it. “Madison, you don’t ever have to be alone. I treat you this way because you deserve it. You are worth more than whatever baubles I can buy you at some store. You’re everything, can’t you see that?”

“I wasn’t worth shit to him, especially when he was putting his hands on me,” Madison blubbers, and it all comes together. Not her mother. A man.

My blood boils and I see red. “That son of a bitch. Give me a name.”

Madison sniffs and looks up. “Really?”

“If that’s what you want,” I affirm for her. She shakes her head like I knew she would. My girl, she’s too kind to want to hurt someone. Even if the motherfucker deserves it.

I go over to the fridge and get out two bottles of Perrier, handing her one. “Or if it would help, just tell me about it?”

Madison’s silent as she opens the sparkling water, taking a sip as we sit down on the barstools at the counter. “His name . . . his name was Rich,” she says softly, her head hanging low. I hate him already for making her feel like this. “He and I met at work.”

“Stella’s?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

“No. I was doing couple of nights a week at Stella’s, but at the time, I was also working an office job. Rich came in. He was an executive for a company and had an appointment with my boss. He was persistent and kind, brought me flowers and coffee when he came in every time after that first meeting. I was flattered, so I figured what the hell and gave him my number. We started dating not long after. Everything was peaches and cream . . . for the first couple of months or so.”

“And then?”

“It started with words. How I needed him, how he’d take care of me because without him, I couldn’t make it on my own. Then, eventually, a smack on the ass became . . . more. And each time, he’d remind me that I’d be nothing without him.”

I sit on my stool, my hand clenching around the green glass bottle of Perrier as I imagine this asshole treating Madison that way.

“It came to a head one night. He grabbed me, held my wrists really tight, and dragged me to the bedroom saying he was going to teach me a lesson I’d never forget. He pinned me down, held my wrists, and laid on top of me.” She rubs at her wrists mindlessly as she talks. “I cried out, loudly, I guess, and a neighbor knocked on the door, threatening to call the cops. Rich was worried about his image, so he stopped, but I’d already seen the truth. He crossed a line that night, and neither of us came back unchanged. So when he went to sleep, I packed a bag as quietly as I could and left.”

“Where’d you go? May’s?” I ask, horrified at her story.

Madison shakes her head. “No. Aunt May had done so much for me, I didn’t want to ask for even more unless I had no other choice. I had a key to Stella’s from when I closed up, so I went there and slept on the couch in her office. Stella came in the next morning and asked what happened. I cried as I told her the whole story and she held me. I had to hold her too because she wanted to go after Rich. But finally, I convinced her that I just wanted to live my life . . . free of him and on my own two feet. She offered me a place to stay and bumped me to full-time so I could quit my office job and I wouldn’t have to see him again.”

I nod. “Have you seen him or has he tried to contact you since?”

“No! Thank God,” Madison says, her bottle rattling a little. “He never even came to Stella’s, just wrote me off like I was nothing. I don’t know what I’d do if I did see him. Some days, I think I’d beat the shit out of him for all the times he hurt me. Others,” I admit to myself, “I’d probably just hide and avoid him.”

I growl and down the rest of my water to calm myself a little before replying. “He'd better pray to God he never comes around when you’re with me.” I see her stiffen, and I lower my voice as much as I can. “Do I really remind you of him?”

“No,” Madison admits and looks up for a minute before she continues. “It’s just those qualities you possess . . . strong, powerful, dominant, confident. Like Tiff says, it’s definitely my type. But it also makes me wonder what will happen when you don’t get what you want.”

Her words jolt me a little. I’m not going to lie. I feel very possessive of her right now. But only to protect her, not to control her. I’d never hurt her, definitely not physically, and not emotionally. But I worry I am already, just by being myself. And while I’d pluck the moon from the sky for this woman, I don’t know if I can change who I fundamentally am for her. I don’t think she’d like me if I did either.

She stares at me, noticing the turmoil on my face. She reaches up, placing a hand on my chest, and starts tracing a finger over my tattoo through my shirt, already having the lines memorized. “But I realize that those qualities don’t mean you’re like Rich. It’s just my self-doubt and insecurities. You’re a good man, Scott, and you have everything the world has to offer at your fingertips. Which makes me wonder why you’re wasting your time with someone like me.”

I place my hand over hers, lifting her hand to my lips and kissing her fingertips. “Listen to me. Your value is not determined by that asshole’s inability to see your worth. You’re not a waste of my time, and you’re more than what you realize. You’re . . . everything to me.”

I almost see her crack a smile. Almost. I stand and move behind her, drawing her close into my arms. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was hard. I think I get it better now, why you let me in, then run away. It’s scary on many levels. I’ll admit that not knowing what you’ll do, how you’ll respond, or what you’ll think is part of the mysterious intrigue about you that I love. It drives me crazy, but I fucking love it. I hope that the reverse is also true, that my ambition, possessiveness, and confidence can be the flame that draws you to me too.”

I turn her and my lips finds hers. Our kiss deepens, and I cup her soft breast through her T-shirt, causing her to whimper.

