Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“You thought a man like me says things he doesn’t mean?”
“I think most people say things they don’t mean,” I say, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.
His cheek twitches. “That can be true. But in this case, when I’m talking, and I’m talking about you, you can assume I mean what I say.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t actually disbelieve you. I just… I did something. I’m used to doing things.”
“That’s a caliber of excuse that will get you nowhere, though there’s no excuse that would have worked. I’m sure you are used to doing things, as you put it. But my pet needs to do what she’s allowed to do within the parameters I set.”
“Can’t you control someone else? Why me?”
My questions come from a very real place of confusion. I’m attractive enough, but I’m not make-a-billionaire-go-nuts-for-me-instantly hot. I know that. I can be realistic about my appearance. That means there’s something else about me he’s into. Maybe.
“You’ve caught my eye,” he says. “It might not be easy to be mine, but I know it will be better for you than the life you were living before me. Lie back down over my lap.”
I bite my lip nervously, as if I have a choice. “Are you going to spank me again?”
He smiles, his eyes dark with an intention to do all sorts of things to me.
“I might,” he says. “If I did, you’d take it, wouldn’t you, pet?”
Fuck. There’s a part of me that wishes I had the nerve to open the door behind me and just reverse somersault right the hell out of this car. Marcus is predatory, and I am starting to think he is doing this precisely because I don’t want it.
I bet he’s surrounded by women who would give anything to be in this position. And that’s why they’re not in it. It’s no fun keeping people captive if they want to be kept captive. You’ve got to get someone who hates it. Someone who fights back. Someone who gets themselves into trouble. Someone you can pin down over your knee and spank hard for as long as you like because she has nobody in her corner as far as you know.
He smooths his palm over my sore ass, rubbing me intimately, taking some of the sting away for a brief moment.
“I don’t know what to make of you, Charlie,” he muses. “I thought you were being a naughty pet, trying to get yourself in trouble, but you seem almost confused by your own actions—and you’re certainly confused by mine, aren’t you.”
“I am definitely confused by yours,” I agree.
There’s a brief moment of silence in which I think he is trying to come to a decision of some kind. I stay quiet. Anything I say is just going to make things worse.
“I have taken the day off,” he says. “I will be working from home, and you will be coming with me. I don’t trust you on your own, and it is clear you are in need of some remedial training.”
“What does that mean?”
He smacks my ass again, but not as hard. “It means you’re in trouble.”
He pulls my leggings back up for me, snugging all of my attire back into place. It’s a belated gesture of modesty that I appreciate, nonetheless.
That seems to be the worst of it for the time being, but he doesn’t let me up off his lap. He keeps me pinned there until we sweep into the underside of a building, down to a private parking lot. As we get out of the car, I feel his hand rub the back of my neck in a thoughtful sort of way. He is steering me toward the confines of a private elevator that will no doubt conduct us upward to one of his many homes.
I allow myself to be taken, staying quiet as we enter the elevator. I don’t want him to think I am fighting him. I want him to think he has subdued me.
“I thought having you chipped would be enough, but I think you need a collar too,” he says. “You’re the kind of pet who can’t be let off-leash.”
I should be listening to his lecture, but I am distracted by the fact that I am about to go inside one of Marcus Waterstone’s private residences. This is somewhere he lives. Somewhere he feels comfortable to work from. I bet this place is full of incriminating evidence.
I start to get excited. I’m not going to risk taking notes again, so I’m going to need to keep my wits about me and do my brain exercises to remember everything.
“What do you think of that, pet?”
“What do I think of what?”
He takes me by the chin and directs my gaze to his. I feel a bolt of connection as our eyes meet, and I realize that he may not know what I am up to, but he does know I am up to something.