Stroke of Midnight (Cinderella 1)

It’s complicated because he still won’t spend a whole night in my bed and after being turned down several nights in a row, I don’t ask to go to his. I hate the closed-off feeling I get from him after we’ve gone down our dirty hole. He’s able to erect his walls and continue being the same unflappable Winston Constantine. I, however, shed more layers of myself each time. All that’s left is a bare, vulnerable version of myself nearly desperate for his affection.

We also haven’t slept together.

He’s only entered me the one time, in his office. It was a brutal invasion of my ass that left me sore for days. This, too, feels like a rejection.

Tonight, it all changes. I have a plan. I’m going to seduce him.

Even though I have no idea how that will go down, I plan on attempting it anyway. I’m almost tempted to fish out Perry’s business card from my purse in an effort to pull information out of him about Winston. Maybe if I know more about his past, I can go into this thing well-armed. But, knowing Winston, it’d probably just piss him off. I want to have sex with him, not send him running.

Every time I try and analyze why I want to sleep with the villainous monster, I can’t pinpoint a reason. I’ve made a list on my phone of pros and cons. The pro list is short while the cons list goes on and on. Still, I want him.

My phone buzzes, and I expect to see a text from Winston. He stayed late at work to meet with Nate and sent me home. Perry gave me a ride and also gave me his card in case I ever needed a friend to talk to. It was sweet, though I feel like Winston won’t think so.

Dad: Your dress arrived, sweetheart.

Me: What?

Dad: The one for the Constantine event tomorrow night. Manda said it’s a little simple, but she’s hired a stylist to come over at five to do your hair and makeup to make you stand out.

Gee, thanks, Dad, for believing Manda that I’ll be the most boring belle at the ball without her swooping in to save the day.

Rather than saying what I think because it’ll be wasted breath since he’s so in love with her, I type out a different reply.

Me: The dress was supposed to come to Winston’s.

I pause to think after I send the text. I’d been so flustered after the orgasm Winston gave me, I wasn’t paying too much attention when Tara, the dress clerk, asked me where to deliver the dress and accessories.

Crap.

Me: Oh no. I think I messed up.

Dad: It worked out then since Manda has graciously offered her stylist. I miss you anyway. Look forward to seeing you.

My heart clenches at getting a small glimpse of the dad who raised me.

Me: Miss you too, Dad. Love you.

Dad: Same, sweetheart.

I open Winston’s text conversation and send him what I hope will be the first step in my seduction.

Me: I want to negotiate a deal.

His response is immediate.

Winston: What do you want, little girl?

Me: You. I’m willing to pay for it too.

Winston: You want to pay me to have sex with you?

I try not to cringe at how crazy it sounds. But I relax knowing he’s probably smiling and hoping I’m embarrassed by his words.

Me: Yes. 50k.

Winston: That’s expensive, Ash. You have college to think about . . .

Me: I’ll earn more later. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. I need this.

Winston: What happened to a freebie?

Me: I have certain requests . . .

Winston: Oh?

Me: I want you to treat me like you’re going to keep me forever.

Winston: Needy fucking girl.

Me: And I want to sleep in the bed with you. All night long. If you abandon me, you forfeit the money.

Winston: It’s just money.

Me: Fine, if you abandon me, you forfeit me.

Winston: Elaborate, brat, because you’re starting to piss me off.

A flare of heat burns through me, pooling in my gut.

Me: I need this, Win. These are my terms.

Winston: Time for me to negotiate . . .

Me: Name your terms.

Winston: I’ll discount it by half if you let me call you names and make you cry.

I should not get a thrill from his words but damn if I’m not turned on.

Me: Doable.

Winston: I’ll knock five more off if we film it.

Me: Deal. Oh, and I get to see you fully naked. Add five back on for that.

Winston: Write ‘Winston’s Dirty Whore’ on your stomach, wait on the bed naked, and I’ll discount it by ten.

Me: So fifteen for a mean fuck where you degrade me but you’ll hold me all night?

Winston: And I’m coming inside you.

Thank God I remembered to get back on the pill last week, because I want nothing more than him to do just that.