Mine for Tonight

Chapter 6

She was dictating to her, telling her how to run her life, and instinctively, she wanted to rebel. 

Nicki let go of a frustrated breath. 

Beyonce's gaze was immovable and inflexible. 

No compromise, then. 

It was her way or the freeway. 

Did she really have a choice? 

She could look for a shelter, but it would mean giving up school for now and messing up the whole program. 

"What about my insurance, my benefits? What about the restaurant?" 

"Mom's place will be fine. She has waitresses who want to be full-time." 

Nicki flinched as she made the statement, knowing it was true. 

There were other employees who would be only too happy to step into her full-time position. 

"And I'll make sure that you stay on COBRA. You won't lose your insurance." She searched her eyes, trying to read her, but Beyonce was a mystery to her. 

Why was she doing this? 

Did she trust her? 

She hardly knew her. 

She trusted Tina, and Tina adored her daughters. 

"Okay. I'll do it. But you need to keep track of the funds and I'll pay you back." 

"No deal." 

"You said you only had that one condition." She drained her coffee, trying to keep her hands steady by grasping both sides of the mug. 

She shrugged. "It's an add-on since you tried to change the original terms." 

"What are you getting out of all of this? I'm going to disrupt your privacy, take your money, and you get nothing?" She gaped at her, baffled by the whole arrangement. 

"I don't want your money. Can't you just take the help without questioning my motives? I want to help," she balked in an uneasy voice, finishing the last of her coffee, slamming the cup back to the table with an impatient whack. 

"I want to do something, give you something for your trouble. I've always paid my own way." 

Agitated, she stood and collected the cups. 

She took them to the sink and rinsed them before putting them in the dishwasher. 

Honestly, she should be kissing Beyonce's feet in gratitude, but being in her debt somehow bothered her. 

She wasn't used to taking. 

From anyone! 

She was a survivor, doing what she needed to do just to stay one step ahead of poverty. 

This was so foreign, so freaking confusing. 

Nicki turned around and slammed into Beyonce's powerful body, a force that easily kept her body from advancing. 

The lady was like concrete, fixed and immobile. 

She put her hands on her solid, strong biceps to steady herself. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, but Beyonce didn't move away. 

"There's only one thing I want from you, Nicki." Her voice was low and husky and she bent down and inhaled, as though she were breathing in her scent. 

She slapped a hand on each side of the counter, pinning her. 

The lady was like a seething kettle of testosterone, and every female hormone in her body was rising to happily meet the masculine lure.