Filthy Beast - B. B. Hamel (ang.)

FILTHY BEAST

B. B. HAMEL

Copyright © 2017 by B. B. Hamel All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Mailing List Prologue: Tara 1. Jackson 2. Tara 3. Jackson 4. Tara 5. Jackson 6. Tara 7. Jackson 8. Tara 9. Jackson 10. Tara 11. Jackson 12. Tara 13. Jackson 14. Tara 15. Jackson 16. Tara 17. Jackson 18. Tara 19. Jackson 20. Tara 21. Jackson 22. Tara

23. Jackson 24. Tara 25. Jackson 26. Tara 27. Jackson 28. Tara 29. Jackson 30. Tara Virgin’s Daddy: A Dark Romance Prologue: Sadie 1. Gavin 2. Sadie 3. Gavin 4. Sadie 5. Gavin 6. Sadie 7. Gavin 8. Sadie 9. Gavin 10. Sadie 11. Gavin 12. Sadie 13. Gavin 14. Sadie 15. Gavin 16. Sadie 17. Gavin 18. Sadie 19. Gavin 20. Sadie 21. Gavin

22. Gavin 23. Sadie 24. Sadie Intense: A Dark Billionaire Romance Prologue: Aria 1. Ethan 2. Aria 3. Ethan 4. Aria 5. Ethan 6. Aria 7. Ethan 8. Aria 9. Ethan 10. Aria 11. Ethan 12. Aria 13. Ethan 14. Aria 15. Ethan 16. Aria 17. Ethan 18. Aria 19. Ethan 20. Aria 21. Ethan 22. Aria 23. Ethan 24. Aria 25. Ethan 26. Aria

27. Ethan 28. Aria Thank You Preview Preview

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PROLOGUE: TARA

T

hat filthy, dirty, disgusting animal.

He thinks he can have whatever he wants. He’s a dirty, enormous, muscle-brained brute. He’s arrogant, rude, dangerous, way too famous, and an asshole. I’ve known him since I was a little girl, and he broke my heart a long time ago. I have a million reasons to hate Jackson Hendricks. So I’m extra stupid for putting myself in this position. I should never, ever be alone with him. I should never, ever let him touch me. I definitely shouldn’t watch while he strips off his shirt, revealing his incredible muscular body. “What are you staring at?” he says, a smirk on his lips. He knows exactly what I’m thinking about. He

steps closer to me and I back up, bumping against the wall of his trailer. His grin gets deeper as he pins me there. He broke my heart. He promised me everything, promised he’d always take care of me, that he’d take my virginity and make me feel special for the rest of my life. Instead, he joined the military and disappeared. He was the boy next door. Well, really, he was the man next door. Jackson has always been… well, he’s always been huge. Well over six feet tall and rippling with muscles, everyone assumed he’d become a professional football player or something. Jackson knew he was big and scary, and he always used that to his advantage. He wasn’t afraid of anything, especially not proving exactly how huge he was. “You know why I took this movie?” he whispers in my ear. “It wasn’t for the money.” Bastard. I hate him. I moved to LA and got into the movie industry assuming I’d never see him again. I wanted a new start in life. I wanted to forget about my past, including that brute next door. And I thought I was right, I thought he had disappeared for good. I never forgot him, but I moved on.

Until one day, I see him in this huge action film, and I realize that he’s back in my life. Now we’re working together. And I can’t get away from him. He’s the star of this movie, and I can’t avoid him even if I wanted to. I feel his heat as he presses closer against me. My heart starts racing. I keep wanting to run away, but I can’t. Jackson’s even bigger than I remember, even filthier, even more… absolutely freaking gorgeous. “I took this movie to get what I really want,” he says to me, his hands on my hips. “I took this movie to get a taste of what I lost but never stopped needing. It’s been a long time, Tara, but I haven’t forgotten my promise.” I turn bright red. I’ll never forget that promise, either. I was going to give myself to him. I gasp when his lips find mine. I moan as his hands strip off my jeans. He could crush me. I know he’s going to destroy me. I should run away from this man. I can’t let him break my heart a second time. And yet I know I’m nothing under his enormous hands, and I can’t stop until I’m totally shattered.

1

JACKSON

“Y

ou gotta take it, Jackson, you just gotta! You’ll be a star!”

I grunt at Mickey and lean back in the chair. I put a fake frown on my face. “I don’t know,” I say. “Brutally Dishonest is an awful title. And that offer?” “They’re paying way above your minimum, Jackson.” Mickey is starting to sweat and I’m loving it, but I keep my cool. Mickey Rains in my agent, and he made my career. He took me from a nobody struggling to get work as a stunt double and turned me into a real life action star. This was not the life I ever thought I’d have. When

I retired from the SEALs, I thought I’d go into private security. But a minor knee injury made sure that I’d never be healthy enough to be on my feet for hours at a time, running around and killing guys. That’s probably for the best. And so I started looking into a new industry, and stunt work seemed like a good fit for me. Despite the knee, I’m still a big, healthy guy, and I can do all that shit, no problem. But Mickey Rains saw more in me, apparently, and he started shopping me around as a real life action hero. I’m an ex-SEAL with real combat experience and the medals to prove it. I’m handsome, I can act a little bit, and I’ll bring real life experience to any movie set. I booked my first feature-length film after a month of living in Los Angeles. I was playing the supporting role, but the reviews were good, and soon the offers started rolling in. My first real hit, The Alpha Hero, catapulted me into serious stardom. That all happened just over a year ago. It’s been a crazy time for me, and I’ve made more money and done more than I ever thought possible. But now that I’m established, it’s time to get down to business. It’s time to do what I really came out here to do.

“Still, do I really want another action movie right now? I just did one.” Mickey’s eye bug out. “What… what are you thinking?” “Period drama,” I say. “Something with costumes, that sort of shit. You know, put me in a pirate outfit, get me shirtless and sweating. Or hell, give me a big ass sword and some armor.” Mickey looks like he’s going to have a freaking heart attack. “Armor?” he asks me. “Hell yeah, armor. I’d love to get some real sword fights on my resume.” “Sword fights,” he says, shaking his head. “Jackson, you have to be insane. You’re a military action star. You do contemporary stuff, with guns and all that, where your real world experience comes into play. That’s what works for you, and this movie is perfect.” I deepen my fake frown. Truth is, I already decided that I’m doing this movie. I just want to see Mickey sweat a little bit. He’s like a mentor to me. I’m thirty and Mickey’s in his forties, but I feel like he’s a father figure or some shit like that. He believed in me when nobody else did, and I owe him everything.

