Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
"That looks delicious." I have a queasy stomach because I’m nervous, but I don't mention that. “But, um, if I eat dessert right now, I'm never gonna stop talking."
"Take it back," he snaps to his staff.
It's true, though. When I eat chocolate, I start talking a mile a minute and then I crash. I crash so hard.
"We'll save that for later." His words are laced with meaning.
"That sounds like an excellent idea. Now, tell me where to go and I'll go get ready for this party. Wait, what am I supposed to be wearing to this thing?”
"You look fine."
My jaw drops open. "Um, Adriano? I’m most definitely not ready for a party! I’ve got smudges on my face from my impromptu hike and my make-up’s smeared..."
"You look beautiful."
"Did you hear what I said about not falling in love with me?"
"Me telling you that you look beautiful has nothing to do with falling in love. I promise."
Hmm. We will see about that, Mr. Adriano Bruno.
"Well, thank you. But I'm not going to whatever this is tonight wearing a dress that I ripped with my bare hands."
"Formal attire. I'll be wearing a tux."
"You just told me I’m okay as is and you're wearing a tux?" Is he playing with me? Of course, he's playing with me. Dammit.
"We might need to take you shopping."
"When you say we, do you mean you and me, or does that just involve your plastic?”
"I’ll take you shopping."
"Really?"
"Why does that surprise you?"
“Um, because you're kind of an asshole?”
He casually places his napkin on the table. Folds his hands on his knee and gives me a serious look. “I’ve warned you, Quinn. I’ve given you lots of leeway. But that, love, just earned you your first spanking."
My jaw drops open, my heart beats faster, and I’m wet. Fucking masochistic tendencies…
"Why? You said you like it when I tell the truth. And you already spanked me.”
"Telling you not to lie to me isn't the same as telling you to speak whatever you think, Quinn. And that was just a test, not a full spanking.”
And just that fast, I can picture myself sprawled out over his lap while he pins me down. I think I stop breathing here for a minute.
I draw in a breath. "There's a difference between a little struggle and me saying no."
He leans back in his chair and looks meditative. "Did you have something else in mind when you talked about pain? Or did you really plan on having your cake and eating it too?"
The jerk! "Oh, fuck off, Adriano!"
His face registers a look of mild surprise before he casually mentions, "And that earned you your second spanking."
"Is there like a count now?"
"Obviously."
“Hey, I don't think I know these rules."
"I think you do. I think you're trying to get over my lap."
"What if I don't… like… over-the-lap stuff?" My voice sounds stuffy, like I'm trying to speak through slats of floorboards.
"I happen to know for a fact that that's another lie. Spanking number three."
I don't respond because it seems like every time I open my mouth he adds something to the tally. "Jesus."
"He won't help you now."
"Are you enjoying yourself yet?"
"Immensely. I'm going to enjoy myself a lot more when we begin."
I don't ask him when we begin what, because I know that it has something to do with that tally.
I give him a curious look now. "How do you know what I like and what I don’t?"
He looks away wryly and doesn’t respond to my question. “Go get ready, Quinn.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“THE BEACH”
Quinn
We pull up to a huge house overlooking the ocean. I’m tired, but weirdly energized because even though this has been a really, really long day, and even though we’re in danger, Adriano has made one thing clear: we must make this look real, and the more real, the better our chances of survival.
I can do this. I can totally fucking do this.
So even though I could use a nice, long bath and a good night’s sleep, preferably involving an earth-shattering orgasm before my head hits the pillow, I am on.
“Wow, honey,” I say, reaching a tentative hand to Adriano’s knee. “This looks amazing. No, no. I’m more of a babe person. Babe, this is incredible.”
“Honey,” he muses. “Babe.”
I give him a winning smile and wave my fingers at him, intentionally flashing my gorgeous ring at him. “Nice fake,” I say under my breath, because man, have they improved these cubic zirconia diamonds lately.
He opens the door and smirks. “Thank you. Have you fooled, do I?”
And isn’t that tonight’s theme?
I hadn’t expected a camera crew outside the door of the limo. I hadn’t expected the satin runway or flower petals, the flashing cameras, or the crowd. But what takes me the most by surprise is the warm, comforting pressure of his hand at the small of my back. The way he glides my fingers effortlessly to his elbow and escorts me as if he’s Prince Charming and I’m Cinderella, but these are no enchanted mice in this kingdom. The cloying scent of power and greed overwhelms me as women in designer dresses and men in expensive suits stare at the two of us with fake smiles, raising drinks in our supposed honor.