Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 97574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
The soft light of dawn.
Then the bright blue of mid-morning.
Another hot day.
And the messy thoughts in my head—
Indigo standing at the altar next to Paloma.
Then next to her sister, in some gorgeous ivory gown, looking into my eyes like I'm all she's ever wanted.
Studying the ring on her left hand.
Whispering I love you.
Then my thoughts shift and it's Rory and I don't know what's up or down.
I run. Shower. Fix breakfast.
Find the handcuffs for tonight.
The image fills my head—her hands on the wall, her ass in the air, her legs trembling as she awaits punishment.
Instantly, my messy thoughts straighten.
What the fuck does it matter what happened with my ex-fiancée?
Whether or not I'm capable of love?
Why waste time on anything else?
I let the thought consume my morning. Then I arrange everything for tonight.
I wait until I can't stand it anymore.
Then I give her a chance to change her mind.
Ty: My flat. Six o'clock. Nothing but the harness under your clothes. Or I'll have to punish you.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Indigo
It's still there. On my cell.
Ty's offer.
I could call it a lot of things:
A dare.
A promise.
A warning.
But we both know the truth.
I want him to punish me.
He wants to punish me.
Because he takes a sadistic pleasure in it. Or because he wants me under his control. Or because he promised to give me what I need.
I don't know.
I don't care.
My entire body is buzzing. Since he first teased me, I've been buzzing.
Through wedding venues, pasta dinners, too many episodes of 90 Day Fiancée.
Except for the hour I was at the gynecologist and the few hours of cramps after, I've been buzzing with desire.
A being of pure desire.
Today's trek through wedding venues—one grand, one quaint—didn't help.
We have possible dates. In July. August. September.
That's our deadline.
Three months.
Three months until I'm a Mrs.
It's crazy. Crazier still, I'm getting used to the idea.
Looking forward to it.
I don't want to lie to my sister or Ty's family, but this isn't a lie.
We are committed.
And the thought of standing at the altar in some bold backless dress, kissing him like the ship is going down?
There's a part of me that wants it.
The real thing.
A real proposal, a real engagement, a real wedding.
Him really falling in love with me.
I can't have that.
But my sister walking me down the aisle, smiling with pride, standing up to embarrass me with a toast about Ty's sexual prowess—
I can have that.
The night of dancing in his arms.
The week in Fiji or Paris or Maui or Naples.
A room in his big, beautiful apartment.
Space in his big, beautiful life.
And all that time to deal with my pain and find my passion.
I've seen what happens to the idle rich working at Rick's.
Either I face this or I hide behind a drug problem or a bottle a day or a blade on my wrist.
Some means of self-destruction. One will find me.
I know better. I've been close before. Keeping Sienna safe was the only thing that kept me sane.
Now that she's an adult, with her own big, beautiful future—
I swallow hard. This is a problem for later. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year.
Or maybe it's exactly what I need right now.
Ty has a pretext for punishing me, but there's some reason I want it. Something beyond an intense desire to submit.
Is this why I'm craving pain and punishment?
I've been a bad girl, running from my pain, my gift, my passion.
I'm sorry.
I don't deserve mercy.
It's true.
It's ridiculous, but it is true.
I read his message again.
Ty: My flat. Six o'clock. Nothing but the harness under your clothes. Or I'll have to punish you.
My fingers slide over my cell screen. It's too slick. I'm too nervous.
I'm really doing this.
Intentionally disobeying him.
Asking him to punish me.
I'm out of my fucking mind.
I'm risking everything for sex.
I'm marrying him for sex.
Sure, there were other factors, but let's face it, I said yes because I want to fuck him.
And now I'm here, outside his fancy apartment building, ten minutes to six, waiting.
The Financial District is bustling. It's rush hour. Of course it is.
Men and women in suits run to catch their trains, chat on the street, grab dinner from a street vendor.
In an hour, this place will be a ghost town.
Even now, it's slowing. But it's still alert and alive and vibrant. Everything I love about the city.
Even the day traders and bankers who do nothing to earn their fortunes. The assholes who decided to raise the rate on our mortgage.
But then I'm not here to complain about the ills of capitalism.
I'm about to marry a billionaire. I'm about to join the one percent.
And I—
My cell buzzes. Slips from my hands. I bend just in time to catch it.
A text from Sienna. Teasing me about staying out late.
She knows not to wait up.
Does she know what I'm doing here?
What the fuck would she say if I told her?
Something supportive, probably. Supportive and horny.