But it’s still fun as fuck to mess with him. “Maybe I want to do something more serious,” I say. “Maybe an indie?” “Indie?” He practically falls out of his chair. “Fuck indies, Jackson, are you crazy? You’re hot right now but that doesn’t last forever. You need another solid movie under your belt, prove that The Alpha Hero wasn’t just some fluke.” I sigh, really playing it up. “You sure about that? I just don’t know.” “Listen. You have to trust me. I want you to become the biggest star in the whole fuckin’ industry. You just gotta listen to me.” I can’t take it anymore. The poor guy is about to have a meltdown. He thinks his biggest rising star is about to throw away his career and do some lame ass fucking indie chick flick or some shit like that. I burst out laughing and point at him. “Holy shit, you were buying that,” I say to him. “My acting’s gotten a lot better, hasn’t it?” It takes him a second, but he leans back in his chair and finally releases a sigh. “You motherfucker. You were fucking with me?” “Of course I was,” I say. “I’m going to do this

movie.” “Oh thank sweet merciful fucking Jesus!” he says, jumping up. “Sign those papers, my big man, and let’s celebrate. VON!!!” I nearly jump in my damn seat when Mickey yells his assistant’s name. Von quickly comes into the room. He’s a short little West African guy with some of the most perfect teeth I’ve ever seen in my life. “Yes, sir?” he asks. I think Von’s maybe twenty at most, fresh out of school and trying to get into the business. “Get us champagne. None of that cheap shit. Our boy here is going to make us a lot of money.” “Sick,” he says, grinning. “Don’t say sick,” Mickey answers, making a face. “Sorry sir, I mean, that’s very wonderful.” Von starts to back out. “Don’t do that fake respectful bullshit either, goddamnit, Von. Hurry up and get the damn bubbly!” Von disappears out the door and I shake my head, grinning to myself. I love making Mickey happy, and nothing makes him happier than landing a big

movie deal. But I don’t really care about the money. There have been plenty of other big offers in the last couple weeks, and I’ve turned them all down, one after the other. None of them have been right for me. Brutally Dishonest isn’t the best movie of the bunch. It’s not even offering me the most money. It won’t have the biggest release, although it’ll still probably do reasonably well. It’s not a step backwards, more like a lateral move, although Mickey still thinks it’ll be good for me. And I agree, though for different reasons. Von comes back a minute later with glasses and the bottle. He pours three and Mickey stares at him. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “Big balls on you, Von,” I say, laughing. He shrugs, grins, and downs the champagne. “Congrats, Jack,” he says to me. “His name’s Jackson, you little shit, now get out of here.” I grin and shake Von’s hand as he leaves. I love that little guy. Although Mickey gives him shit, I know he’s a great assistant.

“To you, big guy,” Mickey says. I take my glass, we toast, and I down it in one gulp. “Now, let’s do the boring shit.” We sit down next to each other on his couch and start to walk through the contract. Normally I’d ignore all of this stuff, but there’s one thing I’m waiting for. We get past the offer, the deadlines, all that shit, and finally get to the part where it lists the crew. “Okay, director is some German guy named Lionel, no last name apparently,” Mickey says. “Buncha other guys, you know what a crew looks like.” He goes to turn the page, but I stop him. “Wait. Who’s the script girl?” He blinks, surprised. “Script girl? I don’t fucking know, some kid. Who cares?” “Read the name,” I say, trying to stay patient. He sighs and skims through it. “Okay, let’s see… photography… gaffer… okay, here we go. Script girl.” He squints at the name. “Tara Austin.” He looks up at me, a confused look on his face. “That mean anything to you?” I smile at him and nod. “That name means a lot to me, Mickey. Now let’s sign this shit.”

He looks confused, but he doesn’t press. I wouldn’t tell him the truth even if he asked anyway. Truth is, I’m doing this movie for that script girl. She doesn’t know it, but I’m coming for her. I fucked up once upon a time, although I did what I did for a good reason. But now I’m back and I’m going to make up for that one colossally stupid decision.

2

TARA

W

hen I first came to LA, I hated it here. I hated the perfect weather, hated the perfect people, and really hated how fake everything felt. But I was determined. I came to this town with a dream, and I’m not the kind of girl to give up just because I get a little homesick. And so over the years, I met people, made friends, built up a life, and landed the best job I could ever imagine working for one of the largest studios around. But over the years, personal stuff kind of fell by the wayside. I’ve dated, sure, but never seriously. Guys never stuck around, and I guess I never cared all that much. I was dedicated to building my career. And now here I am, twenty-eight years old, living

with an awesome roommate, but totally, chronically, impossibly single. I haven’t met a decent guy in months, and I’m starting to feel like I never will. There’s something missing in my life. I love working as a script girl, even though I despise that title. But basically, I’m the liaison between the writer, the director, and the script itself. I make sure that we’re following the plot, that things make sense, that we’re keeping continuity. If lines change, I mark the main script up, and I make sure it makes sense in the greater story. If a character says his name is Timmy, and later in the movie his name randomly changes to Tommy, well, that’d be my fault. I love it. I love working with different directors, actors, and writers. I do a bunch of different things on set, and I’m like a jack of all trades on top of my usual script duties. And I’m looking forward to this upcoming job. My roommate, Laney Lane, not her real name, is one of the best action writers in Hollywood. But because she’s a woman, it’s harder for her to sell her scripts. Fortunately though, I was able to get her script for Brutally Dishonest into the right hands at my studio, and the rest is history. Now I get to work as script girl for my closest friend’s

film, and I can’t wait to get started. I wake up early and roll out of bed. Our apartment isn’t the nicest thing in the world, but I like it enough. It’s basically a little bungalow at the edge of town. I head into the bathroom, do my usual morning routine, and find Laney already up, drinking coffee, and typing away. “Your work ethic is inspiring,” I say to her, grinning. “Gotta keep the grind going,” she says, a little bleary-eyed. “Wait, did you sleep last night?” I cock my head at her. She grins at me sheepishly and looks up from her screen. “How can you tell?” “Well, the dead-eyed stare, the messy hair, and the general disheveled appearance kind of gives it away.” She sighs and leans back, yawning. “I got sucked into this story and now I can’t stop.” “What’s it about?” I ask. “I think it might be the sequel to Brutally Dishonest. It’s about Brock Brockhard and his huge, ah, gun, you know.”