“I’ve got you,” I say, stepping back and taking her hand. She stands, and I let her lead the way, surprised when she doesn’t head upstairs but instead to my couch, where she has me sit down before straddling my lap and kissing me even more deeply.

We explore each other, taking it slow and soft even though my desire to conquer her urges me to go faster. But this is Madison’s time, the time to let her see that I don’t have to control everything every time.

Instead, I hold back, letting her place my arms behind my head. “Stay,” she whispers. I watch as she reaches down and pulls her shirt up and off, dropping it to living room floor. Wordlessly, she presses her breasts against my face, and I nuzzle them, covering the tops of them with butterfly kisses until she undoes her bra and releases them for my worship.

“Even as you worried me, you drew me in,” Madison moans as my lips find her left nipple and I suck, tugging at it lightly with my teeth. “Because you make me feel alive.”

She grinds on my lap, my cock pulsing and surging inside my jeans as she rides me. My hands clench the back of the couch with the desire to touch her skin, to feel her body with my fingertips. But I control myself, giving her what she most needs in this moment . . . reassurance that she holds all the power. Any power I ever take in our coupling is only from what she gives, and right now, she wants it all and she can have it. She can have anything, everything.

“That’s so good,” Madison murmurs as I kiss over to her other nipple. She lets me suck and nuzzle for several long moments of heaven before standing up.

Madison unsnaps her jeans and pushes them down, kicking off her untied sneakers before looking up and grinning at my still body and heated eyes. “You can take your jeans off, you know. I didn’t tie your hands.”

I grin, pulling my T-shirt over my head even though she didn’t say so and shucking my jeans and tennis shoes. My cock springs straight up, nearly arcing over to slap me in the stomach before bobbing back and forth to my heartbeat for Madison’s approval. I place my hands back over the edge of the couch behind me, giving her a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I like your being in control. Doing all the work.”

Madison grins at my challenge and saunters the short distance, straddling my hips again and taking my cock in hand. “Do all the work, huh? And if I decide the only work that’ll be done is by your right hand? What then?”

I return her grin, holding up my right hand. “On myself or your sweet little clit? Your choice.”

Madison pants softly and pumps my cock with her hand. “You say just the right things,” she says, sinking down. The head of my cock spreads her open, and she sighs, smiling at me as her hands rest on my chest, one covering the scorpion tattoo that started this whole wild ride. “Grab my ass while I fuck you.”

I obey, happy to have permission to touch her, and reach around to cup Madison’s perfect ass as she starts to rise and fall. Her pussy grips my cock as she rides, her eyes rolling back as she bounces on my cock. I let her go at her own pace, my hands supporting her as she takes what she needs.

“That’s it, beautiful,” I murmur, encouraging her. “Use me. Take what you need. I’m here for you.”

Madison’s hips speed up, rising and falling in time with our heartbeats. Her breasts sway and bounce in front of me, and I take one into my mouth as she leans back, her pussy squeezing and milking my cock while I add to the sensation.

“Scott . . . oh, fuck . . . I’m gonna . . .” she moans, riding faster and faster, leaning forward and planting her hands on the back of the sofa.

Her back arches fiercely as she takes me balls-deep, and I grab a handful of her ass, encouraging her. She cries out, overwhelmed by the feeling as her body goes over, her climax rolling through her in shuddering waves that set me off too. I’m close behind, kissing her tenderly as my cock swells, the sweetest orgasm I’ve ever felt rolling from the tips of my toes all the way through the end of my cock, both of us gasping and shaking.

“I . . . I’ve never felt that before,” I gasp as Madison lays her head on my shoulder, her body still trembling. “Never.”

“Me either,” she says softly, running a hand through her hair and sitting up, my cock still inside her.

I nod, stroking her back tenderly. “I don’t want it to stop.”

She nods and leans forward, kissing my lips tenderly.

We stay there, looking into each other’s eyes until my cock finally softens and slips out before getting up and heading upstairs. There’s no need for a round two. This time was something . . . different. Instead, I set my alarm and slide into bed, Madison joining me. After turning the lights out, she murmurs in the dark. “Scott . . . maybe I could bring a couple of things over. Nothing major, just a few T-shirts for work?”

It feels like a win, a small victory, but one nonetheless with this woman. An olive branch, one she hopes I’ll take gently and not leave her with more scars. I grin against her hair, pulling her tight against me. “A few T-shirts or your whole wardrobe, Maddie. I’m good with whatever you’re ready for. Oh, except one request.”

She looks back at me, and in the moonlight, I can see the question in her eyes. “What’s that?”

I give her a smacking kiss. “A toothbrush. I’ll get you one to keep here.” And then I wink at her cockily.

She grins and snuggles back in as my little spoon. Yep, definitely a winner, and Madison is the best prize I can imagine. That fucker Rich didn’t know what he had, but I’m fucking glad because now she’s mine, even if she doesn’t fully realize it. She’s mine, and I’m fucking hers.