Oh, I could have kept my mouth shut like always, allowing everyone to bully and harass me, giving everyone permission to walk all over me, because that was what my aunt and uncle told me good girls do.
My so-called friends in high school, who were no longer my friends, thought I could never fit in because I was too shy and quiet and didn't know how to dress right. They felt the need to remind me of my shortcomings whenever they thought I deserved it. My aunt and uncle thought I was willful, wild, and stupid and I wouldn't amount to anything. They told me they'd done their best with me, teaching me and conforming me to be proper like them by slapping me and whipping me with a belt whenever they thought I needed the discipline.
Get your head out of the clouds and stop wasting your money and time reading those useless books, they'd always told me.
But those wonderful books had gotten me out of the real, harsh world. They had kept me sane and made me happy, at least for a few hours.
Then there was my boss, of course, who thought I was a worthless employee and condemned me to do all the dirty jobs, never missing an opportunity to criticize the small details. My colleagues kept bickering and backstabbing me when they were the ones who got the better pay by doing less. In the last few years, the harassment and bullying had gotten worse, especially at work, and I'd decided it was enough. I didn't want anyone to walk over me anymore. So I'd learned how to stand up for myself, to talk back, speak out, and demand attention.
Thus, to not speak what was on my mind now would certainly tell this Mr. J. Maxwell I was timid and juvenile, as he had so assumed my character to be and, hence, concluded I was incapable of finding him the two million dollars. Heck, I knew in my gut I couldn't find that two million in a short two days, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that his postulation of me was right.
"Is that all you rich arseholes ever think of? Throwing your damn money on whatever you deem attainable? Whatever you think has a price tag?"
I knew I was stepping shaky ground, but I couldn't help myself. I had no idea how one dealt with a billionaire like this Mr. J. Maxwell. I knew suddenly and with trepidation, however, that I was doing it wrong the moment I saw the dark look in his eyes and the stern expression on his handsome features.
I tensed, waiting for his aggressive reaction to come. Shit! I knew he'd either slap me or call his security guards and let them bash me good whilst he watched, with enjoyment of course. That was what these billionaires did, right? I saw it in movies. Because they could get away with anything.
When I saw him narrowing his eyes at me and a slight sneer appear about his lips, I knew I didn't have to wait long to see my imagination unfold before my eyes.
"Well, do you have a price tag, Ms. Donovan?" he said chillingly softly. "Everybody does."
His words stung, but I didn't have time to think of a reply before, at lighting speed, his face was right in front me and his hand was wrapped around the back of my head. I gasped at his firm hold on me, knowing suddenly I was imprisoned in his arms and I wouldn't be able to run away. Then I felt the heat of his lips crushed against mine.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 7
Mia
I panicked, and in the back of my mind, I knew even if he were to do what I feared most and take me without my permission, and I screamed, no one would help me. Even so, I tried my best to push him back, but the feel of his warmth and his lips against mine was wonderfully and deliciously intoxicating.
He traced his hot tongue across my lips, causing an exquisite pleasure to soar through my whole body. Then he somehow managed to expertly slip skilled tongue into my mouth and invade me. I shuddered deliciously. A groan escaped my throat as he stroked and caressed his tongue against mine, playing a small battle with me. I became breathless and my body squirmed in a frenzy of heated pleasure. At the same time, however, I was actually fighting him to release me, my puny fist shoving at his massive chest, which was, of course, to no avail.
Oh God! Oh God! I was being ravished by a hot billionaire, and I was turned on. My body, weak and frantic and quivering, responded to his intense kiss, even though my head screamed for me to get ahold of myself as he continued to enrapture me.
When he finally moved back, I was heaving and breathless, my whole body shaking. My heart was pumping so fast and so loud within my chest that I was sure he, too, could hear the noise. My head felt light and just that little bit dizzy.
He still had his hand wrapped behind my head as I stared up at him, panting, my breasts rising and falling, my lips red and sore from his wonderfully brutal treatment. He didn't at all look as though he were affected by the kiss. His breathing was even, though his eyes were darker, with a blue fire like I'd seen when I was naked and met his gaze in his bedroom only some minutes past.
He was stroking my lower lip now. I wanted him to stop because it was dully aching, yet I wanted him to continue.