I grin at her. “Sure, I get it.” “Anyway, he’s sent to deal with some Nazis down in South America, but when he gets there, he finds out that the conspiracy goes so much deeper.” “Deeper how?” I ask. I’m already a fan. Nothing wrong with killing some Nazis. “Aliens,” she says, her eyes a little wide. “Laney,” I groan. “You can’t be serious.” “Aliens,” she repeats. “Brock finds out that the Nazis are working with the aliens to overthrow the American government, but really, the aliens are just using the Nazis. They’ve already infiltrated the government to the highest level, and it’s up to Rick to root them out.” I look at her for a second and decide just to be honest. “You need to sleep,” I say. She frowns at me. “That bad?” “Maybe,” I say. “I haven’t read it.” “Damn.” She stretches and yawns again before shutting the laptop lid. “I probably should sleep. The aliens only appeared in the third act, which I started writing around three in the morning.” I can’t help but laugh. Laney is always doing stuff

like this, staying up too late and writing crazy scripts. Most of the time, I can convince her to make them a little more conventional, but every once in a while she writes a masterpiece and shops it around. Those don’t usually sell, but she has sold a few other movies. Brutally Dishonest is her biggest though, and it’s looking like the budget is going to be huge. I head into the kitchen and pour myself some coffee. At least she was nice enough to make some for me, too. I sip my mug and pause when I catch sight of the magazine on the kitchen table. “Laney,” I call out, walking over to it and slowly picking it up. “What’s this doing here?” “You’ll have to be more specific,” she answers from the other room. I stare at his face, his handsome, familiar face, and I want to vomit. I hate seeing him around town. I hate how popular he is, how everyone knows his name. Women want to throw themselves at him, men want to be him. He’s a real action star and people love him. But they don’t know Jackson like I do. He’s a liar, a filthy asshole, and a bastard. I don’t want to ever see him again, and yet now I can’t seem to freaking

get away from his face. I walk out into the living room, holding up the magazine. Laney looks up and grins at me. “Oh,” she says. “That.” “Yes, this. Since when do you read this stuff?” It’s a gossip rag that basically writes about upcoming and in-production projects. “Did you read that front cover?” “No,” I admit. “You know this thing is wrong more often than it’s right.” “It’s not wrong this time. Read it.” I look down at the cover, and I think I have a heart attack. “No,” I whisper. “Oh yeah,” Laney says, sounding so excited. “I couldn’t believe it either when I first heard, but it’s true. I got the email last night. He signed the papers a couple days ago, and it’s official.” “Shit,” I whisper to myself, and I feel like my whole life is crashing down. In big, bold letters, the headline read, “Big Jackson Hendricks to star in Brutally Dishonest.”

“Isn’t he so hot?” Laney says to me. “I’m a little jealous. You’ll get to see him every day. You’ll be working pretty close with him. I’d give anything to get close to that guy.” I drop the magazine and shake my head. “No, no, hell no, Laney,” I say. “I won’t work with that asshole, absolutely not.” I storm away, back into my bedroom. I slam the door behind me and climb back into bed. I wrap the sheets around my head, but I know that won’t make a difference. Jackson is going to star in Brutally Dishonest, and I’m going to have to see him every single day for the whole shoot. That could last months. Laney doesn’t know. Nobody knows what he did to me. Nobody knows how we lived next to each other for years, grew up together, made promises to each other. Nobody knows how he disappeared one day, leaving me brokenhearted, and never once answered a single letter I sent him. I moved away, moved on, and thought I was over him. But now that he’s back, and in the freaking business no less, I can’t escape my feelings. I can’t escape the hurt, the anger, and yes, the desire that

still lingers inside of me. Having to work with him is like my biggest nightmare. He was the boy next door. He was the man I wanted to give myself to. He said I was too young, since he was older than me, but I just had to wait. I was patient. I was waiting. We kissed, held hands, talked all day long about what we wanted to do when we got older. And then he turned eighteen and he vanished. Now I’m stuck with him. I can’t back out of this movie, despite my little meltdown. Laney has been really good to me and she’s helped me through some tough times over the years. I can’t turn my back on her now and not work on this. She’s my closet friend. Heck, she’s probably my only friend. I can’t let her down. So I’m going to do this movie. I’m going to work with Jackson Hendricks. I’m going to relive that pain every single day during this shoot, all for a movie with a totally lame title. This is going to be a lot harder than I could possibly have imagined.

3

JACKSON

T

he first table reading is always a little uncomfortable.

When you shoot a big movie like this, you basically don’t know anybody. But you’re going to have to get close with everyone as quickly as possible. Everyone is a professional, but like with anything else, it takes a little while to feel out the people around you. But this table reading, it’s uncomfortable to the next fucking level. “Okay, Mr. Hendricks. Can you pick up from the top of the page?” I look at Tara and I can feel everything I used to feel and more. The weight of the years, the time

and the space that’s been between us for so long, it’s all there, crushing everything I want. She’s so grown up, so poised and beautiful, but she’s still that sixteen-year-old girl that I left behind. I guess I’ve grown up, too. “Take your shirt off. Go ahead. I won’t mind.” She stares back at me and doesn’t blink. I know she recognizes me. I can see it in her gaze. She remembers the long nights sitting up on her daddy’s porch, talking about our lives, what we wanted from the future. She remembers the way it used to be between us. Even if she’s pretending that she doesn’t, I can see it. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I have to look away from Tara and over at Holly Hall. She’s tall, blonde, fit, and very pretty. She’s an up and coming star, just like me, and I suspect she’s doing this movie just for a quick buck. She’s playing my love interest in the film, and from the way she’s looking at me right now, she’s either a fantastic actress or she wants to make real life look like the movies. “You know what I’m saying, girl,” I grumble at her, reading from the script. My character, Brock Brockhard, is a CIA contracted hitman with a dark

side and a desire for flesh. “We’re on this mission together. One pinky out of line, and I’ll break it off.” Holly is playing Helga, the woman from the CIA assigned to make sure that Brock doesn’t get in too much trouble. Of course, she eventually gives herself to him, because women can’t resist a bad boy for long. As I damn well know. “All right, be like that. Sit over on that bed, pretend like I ain’t here. But tomorrow, I’ll kill for you, and afterward you won’t see me the same.” I’m trying to act my best, but I can’t help but glance at Tara. She’s watching me, not reading the script like she should be. “That’s what you do. You’re a killer.” “I’m a man. With fucking needs.” “You think I care about that?” “You will.” I pause for two beats. “You fucking will.” “Very good!” Lionel, the German director guy cuts in, and the crowd claps. He has a splash of white hair on top of his gaunt, wrinkled face. He looks like he runs marathons for fun. I don’t know much about him, but I can already tell he’s going to be a

