Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
The words seemed to enter my body more directly than my mind.
I stared at him. “In the bathroom of a café?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“A little, maybe, from the standpoint of your previous life.” He held my gaze. “So is downloading Selecta Arrangements the morning after being fired for taking a senator’s cock and his belt in the same evening.”
The shock of hearing it said so plainly made me flinch as if he had struck me.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“Do you want me to?” he asked.
I couldn’t answer.
He let the silence sit there, then said, “The lesson will not be random. I’ll begin by seeing how well you follow simple instructions given you by a dominant man. I’ll see whether your body tells the same truth your pride keeps trying to conceal. And I’ll decide whether I’m interested in the effort required to train you.”
Train you.
My nipples tightened almost painfully under the ivory lace. I crossed my legs without thinking about it.
I watched him observe the movement, and more heat came to my face.
“Ten thousand,” I said, because I had to say something. My voice sounded thin. “That’s… excessive.”
“For most girls, perhaps. You’re more valuable than most girls, I believe, as an associate member.”
The bluntness of that made me blush again. I could practically hear sexual servant through the sounds of associate member.
“And,” he added, “you will require more work.”
To my horror, I clenched, down there, at this statement that should have offended the hell out of me.
My shaking hand brushed the water glass. I didn’t trust myself to bring it to my lips.
“You’re talking as if I’m already yours.” I realized I had begun to try to buy time, but I had no idea what else to do.
“No,” he said. “I’m talking as if you’re standing on the threshold of a choice and pretending not to recognize the doorway.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know me.”
He looked almost bored by that. “I know enough to know that Senator Gowry did not invent your response to authority. He only found a crude way to exploit it.”
The accuracy of that hit me like a brick to the head. I felt like I should hate him for seeing even that much.
“I said I don’t want to talk about that.”
“And I said I’d make it simple. If you want ten thousand a month, a subsidized apartment, and my mentoring, then eventually you will tell me exactly what happened and let me decide what kind of correction you need for what you did with your lovely body. If you don’t want that, leave now and we’ll never speak again.” He glanced at his watch. “If you want to test whether obedience to me is something your body and mind can bear, you have five minutes.”
He took out his phone.
Just like that.
The conversation, or that part of it, was apparently over.
He unlocked the screen and began typing with efficient attention, as if he had not just overturned my entire inner life in the space of three minutes.
I sat there in shocked stillness.
My heart had started to pound so hard that my blouse felt too tight. My breathing had gone shallow. I was suddenly afraid I might actually faint, here among marble tables and pastries and people discussing absolutely ordinary things while I sat across from a man who had offered to pay me ten thousand dollars a month to become, in essence, his trained sexual possession.
I told myself to stand up.
I told myself to tell him to go to hell.
I told myself to throw the water in his face, or at least to pick up my bag and leave with whatever remained of my dignity.
Instead I sat motionless and watched him answer email.
As far as I could tell, he was not paying any attention to me at all. That was what undid me the most thoroughly.
If he had watched me, I thought I could have resisted him. If he had smirked, I could have hated him cleanly. If he had leaned forward and coaxed, I could have called it manipulation. But he simply gave me a structure, a time limit, and then withdrew his visible interest as though my choice belonged to me and he had no need to beg for it to go in his favor.
My fingers had gone cold. Under the table my thighs were pressed together so tightly they ached.
I looked toward the back of the café without meaning to. A short hallway. A dark little sign. Restrooms.
My pulse lurched.
No.
Absolutely not.
I picked up my bag. My hand shook so badly I nearly fumbled the strap. Porter did not look up.
Good, I thought wildly. Fine. Good. I’m leaving.
I stood.
The room felt slightly tilted. I had that odd sensation again of watching myself from a step outside my own body: the red-haired woman in the neat skirt and blouse rising from the table where a rich, self-possessed man sat with his phone… the same woman, aware of the sexy lingerie under her clothes, face flushed, breathing too fast.