Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
But the way she just ran out of here . . . I don’t know. I’ve known Aspen all her life, and she’s never once tried to get away from me like that, not even when I was entertaining other women. The mood shifted almost instantly, and what was supposed to be a post-sex fog turned into a chilling awkwardness.
I fucking hated it. Hell, even standing here still feels wrong.
She wasn’t expecting me to cuddle, was she? Because I thought I made the limitations of this deal clear. She knew what she was getting into, and despite her feelings, she was more than happy to agree. I thought we were on the same page.
Maybe I misjudged her, or maybe she flat-out lied. She said there wouldn’t be a problem. She was down with the conditions of our fucked-up little back-stabbing arrangement, but if she’s not, if she can’t handle this, then tonight is as far as it will go. The whole point of stabbing Austin in the back was to make things right with Aspen, and if this arrangement is only going to hurt her, then what’s the fucking point?
Still staring after her, I will myself to forget it. If she wanted to talk it out, she would have stayed. Hell, knowing Aspen, she would have had it out here and now, not sparing anyone’s feelings. She’s feisty like that, especially with Austin. She doesn’t like holding back, nor should she, but on the other hand, things are never that simple when it comes to the two of us. She spent two weeks ignoring me after she found out I was her faceless stranger, and now, I’ve just let her run out of here again.
Fuck. Am I about to have another two weeks of silence?
What if I hurt her? What if it was too much and her heart is breaking? What if I pushed her too far? I know we agreed that it was just sex, but when she was riding me, there’s no denying that it felt different. That wasn’t just sex, that was personal, and when I forced her gaze to mine . . . I’ve never come like that. I’m not going to lie, I struggled tonight. If she were any other woman, I wouldn’t have had a problem, but with Aspen, it’s a dangerous game, and we’re toeing a line that either one of us could crash right over at any given time. She’s already vulnerable when it comes to me, and if I’m not careful, I’ll be the one who struggles to maintain the line between sex and emotion.
Shit.
Either way, something happened in here, and I’m not down with being in the dark. If I fucked up, I need to know so I can fix it.
I’m out the door before I even know what’s happening. I race through my club, the VIP lounge still in full swing, but I barely notice, certain she’s not lingering around. At least, she better not be, especially with the likes of Ryatt Markin here tonight, fucking hunting for women.
God, I can’t stand that asshole. That fucker is getting way too bold with her.
Hitting the stairs, I fly up them two at a time before reaching the main floor and making my way to the entrance. Grabbing the handle, I yank it open before storming through to the reception area and scaring the shit out of Casey. She yelps, and I whip toward her, my gaze wide and frantic. “Did Aspen come through here?”
Her lips press into a hard line. “I really don’t understand what you see in that girl,” she muses, hurt flashing in her eyes that only serves to piss me off. “Did you honestly offer her a full membership? You know we have a waitlist, right? And don’t even get me started on the membership fee. I know she didn’t pay for it, which is totally unfair to our other members. Besides, she doesn’t even fit with our current clientele, so what’s your deal with her?”
“Since when did I give you the impression that you had a say or even a right to question my judgment on the way I run my business?” I ask, anger bubbling to the surface. “I asked you if Aspen came through here, and all I require from you is a simple yes or no answer.”
Casey visibly swallows, her gaze dropping like the desperate sub that she is. “Yes, sir,” she says, not daring to lift her gaze from her feet and making me regret for the millionth time ever touching her, but desperate men call for desperate measures. “You just missed her.”
Casey’s heavy into BDSM, and while I’ve dabbled here and there and enjoy being a dominant, she takes her role as a submissive way too fucking seriously. I prefer my women with a backbone. I like it when they argue back. Hell, I even like it when they want to challenge me and take control, and sooner or later, I know that Aspen will. She’s still finding her feet, though.