pain in the ass to work with, and I bet this movie won’t be half bad. “That’s lunch,” Tara calls out. “We’ll be back in an hour.” The group stands up and starts to mill around. I stand and start toward Tara, but she walks off as fast as she can away from me, and I know I can’t chase her down. I watch her go with a slight frown, but I’m not making a scene on my first fucking day. “Hey, that wasn’t too bad.” I turn around and Holly is standing there, a pretty smile on her red lips. I don’t trust her, not one bit. I’ve seen what girls like her can do with just a smile. “I think it won’t suck,” I say to her. She laughs at my stupid joke. “That scene’s a little heavy-handed. But we can make it work. Just needs a little chemistry on screen, huh?” “Yeah,” I grunt. “You’re right about that.” She laughs and pats me on the arm. “Come on, let’s grab something to eat.” “Sure,” I say. I glance around for Tara, but I can’t find her. Looks like I’m stuck with Holly for now.

Lunch passes quickly. Holly isn’t too high maintenance. She’s nice enough, not really my type, but I think she won’t be too difficult to work with at least. She can act, does her own stunts, and she’s not bad to look at. I’ll be able to handle her, at least. We get back to work after eating. We read through the script, Lionel makes some comments, and Tara runs the whole thing more or less. She’s like the director’s right-hand lady, and she looks better every time I glance at her. Her deep blue eyes strike me in a way no other woman has ever been able to before. And I’ve been with plenty of women. I’ve fucked my fair share of groupies and fame-seekers ever since my big movie came out, and plenty more before that, too. Not so much during my time overseas in the SEALs, but still. I’ve done pretty well for myself. Tara is on a whole other level. Thick dark hair, deep blue eyes, smooth pale skin, gorgeous figure. She looks a little uptight, but I think that’s because she’s uncomfortable with me nearby. I don’t blame her. She doesn’t know why I left, or at least I never told her. I never answered her letters, never made any attempt to contact her. Back then, I thought it would be better for both of us if I just disappeared.

It wasn’t, not at all. Not even fucking close. I thought about her every day those first few years. And slowly she faded, but she never went away. When I got home, I tracked her down. I found out that she moved out to LA and so I moved out here too. That’s how I found myself in this crazy situation. I thought I’d become a stunt guy, earn some cash, get myself in good shape, and then look her up. Instead, I became a movie star. My plan hasn’t changed, though. I’m still here to hunt her down and make her mine. The read-through goes well for the rest of the day and when it’s over, everyone stands around the table and talks about the movie. Normally the cast and crew would go out and celebrate a little bit, do some of that team bonding bullshit. I’ll go if everyone else does, but I have something more important to do first. Tara is busy picking up the scripts and cleaning up, and I leave her alone for now. I chat with one of the lighting guys, a decent dude named Paul. After about ten minutes, I spot Tara alone toward the back of the stage, putting the scripts away in a locked safe. “Excuse me,” I say to Paul. “Catch you later.”

“Yeah, man. Come out with us tonight. Crew’s getting together.” “Will do. Send me the details.” I nod and stalk away before I can give him my number. I feel bad, but I’m in a hurry. Tara’s back is to me and she’s alone. I can’t let this opportunity pass. My heart is hammering as I approach her from behind. I love her ass and her hips. She’s grown into a fucking woman. I can’t help but think about the big promise I made to her all those years ago. I told her I’d take her virginity. I promised her, over and over again, that I’d do it. She was beautiful, even back then, but I was a stupid kid. I thought we should wait, at least until she was eighteen. I didn’t want her to regret anything since I was older than her. That was fucking dumb. I should have taken what I wanted back then, but I was a kid. I won’t make that same mistake again. I stop a few feet from her. “Tara,” I say. She doesn’t jump. She just puts the scripts down and turns to face me. She looks up at me, her deep blue eyes piercing into mine. I’m almost a foot taller than her, but in my mind, she’s a giant.

“I guess I should say ‘welcome home,’ but you’ve been back for a while. And we’re not home.” I smile a little bit at that. “You can say it anyway.” “Welcome home, asshole.” That makes me grin. She’s always been a little spitfire. “It’s good to see you.” “Yeah, I bet. I was wondering if you even recognized me.” “I recognized you the second I saw you.” “Funny. Since you haven’t tried to talk to me in what, over ten years?” “Twelve years,” I say softly. “It’s been twelve years since we last saw each other.” “We were kids back then,” she says, staring up at me. “Yeah, we were. You haven’t changed.” She smiles a little bit, just a little bit. “You have.” “Really?” I grin and look down. “I got a little bigger.” “You always were huge,” she says, shaking her head. “No, it’s the way you carry yourself.”

“Oh yeah? How do I carry myself?” “Like you own the world.” She smirks at me and I laugh. “Believe me, I don’t feel that way.” “I bet you do. You’re a big movie star now.” I grin at her. I expected her to act this way, honestly. Frankly, I would have been disappointed if she didn’t give me shit. “I’m a minor movie star,” I correct her. “You haven’t done so bad for yourself, I hear.” “I’m a career script girl.” “You’ve done good work on some big movies.” She hesitates. “How do you know that?” I grin at her again. “Might have done a little research.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Of course you did. You knew I’d be working this movie, didn’t you?” “I knew,” I admit. “Why do you think I took it? It’s not exactly the next enormous blockbuster.” She stares at me, surprise clear on her face. “You took this movie to see me? You could have just called.”

“You wouldn’t have answered.” I step toward her, heart hammering fast. “This way, you have to see me, whether you want to or not.” She hesitates again and for a second, I think she’s going to step closer to me. I can see that old look in her face, that desire and need and pure lust. I may be a big, filthy bastard, but I know this woman. I know what she wants. I know how she thinks. “Yeah, well, I don’t. You should’ve just called.” She storms past me, walking quickly back toward the group. I let her go. I won’t let her see the momentary hurt on my face. I’m not a pussy, so I get over it fast. I couldn’t have expected more from her. I broke her heart, disappeared, and didn’t call. For all she knew, I was dead. And now I just show back up in her life, forcing her to be near me. No, I knew she’d be angry, but still. I was hoping there’d be something… and there will be. Sooner or later, she’ll feel it again. Or she already feels it, and she’ll let herself embrace it. I came here for this. All told, that wasn’t so bad. I’m not going to give up on her, not by a long shot. Hell, maybe this’ll be more fun. I always did like a fucking challenge.

