“I want you,” I said softly.
Jackson climbed off the bed and grabbed his jacket. He winked at me. “That’s not good enough,” he said. He smirked, raising his eyebrows. My cheeks flushed bright red.
“What do you mean?” Protectively, I wrapped the robe tightly around my body. “What’s wrong?”
Jackson grinned. “I want to make you wait,” he said in a low voice that sent desire pulsing through my body once more. “I want to make you wait, Belle. And then, once you can’t wait any longer, I want to make you mine.”
I frowned. “So…you’re leaving? Now?” I shook my head. “Wasn’t that good enough for you?”
Jackson smirked as he slipped his jacket on over his shirt. “Like I said,” he said casually, taking his flute of champagne and draining the whole thing at once. “You’ll have to wait just a little bit longer.”
I stared at him, my heart slamming inside my chest. I was filled with so many strange emotions – lust, confusion, anger. Part of me wanted to slap Jackson across the smug face again – the other part of me wanted to grab him and pull him back down in bed once more.
“I want you to beg for my cock,” Jackson said slowly. He smirked at me. “And until you do that, I’m not going to fuck you.”
I watched him gather his things and leave. I was still seething with anger – and my pussy was throbbing so hard, I knew that I’d have a hard time not touching myself as soon as Jackson was gone. When he left, I wanted to grab something and throw it at the door in his wake. But all I could do was stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I didn’t look like me. My lips were swollen with kisses; my brown hair was wild. There was a dark look in my brown eyes that I’d never recognized before now – the look of a girl driven wild by lust.
I stood in the foyer, fidgeting nervously in my Vera Wang cocktail dress. It was five minutes past seven and Jackson was late. He was supposed to pick me up at quarter till, but that had come and passed and still, he wasn’t there.
When he finally arrived, I could tell he wasn’t in a good mood. Jackson put a hand on the small of my back and guided me into the Town Car. The sensation of his fingers against the silk of my dress were enough to turn me on, but I could tell Jackson wasn’t thinking about sex.
“Where are we going, anyway?”
Jackson shrugged. “Some work event.” He snickered. “I needed a date.”
I frowned. “And you wanted to take me?”
Jackson turned to me, his grey eyes wide. “Why, Bella. You’re my temporary assistant! Of course, I’d want to take you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “So you’re going to lie,” I said flatly. My bad mood was turning even worse with each passing second.
Jackson shrugged. “It won’t hurt anyone. Besides, I thought you’d be glad to get out.”
I was, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. The past week I’d spent cooped up in that apartment, getting an early start for next semester’s reading. Despite my luxurious surroundings, Jackson hadn’t provided any actual cash…and as a result, I couldn’t really afford to leave. Still, it hadn’t exactly been torture. I’d been subsisting on all of the delicious snacks in the fridge. The expensive caviar had been top-notch, as had the smoked salmon and artichoke hearts in some kind of delicious olive oil. I hadn’t eaten food like that since the last time I’d dined with Mom and Mitchell. Thinking about it brought back all kinds of bittersweet memories.
“Belle, we’re here,” Jackson said impatiently. I stared out the window – the Town Car had pulled up in front of the Waldorf Astoria.
I raised my eyebrows. “So just some work event?”
Jackson shrugge
d once more. “I told you, I don’t pay attention to these things.”
Inside, I practically sprained my neck from looking around so much. The inside of the hotel was decorated splendidly – ropes and garlands of shiny tinsel hung from the ceilings, and everything was a bright, shiny silver. The people were all gorgeous, too – those slender New York City types, all dressed in black with bright red lips and smoky eyes.
I tugged at the hem of my Vera Wang, feeling more self-conscious than ever.
“I don’t know about this,” I said slowly. “Are you sure?”
Jackson nodded impatiently. “Of course I’m sure,” he growled. “Why the hell would I bring you if I weren’t?”
I could tell something was bothering him the whole night. He wasn’t the way he’d been the other day – if anything, he was back to his old, snide self. Every remark that came out of his mouth was a sarcastic jab. Finally, I decided to abandon Jackson and stay by the cocktail table. At least this way I can drink, I thought miserably.
The night dragged on and on. Jackson flitted throughout the room, laughing too loudly. I cringed whenever I heard his booming voice sailing through the air. It was like he was trying too hard to impress someone, but I had no idea who Jackson would even bother trying to impress.
“Hey there,” an unfamiliar voice said. “You new here?”