Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
It's not as if I can promise Jasmine a life filled with love. But I still judge Jeff for his decisions.
He has a devoted wife and a heart with a capacity for love. He should be faithful.
He should be honest.
I'm a hypocrite, yes, but I don't give a flying fuck.
I nod about what you'd expect.
She smiles of course. Turns to the conversation. Starts asking about Ian's type.
Jeff chuckles as I fill her in on Ian's reputation for inexperienced young women.
Her eyes go wide. She looks at Ian like she's not sure what to think of him. Or maybe she's playing her part. The devoted fiancée, who can simply not imagine her husband-to-be hanging out with a man so promiscuous.
The conversation shifts to business. She's perfect here too. Asking questions as if she's interested in the details. They aren't interesting to most laypeople. Zeroes on a merger. The conglomerate that owns this company has all sorts of say.
"Yes, sometimes, we have strange terms on our agreements." Jeff's statement pulls me back to attention. "Especially when it comes to one of our board members." His eyes flit to me. "He likes to test people. To see what he can accomplish."
"How?" Jasmine leans in, intrigued. Or pretending. Or sensing there's some hint to the truth here.
Ian clears his throat. "Typical things. A rehab stint here. A skipped vacation there. You know rich men. They like to throw their weight around."
"Yes," she says. "I do know the type."
"There have been some strange terms. Some rather demanding ones too. Most people don't play that game. They just move on. But some do." He looks to me. "I don't like it myself. Life is too short."
"It is," Ian says. "It really is."
"But I suppose some people want to win more than they want anything." Jeff holds up his glass. "And it seems it's going well too."
"Hmmm?" Jasmine does her best to hide her curiosity, but she doesn't quite get there.
"One of his latest attempts. I had news about it today. It's quite silly. I'd love to tell you more, but I'm afraid I'm sworn to secrecy," he says.
"Of course." She smiles, demurely, then she looks to me. Asks for an explanation. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I need to powder my nose."
"Of course," Jeff says.
I stand. Help Jasmine out of her chair.
Her fingers linger on my wrist as she picks up her purse. Then she moves away from the table. Around the corner. To the hallway with the restrooms and the coat check.
My heart races. My thoughts get loud. Too loud. That bastard is here again. He's everywhere.
He's always fucking things up.
"Excuse me." I don't wait for a response. I move toward the bathroom. Around the corner. To the dark, quiet space.
The weight of the wall is comforting. But it's not enough. It's not getting my thoughts straight.
I need a drink. Or a woman under me. Jasmine under me.
I try to find steadiness with my exhale.
Then the door to the women's room swings open. Jasmine steps into the hallway. Looks me dead in the eyes. "Are you all right?"
"No."
"Was he—"
I'm not answering that question. I can't think about that question. I can't think. Period. "Did you wear that dress for me?"
"I don't know what you mean." She plays coy. Moves away from the door. To the space on the wall, next to me.
I let my hand skim her wrist. "Yes, you do."
"Shep—"
"Tell me to stop."
Her eyes find mine.
"If you want me to stop, tell me to stop—"
"I thought you wouldn't touch me until I begged you."
"Am I touching you?"
She motions to my wrist.
I raise a brow really.
She nods really.
I pull my hand away. She's right. Rules are rules. Right now, I need rules. "You're daring me."
"I don't know what you—"
"Yes you do, princess."
The pet name makes her pupils dilate.
"You know what you're doing. But you don't know me anymore. You don't know how dangerous this game is."
"I can handle it." Her voice lifts to that proud, defiant tone. She thinks she can handle me. She thinks she can dare me and walk away.
She's wrong.
"You have no idea who I am now. You have no idea how rough I like it." I move closer. Close enough to smell her shampoo.
Her eyes fill with interest. "How rough?"
I don't answer her. Or touch her. Not yet. "Is that what you want, princess? Do you want to find out? Do you want me to order you onto your knees right here? To order you to open your pretty mouth so I can fuck it?"
Her chest heaves with her inhale. Her skin flushes pink. Then red.
"Or maybe you want me to pull your hands over your head. To pin you to the wall so you're helpless to resist as I split you in half."
"I…"
"What do you want, princess?" I'm done playing. I'm going to have her. On these terms. "It's a yes or no question. Do you want to come?"