It’s as if he doesn’t even hear me. “Don’t think you’re bowing out now. This arrangement—it’s not temporary. Not anymore.”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re mine, little bird—all of you.
Time stands still. I swear I’m dreaming. “Your nights belong to me now. I’ll send a car for you twice a week and get you back to school in time for your morning classes. You’re also home on the weekends. In my bed. In my playroom. Do you understand?”
My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. My voice is almost unrecognizable as I respond. “Yes. Yes, completely.”
His seductive smile was the starring role in my dreams at night. “Now, get out of my car before I make you stay and suck my cock the whole drive home.”
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t. ’Til then, pet.”
I climb out of his car and practically fly inside and to my room.GabrielMacallan Fine. It’s the rarest and most sought-after scotch one can obtain. Only forty bottles have even been produced, and I’m sitting here sipping on it. I should feel elated. Empowered by the sixty-year-old, aged to perfection, single malt. Instead, irritation scratches at the surface of my mind. The girl dancing in front of me should spark my attention. I should want to take her to my private room and relieve all this built-up tension. Instead, I’m fucking annoyed.
“Shoo.” I fling my wrist, dismissing her, and slam my drink. This is not the first time I’ve denied a woman. Hell, it’s not the second or third or even tenth. Ever since she lured me into her little trap, I haven’t been able to find pleasure in anything or anyone. Only her. I saw it coming. Knew the danger of getting involved with her. And now, I’m trapped in her web of desire. I want nothing more than to control her. But she’s the one controlling me.
I flag down a girl to refill my drink. I should drown my indecision in liquor. But the last thing I need is to not be in complete control when she arrives. I look at the time. The car should be arriving within the hour. More irritation takes up my headspace. I should have sent for her sooner. Told Heath I couldn’t meet for a drink.
I don’t know how much longer I can sit next to my best friend and do what I’m doing. How the fuck do I explain that I’m in the same exact position he’s in? Wrapped up in a girl who does not belong to me. Never will. I should text my driver and tell him to turn around. Take her home.
Who am I kidding?
I’ve been anticipating her arrival since the moment she got out of my car two days ago—another reason I’m a bastard. I’ll sit here with Heath, as if I’m his loyal friend, knowing soon I will make up an excuse to leave in hopes of defiling his daughter.
Finally, my mood lightens, thinking of how sweet she’ll be in my mouth. Compliant when I tell her exactly what I plan on doing to her. My sweet little bird, who has broken down the steel wall I’ve built around myself and my cold heart.
I wish Heath would hurry the fuck up so I can get out of here.
“Sorry I’m late.” He throws himself in the lounge chair next to me, loosening his tie.
“Thought you changed your mind.”
“No. Long fucking day. Just spent the last three hours watching a pissing contest between two clients to see who was worth more. If I wasn’t interested in the two-mil commission, I’d drop them both.”
“Ah, yes. Rich motherfucker problems,” I laugh. Luxury does have its downfalls.
“Last I checked, you’re also fucking rich. And a motherfucker…” He tugs at his tie.
A girl shows up, handing me a new drink. She lingers, waiting for me to demand she dance, but I wave her off. “That is true. So, tell me, where did you end up with your little toy?”
Heath, for the first time in our whole friendship, shows his fangs. “She’s not a fucking toy, asshole.”
“Oh, well…my apologies. Please do enlighten me on what exactly she is then?” I laugh, enjoying his discomfort—the same discomfort I’m suffering from because I’m also stuck in a turmoil of shit. In any other situation, I would comfort my friend. Tell him it’s going to work out. Throw a few grand on his tab, so he receives an unexpected surprise the next time he takes a private room. But the fucked up thing is, I’m starting to think his private room engagements are coming to an end too. Jesus. I shake my head, laughing. Not like mine already haven’t. I have no interest in taking a girl into those rooms unless it’s the one I want.
“What the fuck is so funny?” He snaps.
“Has the beast fallen for the beauty?” It’s as if I’m asking myself that question. And the answer would be yes. I’ve not only fallen, but I’ve also surrendered my balls on a silver platter. I would do just about anything to make her mine forever.