Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I’m so used to thinking of myself as a work in progress.
If only I could lose some weight. If only I could take the time to be well-rested and eat well. If only I had my degree. If only…
I square my shoulders. Today, I have a job to do, and when I put my mind to something, I do it well. The car cruises to a stop outside a high-rise with gleaming mirrored windows that go so far up, I have to crane my neck to see.
“We’ve arrived, Miss Myers.”
Twelve
Liam
I glance at my watch and tap a button to Manuel.
“Was she on time?” I ask.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Alexander,” he says.
“Good.” Punctuality matters to me, and I’ve got a lot to cover before Manuel brings her to class.
I answer four emails before I hear a knock on the door. “Come in,” I say, distracted.
“Ms. Myers is here to see you, sir,” Mandy says, opening the door and ushering Cora in.
“Have a seat, Ms. Myers,” I say, not even looking her way. Mandy shuts the door, as she knows I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m working. Scowling at the screen, I discard three emails of no consequence and check my agenda. Then I turn to Cora.
“Good morning, Mr. Alexander,” she says politely, but there’s a hardness to her jaw and glint in her eyes that I already know to be a warning.
“Good morning, Ms. Myers,” I say. Formalities it is.
There are so many things I want to do to her. So many things I want to say. We need this contract signed as soon as possible.
Jake had the contract ready on my desk before I arrived at work, with a post-it note scribbled on the top.
“You are aware this is the girl who’s trying to undermine your project?”
I tear the note up and trash it. I couldn’t give two shits about her little social justice project. I’ll continue with my plans, and what happens on school grounds stays on school grounds.
“Please step into the restroom for a minute?” I tell her. “The instructions are in there as to the tests you’ll take.”
“Oh, lovely,” she mutters. “Just so you know, I’ve had sex twice in my life and both times the guys were virgins, so the chances of me having a damn STD are slim and none.”
I smirk at my computer screen and nod. “Noted.” I’ve paid for expedited testing, so we’ll have the results before lunchtime. A few minutes later, she comes back into my office.
“Please review the terms of your contract,” I tell her coolly. Ignoring the way her hair smells, still damp from the shower, I immediately go back to the night before, then push the memory out of my mind. We have a job to do before we play again.
Clicking the pen I hand her, she captures her full lower lip between her teeth and studies the contract.
“Question,” she says. “Please clarify the terms of when and where I’m obligated to abide by these rules.” A lock of red hair falls across her brow when she quirks a brow at me. Hastily she swipes it away, and I want to be the one tucking it behind her ear.
Jesus, I’ve got to get a grip.
“I’ve given that some thought,” I tell her sternly. I want her listening. “My preference would be all the time.”
She blinks at me. “So… a total power exchange? I thought this was more of a part-time thing…”
“You’ve done your research,” I say with a smile. “Not a total power exchange. I won’t be able to control what you do when you’re at school or at home,” I say, “though I will have my methods.”
The familiar faint pink colors her cheeks. “Okay. And I am allowed to safeword when I want to. Yes?”
“Yes, of course,” I say. I clench my jaw. We’ve already discussed this. I insist on safewords but dislike the thought of her using one.
Nodding, she places her pen at the line at the bottom of the page. “I think this will be a challenge,” she says, smiling. “And honestly, Liam… um, sir?”
I nod.
She grins. “I kinda like a challenge.”
She hasn’t signed yet, though. She’s giving it another read.
“As do I,” I say, but I’m not amused. We’ll see how much of a challenge she really likes. “Tonight, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to Verge. We have a few matters of business to discuss.”
“We do,” she says. “Yes.”
“First, your phone.” I take the slim white box out of the desk drawer where I put it this morning, and hand it to her. “Learn it. My number’s programmed on it, and I’ve had my man sync it to your old one.”
“How’d you do that?” she asks, adorably bemused, her lips pressed together.
“It wasn’t hard, Cora. We contacted your cell phone company and paid them for their time. So, you should find your old apps restored, with two additions. My contact information and I’ve installed a tracking app that will tell me where you are at all times.”