Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“If you leave a wet smear on my desk, don’t worry about cleaning it up. My new cleaning lady will take care of it.” He rolls his chair back, allowing me the room to get off the desk.
I’m furious and humiliated as I carefully ease myself down so I don’t leave anything for anyone else to clean up. His eyes track my movements as I shimmy my skirt back into place, ending his pervy peep show.
“I’m ready to get paid now,” I bark out, hating how my voice shakes. “Asshole.”
He smirks, his blue eyes flaring with heat. “One day soon I’ll come up with something fitting for that mouth.” When I gape at him, he shakes his head. “Not my dick, Miss Elliott. I told you if you want that, I’m not paying you. I’m talking about punishment. More humiliation. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”
I ignore him, crossing my arms over my chest. My foot taps impatiently as I wait for him to get me my money. Slowly, he rises to his feet, all six feet and something towering over me. I’m frazzled, and he looks flawless. Absolutely unruffled. I hate him for this.
He straightens his tie, pats me on the head in a condescending move, and then strides over to his painting. My eyes, against my will, sweep over his ass that looks too good in a pair of navy slacks. He reaches up and pulls on the corner of the frame, sweeping the painting out to reveal a safe hidden behind it. I watch as he enters in another long-ass code like the one on his office door and then opens it. Inside, documents, weapons, and stacks of money can be seen. The sight of the guns causes a trickle of unease to slide through me. It makes me realize I’m out of my depth with this way older, way powerful man. He could probably shoot me and make it look like an accident. No one would care, because he’s rich.
As he busies himself counting his money, I curl my arms around myself. Shame burns through me as I acknowledge what I’ve just done. I played into someone else’s dirty fantasy for money. I’m no better than a prostitute. Mom would roll over in her grave if she knew. Dad would have a coronary.
Tears burn at my eyes, and I hopelessly try to blink them away. All it manages to do is send them skating down my hot cheeks. I bite hard on my bottom lip to keep the sob in my throat. Footsteps near me, but I can’t meet his eyes. Not anymore. Not right now.
“Look at me.” His deep, husky, commanding voice doesn’t broker room for an argument. I find myself obeying though I hate to. “Good girl.”
His praise washes over me, chasing away some of my shame, which really makes me feel fucked up.
“You earned this,” he murmurs. “You’ve seen my safe. There’s plenty more where that came from.” He grips my wrist, pulling it away from my body, and twists my palm face up. “Eight hundred for your time and two for a tip.”
I jerk my confused stare to meet his probing blue eyes. “What? You’re giving me a thousand dollars for whatever that was?” My voice is shrill. “Why?”
He presses the money into my palm, lingering his warm touch there. The connection causes my body to tremble. I’m almost disappointed when he pulls away. Almost. I shove the money into my pocket without counting.
“You deserved it. Earned every penny.” He leans closer. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I clench my jaw and give him a clipped nod.
“I would have paid a lot more for that, Miss Elliott.”
“What?” I shriek. “Why didn’t you tell me I could ask for more?”
“You have to learn to negotiate.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “In business, it’s imperative.”
“How much?” Anger chases away my shame. “How high could I have gone?”
“In a high-end kink club here in the city, I’d have to pay at least five times what I paid you.”
I gasp, furious at the gall of this man. “I could have earned five thousand dollars?”
“I said I’d pay five times that at a club,” he growls. “Not for you.”
Oh.
Ouch.
I deflate, dragging my eyes to our shoes that are too close for comfort. His strong grip finds my jaw, pushing my head back up to look at him.
“For a young, bratty girl who wears red panties and smells like cherry candy, I’d pay a whole lot more than for those professionals at the club.” His thumb strokes over my jawbone. “You could’ve pulled ten grand out of me. Twenty if you let me keep the panties.”
Dirty fucking bastard!
I shove at his stupidly hard chest, forcing him to drop his hold on my jaw. “Good riddance, asshole.”