4

TARA

I

knew this was going to suck. I just didn’t know exactly how much until one week passes and I already want to

quit. It’s not that Jackson is being obnoxious. In fact, after that first conversation at the table reading, he actually backed off a little bit. He still gives me these looks that make my entire spine shiver, but he’s not coming up to me and trying to talk to me. Which maybe is even a little worse, because now he’s spending most of his time with his coworkers and the crew. Everyone loves Jackson on set. He’s charming, funny, attractive, and a hard worker. There’s no bullshit with Jackson, which is actually surprising. Most Hollywood guys come with huge

egos, but not Jackson. He works his ass off to get every single shot right the way Lionel wants it. And he’s actually pretty good. I knew he could act a little bit based on his last movie, but I hadn’t seen him in person yet. Jackson is actually a talented actor working with limited material. I mean, he’s an action star, so there’s always going to be a little bit of leeway there, but he doesn’t need it. Jackson is a talented man, which I’ve known for a very long time. I still remember him back then. Everyone loved him. I knew he was going to go places, and I foolishly hoped he’d bring me with him. That only made it so much worse when he disappeared. Not only did he leave me, but I felt like he was throwing away so much of his potential by signing up for the military. Of course, I was wrong, but I was a stupid kid back then. I thought he was going to go get blown up overseas or something, but instead he had a long and successful career as a SEAL. And now he’s an action movie star, and I’m just a script girl, hopelessly angry with him for something he did over ten years ago. “Scene nine, take three. Action!” The clapper slaps down and the set is dead silent. I glance down at the script in front of me, trying to keep focused on

what’s happening in front of me. “They’re coming back, you know,” Jackson grunts. “Let them. We’ll be ready.” Holly pumps her shotgun, making that exaggerated loading sound. Her shirt is slightly torn and she’s sweating, making her look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t straight, I’d have a total lady boner for her. “We can’t win every fight.” Jackson pushes her shotgun down, glancing at the window. “They’ll come tonight. We have a few hours though. And in the meantime, we’re going to run.” Holly stares hard at him. “Run? Are you joking?” “Run,” he says, stepping closer to her. The tension ramps up, and the way he’s staring at her… he really does want to fuck her. I mean, I know he’s acting, but he really wants to do it. I bet he would take her right here, and I wouldn’t blame him one bit. She’s begging for it and… Oh my god, I’m being a jealous psycho. I take a breath and glance away, steadying myself. They’re acting right now. It’s Jackson’s job to make it look like he wants Holly right now. I mean, maybe he doesn’t have to be so good at it, and maybe he doesn’t need to stare at her breasts like that, but still. The scene is clearly working.

“I won’t run. Not after what they did to my sister.” “We’ll avenge her,” he whispers, and I glance down at my script. I frown at the words, We’ll get revenge for her. As Jackson leans in for the kiss, I lean in toward Lionel and show him the page. He looks at it and frowns. “Cut,” he calls out. Jackson and Holly stop, inches before their lips meet. “What’s wrong?” Jackson asks. “Was that too much?” “No, no, you two were great. But Jackson, your words. They are, ‘We will get revenge for her,’ you see?” He holds up my script for him. Jackson looks at me and smirks, and I look away. “Sure,” he says. “I understand.” “Okay, good. Reset, take it from the top.” I can tell from his smile that he thinks I stopped that scene just because he was going to kiss Holly, but that’s not the case. I know he’s going to kiss her a lot, it’s his job. I can’t be that jealous. I’m a professional, I’ve watched plenty of actors kiss, I know how it goes. Then again, I haven’t seen the boy that broke my heart kiss a beautiful woman right in front of me before.

The scene restarts, and this time they get through it all, including the passionate kiss. As he’s kissing Holly though, I could swear that he’s looking at me with a grin on his face, but of course that’s impossible. Still, I keep thinking about that moment for the rest of the day. I could have let that little line go, and most of the time I do. I don’t know why it mattered that he phrased it slightly differently. Did I just stop that because he was about to kiss her? No, that can’t be it. I was just doing my job. I’m supposed to make sure that they’re following the script and not deviating too much, and I guess I felt like that was too different. That has to be all there is. We break for lunch not too long after, but I just keep thinking about that moment. I didn’t break in again after that, and I’m sure nobody else thought anything of it. But I know Jackson noticed, and I know he liked it. I’m cleaning up the set and making sure the crew is putting stuff in the right spot when I hear him just behind me. “What do you think so far?” I turn around and Jackson is grinning at me. “It

looks good,” I say, which is what I’d say to any actor asking me that question. “I couldn’t help but notice that the very first time you interrupted to fix a line was during that scene earlier,” he says slowly. “What do you mean?” I ask him, eyes narrowing. “You were the one that got it wrong.” “Barely worth changing,” he says, and shrugs. “But you’re just doing your job.” “Right. Exactly.” I glare at him. “Did you just come over here to criticize me?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Not at all. Look, we have a long shoot ahead of us. I don’t want things to be weird.” I sigh and cross my arms. “It’s not weird.” “It’s weird,” he says, his grin getting bigger. “You’re still angry with me, and I probably deserve it. But let’s call a truce, at least until we’re done working together.” I sigh and watch him for a second. I’m trying to decide if this is some kind of trick, but if it is, I don’t see it. “Come on,” he says. “Just a temporary truce. Make this job easier on both of us. Afterward, you can go

back to hating me if you want.” “Fine,” I say, a little reluctantly. “Just for filming. You’re still a dick.” He laughs. “Fair enough. Come on, let’s grab some food. They can handle it over here.” I hesitate but I decide to follow him. He’s right, we need to bury the past, at least for now. If we can get to the point where things are at least passably friendly between us then maybe this might not be so bad. As we head over to the lunch counter and get some food, I can’t help but feel like I’m in school all over again. I used to walk through the halls with him and just bask in the glow of how popular he was. It’s the same on the set, everywhere he goes, people want to talk to him and say hey. He seems to know everyone’s name, and he seems so totally genuine in his interest with every single person that I’m almost jealous of him. He’s always had this natural charisma. Obviously it’s part of what drew me to him when we were kids. “Hey, you remember Camp Neshaminy?” he asks me as we move away from the lunch line and head off toward an empty table.

