Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I locked my device and set it on the desk.
She stood, avoiding eye contact as if it would make her relive last night.
My patience grew thin. “Yes?”
“You could try hi.” Now she looked at me, her low-burning embers slowly turning into a fire.
I propped my elbow on the armrest, my closed knuckles underneath my chin.
She helped herself to one of the armchairs facing my desk, sitting at the very edge like she intended to stay only briefly.
Good.
A bit of her stomach was visible, along with the piercing I had noticed last night.
Her hands came together on her knees, but her shoulders were back and her spine was straight. She seemed to be nervous as her baseline, but whenever I provoked her, she could quickly turn into an inferno. “After what happened last night, I think we should set some boundaries.”
My eyebrow immediately cocked because she had no right to set boundaries. “What part of I own you don’t you understand?”
There it was—the fire. Flames were visible right on the surface of her eyes. “Let’s get something straight. You don’t own me. I could walk out of here anytime I want—”
“As long as you’re under my roof, I do. So let’s get that straight. You don’t set boundaries. I do. You knock on doors—I don’t. I tell you what to do—and you listen. So don’t walk into my office and talk about boundaries as if you have any say in what kind of boundaries we have.”
She looked pissed. If she had that shotgun, she might actually shoot me. “You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re a whore.”
Her expression immediately changed. There was a flinch in her eyes, like a bullet had struck her in the chest and made her jerk back. It was clear that I’d said something deeply offensive just by the look on her face. “Don’t call me that ever again.” Her voice was different, still strong, but with a hint of quiet vulnerability.
For whatever reason, she silenced me.
Nothing was said for a long time. Just a lot of staring.
She clearly expected me to insult her again, judging by the guard in her eyes.
I didn’t.
“Look, I’ve been careful not to catch anything. Never have up to this point.” She leaned forward and rapped her knuckles on the wood of my desk. “I don’t want to trip at the finish line. So, we need to talk about how we’re going to keep me safe. You’re sleeping with all these other women—”
“If you’re as good as you say you are, then you’re the only woman I’ll be fucking.”
As if that was the last thing she’d expected me to say, she turned quiet.
“Are we done here?”
“Is that normal for you?”
“What?”
“Monogamy.”
I had several women on my yacht at once for a reason. “No.”
“Then why—”
“Because I’m paying a premium price, and I expect premium services. Fuck me how I want, when I want, how hard I want—and you’ll get what you want.”
It was a long day.
I worked out first thing in the morning, because if I didn’t get it done then, I would be too busy to do it later. Then I worked in my study through the afternoon and evening, let my dinner get cold on the coffee table, to Hugo’s horror, and then finally retired for the night after a big glass of scotch.
On the third floor, I walked past the double doors that led to my bedroom, the only room in the house that was off-limits to the staff other than Hugo. When the maids cleaned and changed my sheets, Hugo was there to supervise.
I headed to the corner bedroom, the light noticeable in the crack under the door. Like last time, I went inside without knocking, finding her on the couch as before. But now, she was fully dressed, hair and makeup still done, as if she’d expected me.
She didn’t look at me.
I took a seat on the edge of the bed and stared at the back of her head.
She didn’t move, the glow from the TV highlighting her silhouette.
I gave her a moment, but that moment was wasted because she never came. “Get your ass over here.”
She ignored me.
“I don’t wait.”
“Well, I don’t obey.” She turned to me, her eyes iridescent.
I raised my hand and gestured to the door.
She gave a quiet sigh of irritation then walked over. Her eyes dropped, like she hated herself for succumbing to my authority.
It only made me want her more. “I assume you were more submissive with your other clients.” I got to my feet, towering over her small frame, ready to do things that would make her cry in both pleasure and pain.
“I was a different person then.” She turned away, looking out the window.
“Eyes.”
She hesitated, like she wanted to defy that command with every fiber of her being. But she obeyed…eventually. Those bright eyes locked on mine, filled with loathing for both me and herself.