Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Who is going to pay you?”
He simply smiles. “Mr. Waterstone will take care of this.”
Things are starting to click. “You work for Marcus Waterstone?”
“I do, yes.”
“So you just happened to be sitting at the side of the road with taxi signage?”
“I don’t believe I have any signage.”
“I could have sworn…” I look at the car, and now I see that there’s no signage after all. I got into this vehicle without even knowing who was driving.
“I’m so embarrassed! I’m so sorry!” I reach for the door handle, fumble it, and then try again for a second time. This time I manage to get out of the vehicle like an actual human.
I hobble my way across the street with one shoe and one bare foot. I could take the other shoe off, but I just want to get out of the driver’s sight. This is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. Not only have I totally failed to gain any real insight into Marcus Waterstone, I’ve been humiliated, and then gone and humiliated myself on top of it.
I let myself into the building and rush past whoever is at the mailboxes. There are tears filling my eyes as I ascend the stairs, though I have to pause to wrench my surviving shoe from my foot.
The stairs stink and are sticky in ways and places they shouldn’t be. I can’t afford to think about that too much. I can’t afford to think about anything here. City living is expensive, and this is one of the very few places I was actually able to afford on my own.
My apartment is on the third floor. It’s super small, and it’s cramped, but so is everything else in this city. I shut the door behind myself and lock it. That’s second nature.
Then I get into the shower, which is three steps from the front door, and has a toilet in the same cubicle. Modern, the leasing agent described it, like they do in Tokyo.
I have to wash the failure off myself. I have to wash the fucking come off myself. As I peel off my underwear, I feel it sticking to my skin just a little. Marcus has left himself all over me. I’m lucky he didn’t do it inside me. He strikes me as the sort of guy who would fuck you and expect you to just take the morning after pill.
Hot water hits my skin, invigorating at first and then painful as I turn around and let it strike my ass. I can feel the places he spanked me reigniting with the incessant drumming of the water. I spin quickly all the way around, but I can’t avoid the pain forever. I need to wash myself properly, with soap. I need to make sure that my skin is clear of his billionaire emissions.
“Asshole,” I curse to myself as I am once more exposed to the pain of washing a spanked and fucked ass.
He’s managed to ruin a shower, and that’s practically impossible to do.
I wash quickly and get out of the shower.
It would be easier to go to bed, rather than keep living with the memory of what just happened in my head, but I can’t afford to forget it. Not yet. All I can think about is Marcus Waterstone. I know I’ll never see him again, but I’ll never dismiss what he did to me either.
When I check in the mirror, I’m surprised at the lack of damage. I would have thought there would be bruises and welts everywhere. Instead, my butt is just slightly red, although he’s left a mark on me that I’ll never be able to erase. I’m going to remember the day a billionaire fucked me for the rest of my life.
I wrap my hair in a towel, fold another fluffy towel around my midsection, and go and sit in front of my laptop. My fingers start typing by force of habit, transferring the thoughts I don’t dare think in my head to the screen in front of me.
Marcus Waterstone is the most insufferable, arrogant, and outright dangerous man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Alright. Well, that’s quite an opening.
My finger hovers over the delete key but doesn’t make it all the way to pressing it.
Marcus believes he has dominion over everything and everyone he lays eyes on. He is the embodiment of the spirit of a conqueror, a holdover from a more toxic time. Marcus may only be thirty-nine years old to my twenty-six, but he is a dinosaur in every sense that matters.
That paragraph’s not as good. It sounds sort of bitter. I want to be a little acerbic, but I don’t want to come off like a jilted lover. Damnit, if anybody finds out that I slept with him, all of my work will be instantly undermined. I bet he knows that. I bet he thought about that before I fucked him.