“I was just thinking about that too,” I admit to him. “It’s the line and eating outside, right?” I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. Feels so much like camp.” “Remember what I said to you when we first met?” he asks as we sit down together. Of course I remember. I remember every single word he ever said to me, but especially that moment. We were just little kids back then attending the same summer camp. I was pretty shy, and he was already king of the whole place. He had the counselors eating out of his palms and the kids all worshipped him. “You said, ‘hey four-eyes, come here and let me make you laugh.’” I grin at him. “You were always an asshole.” He laughs and nods. “Especially back then. But you looked so fucking grumpy all the time, I just had to try and make you smile.” “Yeah, well, I was better off without you.” He scoffs at that. “Hardly. I made those camps fun.” “I don’t think anything could make that place fun, Jackson. I’m pretty sure their budget was ten

dollars, and the director drank it all away.” He laughs at that and shrugs. “You’re probably right. I liked it, though. We used to sit on that dock after we were supposed to be in bed and talk. Remember that?” “I remember,” I say softly, smiling at him. “So is this your plan? Bring up good old memories and hope that I don’t think about the bad stuff?” He shrugs a little, smiling softly. “Guess so. How’s it working?” “Not bad so far. But you’re still an ass.” He laughs and digs into his food. I watch him for a second, smiling despite myself. Those summer camp days and nights were some of the best of my life, especially after he made me his friend. And later, when we got a little older and started to understand certain things, he made me more than that. Our first kiss happened on that dock, and while all the other guys were trying to finger their girlfriends and pressuring them to go further, he always respected me back then. We took it slow, and that only made me respect him more. Now, looking back on it, I wish I had done more with him. I wish I had gotten to experience what it would have been like with Jackson. I’ve always

wondered. I can’t really help but wonder. Jackson is so damn handsome and charming and good at everything. Sex with him would be like…. well, like a dream, I guess. “How’s your family?” he asks me. I shrug a little. “Not bad, I guess.” I hesitate for a second. “I heard about your mom. I’m really sorry about that.” He goes quiet suddenly. About a year after Jackson left, his mother died of cancer. I don’t know when she was diagnosed or really much about it. I was so angry with him in those days, I didn’t really look into it at all. I wish I had, because I know that his father wasn’t exactly a good guy. In fact, I know his father was a damn drunk, and they never had much money. “Happened on my first tour,” he says to me. “I tried to get back home for the funeral, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “That must have been hard. I’m sorry I never… you know.” “Yeah, I get it,” he says. “Don’t worry. She was sick for a while, so in a lot of ways, it was a relief.” I pause a second. “She was sick for a while?”

He nods. “I never talked much about it. She got diagnosed like a year before I signed up, died a year later. Cancer came back and got worse, you know how that can be.” “You didn’t tell me that,” I say softly, surprised. He never once mentioned it, not even back then. We were together when he found out. “I couldn’t talk about it,” he admits. “Dad was drinking more. My brothers were too young to do anything about it. I helped as much as I could.” He shrugs and forces a smile. “That was all a long time ago now, though.” I watch him as he goes back to eating, surprised as hell. I knew things were bad for him at home. We never really went to his place, since his father was such a shitty guy, but I had no clue about his mom. As far as I knew, she was pretty decent. He has two younger brothers, both of them grown now, but back then they were just kids. I know he did a lot for them, but there’s only so much an eighteenyear-old kid can do for his family. He turns the subject back onto the movie we’re filming, and we idly talk shop as we finish our lunch. I keep thinking back to what he said about his mother and the timeline, and things just seem so strange. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me back then and I can only imagine how hard that was for him.

But it only confuses me more. I don’t get why he joined the military and ran away, unless he was trying to get away from his parents, especially his father. I always assumed that was the case, he was just trying to get out of town, and he left without bringing me along. I always assumed he was too ashamed, and that’s why he never wrote back to me. But maybe not. There’s more to this story than I realized. He doesn’t seem to want to talk much about it, unless we’re talking about the good times, so I don’t press. It’s just good that we’re talking normally, and I don’t want to risk getting pissed off at him all over again. Still… things are strange. I need to know more. I still want to understand what he was thinking back then. He’s a bastard that broke my heart, but I have to be around this bastard. So it’s a truce for now. And who knows how long it’ll last.

5

JACKSON

E

very time I have to kiss Holly on set, I pretend that I’m kissing Tara.

It’s easier that way. Makes it feel more real. When my character says how bad he fucked up and kisses Holly’s character, I can really feel that shit if I pretend that Holly is Tara, and it’s me that’s saying everything to her. Though it’s an action movie, and mostly I’m shooting guns, fighting dudes, and blowing shit up. Which is fun as hell. But I do have to still act. Maybe my buddies from my old SEALs unit think what I’m doing is fucking ridiculous, I still take it seriously. It’s my job now, even though it’s not what I always thought I’d be doing. But I’m not the type of man to half-ass

something. People rely on me now. It took me a little bit to realize that, but it’s a lot like the military. Everyone relies on everyone else doing their job, and if we all work together, we can make something halfway decent. It’s my job to be the leading guy and to act, so I do my fucking hardest to make it all work. Although I have to admit, I get distracted sometimes. Having Tara on set is a little more difficult than I thought it would be. She’s just as fucking gorgeous as I remembered. After our little conversation a couple days ago, she’s been warming up to me, at least a little bit. Well, okay, she doesn’t turn and run whenever I get close to her, but we’re not exactly on great terms. The anger is still there, below the surface. I don’t know what I can do about that, or if there’s even anything I can do. I know I deserve it. I know I have to make it up to her. I can’t just tell her why I left. That’s taking the easy way out, and it isn’t fair. Everything she feels is real, and a lot of what I did back then was stupid as hell. I made mistakes and I pushed her away when I shouldn’t have, but I did it for what I felt were the right reasons. Even if I was wrong and those reasons were flawed, I still tried.