"Are you a virgin?"
The question took me by surprise, and I shoved his hand away from me.
"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked. "What the heck if I am? Is it a crime to be a virgin at twenty-two?" I stood, shoving the chair back in the process.
If there were any certainty at all, I'd be a virgin for the rest of my life, because I knew I wasn't going to settle down with just any man. Then again, I'd also been certain I was never going to let any man kiss me either, unless he was the right one--that gentle, caring man who loved me to my bones, like the way Dad had loved Mom, like the way Dad had cherished Mom. This man--this Mr. J. Maxwell--was nothing like that. He was arrogant and brutal, and what happened a moment ago had changed the fact that I'd never been kissed.
My head held high, I said haughtily, "Trust me. I'll get that two million by Friday. Somehow, someway."
Turning on my heel, I headed to the door.
"Two million. Five years."
My legs halted, and I turned to look at the handsome man, who'd just given me the most amazing kiss. "Excuse me?"
He moved just a little, easing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Two million. Five years. It's a contract."
I stared at him, long and hard, my heart pumping loud and fast within my chest. "What contract?"
"The one I'm offering you." He cocked his head to one side as he gazed at me. "Interested?"
I hesitated. Two million. Five years. For me? For Andy's freedom?
I narrowed my eyes and said slowly, "What type of work are you offering me?"
A slight smile cracked to one side of his mouth, and I knew. "You're a fucking bastard!"
Tears started brewing in my eyes and hurt within my heart. I reached for the door handle. Sick! Just plain sick!
I cracked the door open and was about to run off, when suddenly, I felt myself being pulled by the arm and spun round. Dizzy and breathless at the sudden reorientation, I gazed at the broad chest before me as the door clicked shut and my back was thrust against it.
My gaze drifted up to the stern face above me, and before I could gasp out at the raw fire I saw within those Prussian blue eyes, firm lips crushed against mine as I felt warm fingers dig deep into my hair.
I whimpered as he kissed me long and hard, thrusting his tongue against mine, stroking and caressing and licking and playing, making me breathless and squirm with a sense of hunger for more. I was gone. My head swam in this deep pool of sensation and my being floated in midair, surrounded with his warm aura.
His hand moved down to my breast and cupped it, feeling the soft flesh against the thin material of my T-shirt. I gasped and groaned in response, and my breasts became hard and engorged, sensitive at the slightest touch.
When he thrust his muscular thigh between the softness of my legs, my core burned and twisted, crying out its need to be filled with him. It was the moment that brought me back to reality.
This shouldn't go any further. Thus, I blinked and shook my head as I tried to shove him off me. He retaliated by increasing the firmness of his grip. When I tried even
harder, he had one hand at the small of my back and hoisted me up until I was riding his thigh. I freaked out because the action and position increased the twisting and burning need in my core, the craving for his manhood and for him to simply ravish me, take me, and do so in every which way that pleased him.
Oh God! I could feel the hardness of his shaft against me, and my body responded by turning weak, trembling with the need to be filled, shocking me to my center.
My mind, however, refused to submit to his sexual seduction. It was then he let go of my lips. Instead, his hot mouth moved to tease the sensitive spot near my ear. My whole body shuddered as he whispered, "You're definitely worth two million. I'd fuck you every night."
I caught my breath at his words and felt weak and aroused. I was reduced to a wanton wench.
Slowly, he eased his thigh between my legs and lowered me to the ground. With his face touching mine and lips caressing my cheek, he said slowly and softly, "Make up your mind. Two million. Five years. Your brother will go free. You have until Friday morning."
He moved his body back, though his hand still trapped me between him and the door. Panting, I watched him as he stared at me, his eyes intense.
"What are you still doing here?" he suddenly snapped.
I heard the frustration and anger in his voice, but how could I move if he was still trapping me there? He was a brick wall, and I was a puny thing. Furthermore, my legs couldn't move. They were paralyzed in numbness.
My body stiff, he pulled me by the arm, closer to him. I could feel the whole length of him, his muscular, toned body and his hard rod pushing against his pants, against my belly. I squirmed with a flare of sexual heat at the feel of his bulge, evidence of his hunger and desire for me.