Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I was angry with him for putting me in this position, and I was enthralled by his dirty words, his hard body, and the forceful way he claimed my body. So I relented. I let my hand slip lower, dipping just barely between my swollen folds. I found the little nub instantly and a tiny touch with the pad of my finger was enough to make me scream, “Fuck!”
He groaned and started moving even faster, his hips colliding with mine as he pumped his hard length inside of me. “That’s it, baby. Come. Spill all over my dick. I want it and I want it now.”
They shouldn’t have affected me like they did, his words and demands. But they did. They sent me spiraling into an orgasm that was like an explosion. It swallowed me, leaving me shuddering with pleasure so intense that for a moment I wasn’t even there. I was gone somewhere else, my vision gone, my body nothing but a burning ball of light.
And when I came back, I couldn’t even make myself care that Ethan Chambers was cooing little nothings in my ear as he spasmed into me three more times before pulling out and spilling himself across my stomach.
Suddenly, there was silence. The only sound filling the room was my hammering heartbeat and Ethan’s spent panting.
Then he slid off me and turned around. I took a moment to appreciate the hard muscles of his back, the firmness of his rear, and those long, well-defined legs. Then the bastard spoke.
“Now go. Our transaction is done for today. I’ve got your number and I’ll give you a call when the next one is due.”
And like that, disgust ran back over me like a river. How in the hell had I honestly forgotten that this was Ethan Chambers and I’d just traded my own body for his “protection”?
I’m a terrible person, I thought as I sat up and slid to the edge of the desk. I was still covered in Ethan’s…stuff and that didn’t exactly make me feel better about anything. I looked around for something to clean myself off with, but there was nothing. Not even a paper towel. And Ethan didn’t seem particularly eager to help me out with that.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I spotted my panties from when he’d thrown them. They’d gotten hung up on the corner of the desk in his hurry. They’ll do, I thought glumly and snatched them up. I used the sparse fabric to wipe up his mess, then threw them promptly in the trash. Ethan watched me, his expression amused.
I grabbed my pants then and shimmied them on. I was grateful that my bra was fine and happily slipped that on. Being covered made me feel a little better, but not much. My blouse came on next and I just grabbed my shoes; I’d put them on in the hall. When I reached the door, Ethan called to me, “Louis will escort you out.”
I cringed, shooting a nasty sideways glance to the large man that had been fine watching as I was forced to have sex with his boss.
Fucking asshole.
“Don’t bother. I remember the way,” I told the pair of them. Then I stepped outside and slammed the door behind me as hard as I could. I made it two steps before sliding down against the wall, tears sliding down my face. “What did you do?” I whispered to myself. I took some deep breaths.
Then I wiped away my tears, pulled on my boots, and stormed out of there like I had a shred of dignity left.
Chapter 8
I spent the rest of the day not at home. It was easy to tell Jessie I needed to work some things out at The Cut and that I needed her to watch Cody. Since she had the day off anyway, she said it was no problem. She was the best and I felt a little bad about lying to her about what I was doing.
“You sure you want another?” asked the pretty bartender who looked like she was either five years younger or older than her makeup suggested.
I nodded, my head lolling heavily. “It’s been a rough day,” was all I told her. And when I said “day” I meant morning. It wasn’t even noon when had I walked into the bar, the only one in town that was open.
She smiled at me sympathetically. “I hear you. Sometimes a stiff whiskey’s the only thing that’ll cure what ails you.”
I raised the shot she’d just poured to that, then downed it in one gulp. It still burned a little as it went down, but it was getting a little easier with each one. “I shouldn’t be here,” I told her bluntly. “I should not be wasting money on this crap.” Then I felt bad about calling this stuff crap and apologized. “Sorry. This is your job.”