None of that matters now. I just need to stay close to her, and it’s not exactly hard on a movie set like this. I keep catching glances. I keep noticing her staring at me. When I’m sweating after an afternoon of filming, wearing nothing but a torn t-shirt and some tight-fitting pants, I know she’s watching the way I move. I know she’s still attracted to me, even if she won’t admit it. A couple days after that conversation, we film a particularly intense action scene. It takes all afternoon just to get like ten seconds of good, usable fighting film, and I’m back in my trailer, absolutely fucking exhausted. These fight scenes are a nightmare. They’re shot from a hundred different angles and they’re done a million different times, so it’s up to Tara to make sure that it gets all stitched back together properly. She’s standing over Lionel’s shoulder all day, watching the monitors and trying to determine if the footage is going to link up and make some semblance of sense. It also means she has to work closely with me. She’s coming on set, restaging everything, physically moving me back onto my marks and getting me in the right position. If I were less professional, I’d crack a joke or two, but I keep

things serious between us. But now, alone in my shower, I can picture her doing what I really want her to do. I want her to feel my bicep, kiss my neck, let me strip off her clothes. I want to taste that wet little pussy, lick every inch of it, make her moan and come hard as I slide myself inside of her. I’m still fucking hard when I get out of the shower, dripping wet, a towel pulled around my hips. I whistle to myself, a smile on my face as my cock slowly softens, and I step out into the main part of my trailer. “Jackson, I need you for just a second, did you—“ I stop short as Tara walks into my trailer and stares at me. I’m wearing just my towel, my body still slightly damp from the shower, my cock still a little hard from thinking about her. I watch as her eyes drift down my body and as soon as she sees my hard dick, they snap back up instantly. She turns bright red. And I fucking love it. I should be embarrassed, but I just don’t care. I love that Tara’s seeing me like this. Anyone else and I’d feel awkward that they’re seeing my hard dick, but not Tara. I want her to see it, want her to want it fucking badly.

“Uh, shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have barged in, I thought I heard you say it’s okay, I’m sorry, I just—“ “Slow down,” I say, grinning at her. “It’s not a big deal. Never seen a grown man in his towel before?” “Uh, yeah, I mean, of course I have,” she says, still beet red. “But you’re a little, uh…” I can’t stop grinning. “A little what?” “Uh, you’re a little…” Her eyes drift down to my cock again and snap back up immediately. “You’re a little wet, is all.” “Just stepped out of the shower. I was just thinking about you in there.” Her eyes go absolutely wide. “Uh, what?” “Sure. I was thinking about you in the shower.” I step closer to her. “You did a really good job today.” “Oh,” she says, not able to look at me anymore. “Right. Thanks. You too.” I stand there and stare at her, grinning madly. I love every second of this. She’s clearly mortified, but she’s struggling not to look. I don’t know why she hasn’t left the trailer yet, but I suspect she can’t tear herself away.

“So,” I say finally. “Why’d you barge in here?” “Oh, yeah, I need you real fast,” she says. I raise an eyebrow. “Real fast? A little last minute, but I think I can rise to the challenge.” She glares at me now. I’m laying it on thick, but I can’t help myself. It’s too damn funny. “For the scene,” she corrects me. “I need you for the scene real fast. We just need one quick continuity shot and then you’re done.” “All right, let’s go,” I say, moving to take off my towel. “Jackson!” she says, turning away. “Get dressed first.” “Oh, right,” I answer. “I thought you’d want to see the rest, since you’ve been staring.” “I have not been staring,” she says firmly. “Meet me on set.” She turns and practically runs out of the trailer. I laugh the whole time as I get dressed. I’ll probably have to shower again if they make me do some more active shots, but that’s fine. I don’t mind. That shower was more than fucking worth it. I shouldn’t press my luck. I don’t want to push Tara

away, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s so easy to rile up, always has been. We have this little truce for now, but I bet that can break at any point. I know I need to be careful. But sometimes I can’t help myself around her. I’m not a patient man, not at all, but I can be patient for her. She’s the first woman to understand me. She’s the last woman I want. I just need her to see all that, and maybe things can be okay again, maybe I can go back to before it all went to shit.

6

TARA

T

hat freaking monster. He’s a total freaking animal.

He loved every second of that, standing there in his towel, mostly naked, a little wet, and sporting a massive…. well, whatever. He wanted me to look, too. He wanted me to stare. And truth is, I could barely keep myself from walking right into that trailer and ripping that towel off his gorgeous body. I could see the outline. I mean, holy shit… he was huge, and pretty hard. He said he was thinking about me, but come on. There’s no way he got hard just thinking about me like that. Then again, he wasn’t really trying to hide it, and he wasn’t really getting soft, either…. Jesus. I need to stop thinking about Jackson’s

enormous cock. “Are they butchering my story yet?” I look up from my daydream and catch Laney grinning at me. “Hey you!” I stand up and walk over to her, pulling her in for a hug. The whole thing with Jackson’s ah, uh, towel happened yesterday, though I can’t stop seeing it like it was just ten minutes ago. We’re on a short break while the actors get changed and prepped for their next scene. “Place looks good,” she says, looking around the set. We’re shooting on a soundstage that was built to look like the inside of a giant abandoned factory. “Yeah, it’s actually going really well so far. Sticking to script.” She arches an eyebrow. “Really?” “Really,” I say. “Though Lionel made some changes.” She sighs. “They always fucking do.” “Look, it’s not bad. He just cut some minor characters.” Laney groans. “Let me see the script.”

“I can’t, you know that.” She makes a face but doesn’t push the point. I’m not supposed to let the master copy out of my sight, not even to show the writer. At this point, Laney doesn’t have much to do with the film. She sold her script and that’s pretty much it. She’s allowed on set because it’s customary to let the writer watch, but they’re not allowed to get involved with the filming at all. If the director makes changes, the writer is expected to basically shut up and deal with it. Laney hates that. I can already tell that she’s itching to yell at Lionel, but I won’t let that happen. I don’t want her to ruin her good reputation just on some minor script points, and besides, Lionel is doing a good job. Although he’s a little odd, he’s a good director. “How’s that hunk of a lead actor, by the way?” she asks, looking around. “He’s not bad,” I admit. “Doing a good job actually. He can kind of act.” “Kind of?” She snorts. “I saw his movie. He’s actually talented.” “Yeah, well, he’s just okay.” I look away from her. I can feel her studying me right now, trying to figure

out what I meant by that, but I’m not going to give her the satisfaction. “Well, you be careful around him, at any rate.” I hesitate. “Why?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer. “He has a bad reputation,” she says slowly. “You haven’t heard?” I shake my head, a knot in my stomach. “I try not to read that stuff before filming. I have to work with these people, you know?” “Well, I don’t have any problem combing through the rags,” she says, grinning at me. We start walking slowly through the scenery as we walk. “Word is, Jackson Hendricks is quite the ladies’ man.” I frown but stare down at the ground. It doesn’t surprise me at all, considering the way he looks now. He’s so big, so charming, and so handsome. I’m sure he can have anyone on this set right now if he wanted. Anyone except me. “He’s been good here,” I say, trying to keep it casual. I don’t want her to know how much I care about this.

