Ruthless Rival - Page 13

But that's a long story.

A long, messy story.

Vanessa doesn't know the ugly details. Only the public ones. He was in an accident that killed Bash and nearly killed him.

And Adam was closer to Bash than anyone.

"Oh. Fuck." Her expression drops. "I didn't mean—"

"I know."

"Adam is a good guy. I'm sorry about the accident. Is he doing okay?"

"He is." Better, now that he's with someone. That's a fucked-up mess, but I'm happy he's happy.

I drop Vanessa's hand. Try to take the lead as we round the corner.

She keeps pace with me. Walks faster.

She's in athletic sneakers. I'm in dress shoes.

And she's a former track star. If we race, she's going to win.

I need to play to my strengths. "Pierce has a service on retainer. For employees who work late."

"Generous."

"What do you suggest?"

"Reasonable hours."

"How late do you work most nights?"

"It depends on the night." She looks to the subway stop. "But point taken."

"A car is more comfortable." And private. A place to touch her, tease her, kiss her.

A bad idea.

But a tempting one.

I pull out my cell.

She nods. "Go ahead."

Because she wants to get away from me as quickly as possible?

Or because she wants to get to her apartment, where we can fuck, as quickly as possible?

I push the thought aside. Call the service.

Five minutes.

I slip my cell into my pocket. Relay the information.

"You sound different on the phone," she says.

"How is that?"

"More demanding." Her eyes flit to my tie. My waist. My pockets. "Is that… most men, executives, they're tired of taking control all day. They want to release after work."

"Have you done a survey?"

"I hear things. From escorts," she says. "A friend runs a charity."

"Free escorts for CEOs?"

"Is that a joke?"

"I hope so."

She smiles, and her eyes light up.

My heart thuds against my chest.

"Yes, the poor CEOs can't afford rising escort prices."

"Tragic."

Her smile widens. "Thousands a night. It's too much."

"They'll have to pass the cost of living increase onto their customers."

She shakes her head you're ridiculous, and I like it. "No, she helps women get out of the industry. Teaches them new skills. Offers support. We use some of the same services."

Of course.

"You'd think it's easier for women who are charging five hundred dollars an hour to leave. They can save, they have nice things, they know people in power. But many are addicted to the money. Or the thrill. Or drugs. Even when they start having issues. Threats. Clients who are too interested. Clients who don't want people to know about their taste for bondage or humiliation."

"What do you do?"

"It's not my organization. But my friend… she moves them to a new city, changes their hair. Usually, that's enough. The men don't know their real names. They don't want to look into things enough to risk their wives discovering their infidelity." Her eyes meet mine. "I've heard a lot, through her. She's not supposed to gossip, but when she drinks…"

"Anyone I know?"

"Yes. But that's all I can say."

"Is this what you meant by teasing?"

Her chest heaves. "That seems fair."

"It does."

"You're good at it."

"Teasing?"

"Yes."

Let's do it again. Now. Tonight. What are you wearing under those shorts? How many times can you come in one night?

"But I shouldn't say anything. It will go to your head."

"It will."

"Inflate your already massive ego."

"I always take feedback."

"Bad feedback?"

"Do you have some?"

"No."

Tell me everything. What else do you like? What can I do, right now, to drive you out of your fucking mind?

"The stories about executives…" She takes a deep breath. "Do you think it's true?"

"It makes sense."

"For you?"

"Am I submissive?"

"Yes."

"No," I say.

"Have you ever tried?"

"No. It's never interested me."

"Would you?"

"Are you asking to tie me up?"

"Would you say yes? If I was?"

"Yes."

She bites her lip. "Really?"

Not for anyone else. But for Vanessa? I want to give her everything she craves. I want to conquer every challenge she issues. "Are you asking?"

She sucks in a shallow breath. "No. Well, maybe. If I can cover your mouth. Keep you from issuing orders."

"You're a CEO."

"I am."

"Is it true for female CEOs too?"

"Probably." Her eyes flit to her shoes. "But I'm not interested."

"You prefer to issue orders?"

"No. Well, probably. But I'd rather no one issue orders."

"Only firm requests?"

"Especially if they end with please." Her chest heaves. She's surprised by how dirty her words sound.

"When you make requests?"

"Why should I say please if you don't?"

"I don't need a please."

She swallows hard. "You can follow orders?"

"Depends on the orders." My voice drops. "Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me."

"Oh. Right. You did. Last time."

Last time.

There might be a next time.

"I can follow closely," I say. "If you want."

"Have you done that?"

"No. But I'd try." For her.

"Would you really?"

With anyone else? No. With her? "Yes."

A sound interrupts me. The driver, calling for us.

I open the door for her.

She looks up at me, equal parts nervous and intrigued. "You're bluffing."

"Call me on it."

Chapter Eight

Tags: Crystal Kaswell Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024