“Maybe he is, and hey, this is all just rumor. So you know how it can be. But word is, he slept with literally every woman that worked on his last movie.” She elbows me softly. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll go through this one, too.” I stumble over a piece of rubble and kick it away. The rock smashes up against a fallen steel beam, or a piece of cardboard painted to look like one at least. Everything around here is fake, everything is phony, including, apparently, the people. “I don’t think so,” I say. “Yeah, you’re probably right. He’s working with Holly Hart. Could you look at anyone else if you had to work with her?” Laney grins at me. “Hell, I think I’d give her a try.” I roll my eyes at her. “Okay, enough. I have to work with these people, remember?” “Sure, sure,” she says and laughs. “Come on, kiddo. Why the long face? This movie is going to kick ass and make a billion dollars. We’re going places.” “Yeah,” I agree softly. “We’re definitely going places. Before she can say more, Lionel calls through the megaphone. “Back to places, people!”

“Better hurry,” I say to Laney. “Wouldn’t want him to start screaming in German.” “I wouldn’t? I bet that’d be awesome.” We laugh and hustle back to the front of the set. Laney heads off to sit in the chairs reserved for observers, and I take my place next to Lionel. He briefs me on the scene as Holly and Jackson take their places. The crew assembles, the lighting director makes sure everything is set up, and we get moving. The scene’s pretty straightforward. The main characters Helga and Brock just finished fighting off an Illuminati-controlled army using their advanced weaponry that they stole from the CIA. It briefly occurs to me that this movie makes no sense, and has nothing to do with the sequel that Laney is supposedly writing, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll probably rewrite it ten times, and anyway, it’s all crazy stuff. If you buy them, you’ll buy anything. I watch Holly and Jackson closely, but it seems totally normal. Nothing special is happening between them, and they deliver their lines and hit their marks professionally. I can’t help but keep thinking about what Laney said about them, though. Jackson and Holly make a lot of sense, they’re both rich movie stars rising up through the

ranks, and they’re both stupidly attractive. I don’t know why that makes me jealous or why I even care. Jackson is nothing to me anymore. We’re just friends, well, we’re on a friendly truce at least. We’re not even real friends. If he wants to sleep with Holly, he can. The scene finishes and the crew breaks again to get ready for the last bit of shooting before the end of the day. I go to review the film and cross-reference it to the script like I’m supposed to when something catches my eyes. It’s Jackson and Holly. They’re both leaning against a prop support beam, and Holly is laughing about something. She tosses her hair and touches Jackson’s arm, which makes him smile. She leans closer and whispers something in his ear, and he laughs loudly. I’m staring at them and I don’t even realize it until Lionel barks at me. “Script girl, get to work.” “Sorry,” I stumble, and look back at the monitor, but I can’t help but keep seeing that moment. Holly’s gorgeous lips next to Jackson’s ear. The way she whispers. The way he laughs. It seemed so… intimate. I have to get myself together. I’m not some jealous

little girl. They’re professionals acting in a film. They’re trying to be friendly together, because it’s easier to be friends with your coworkers than it is to be awkward or whatever else. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Stars become best friends during a film and then they drift apart and never speak again. That’s what’ll happen with Jackson and Holly. I’m sure of it. I don’t care if they have a friendship. And yet I keep seeing him in a towel. And I keep seeing her laughing, tossing her hair. Clearly flirting with him. I need to get it together. This is my job and nothing more. Jackson can do whatever he wants. We have a truce and nothing more.

7

JACKSON

I

’m sweating slightly, my breath coming faster as my body works to normalize itself. We just spent the last hour shooting the same ten-second fight sequence over and over again, and although I’m worn out, I’m still exhilarated. There’s nothing like a real fight to get your blood jumping, though this is pretty decent. I’ll never feel like I did back with the SEALs when I was doing real deadly work. Back then, the fights weren’t scripted, and my life was genuinely in danger. A film set is fun and it’s a nice workout, but I’m not in any real danger. And I’m not taking real lives. Out there on the battlefield, I killed America’s enemies, because that was my job.

Here though, I don’t have to worry about that. It feels good and it feels strange to be free of the constant nagging fear that my next mission might be my last. “How was that last flip?” I ask her as we watch the playback on the monitor. Lionel is already off talking with the lighting guys, and so it’s just me and Tara watching the footage. “It looks good,” she says without turning around. “I think it’ll fit right.” I nod and lean in closer. “They really sell it, don’t they?” I ask her. She glances back at me. “Huh?” she asks. “The stunt guys,” I say, nodding at the extras that I was fighting with. “They’re really impressive.” “Oh. Yeah, definitely.” “I mean, I’m the star or whatever, but I’d be nothing without guys that could do that. I mean seriously, watch him take this punch. It looks so…” I trail off as on screen, I punch a guy in the face and he collapses in a realistic way. “It looks real,” she finishes for me. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that.” As the footage ends, she turns and looks at me, a strange curiosity on her face.

“What?” I ask her. “It’s just, I’ve worked on more than a few big budget movies like this, and I’ve never had a lead talk about the crew like you do.” I blink at her, surprised. “What should I talk about?” “Well, normally it’s about how you look.” I grin at her. “I’m not that kind of guy. Besides, I know I look good.” She rolls her eyes and starts walking. I fall in beside her as we head across the set. “Fact is, I’m new to all this,” I say to her. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” “You seem pretty confident to me,” she says. “It’s easy to fake. I mean, two years ago, I was fighting on a battlefield in Syria, risking my damn life. And now I’m here, in front of cameras all day long.” She hesitates for a second. “That must be weird for you.” “Very weird,” I say. “Bizarre, actually. I was hoping…” I trail off a little bit as we walk though a group of stunt guys coordinating the next scene.

“You were hoping what?” she asks, stopping and facing me. “I was hoping you could help me. You know this business better than I do.” “You don’t need my help,” she says, not even thinking about it. “I think I do,” I answer. “I’ve gotten lucky so far, but if I’m going to do this job for real, I need to learn how to be an actual actor.” “And how can I help with that?” she asks, not batting an eye. “You know how to act on these sets. I have no clue, I’m just faking it.” She watches me for a second, and I can’t help but look into her gorgeous deep eyes. I keep seeing that strong, serious girl that I knew so long ago. She’s still there, just buried under the years and so many experiences that I don’t know a damn thing about. I barely know Tara anymore, and yet I feel like I know her so well. She’s barely changed. “Sorry,” she says. “I can’t.” “Just have dinner with me tonight. We’ll talk about it, let me pick your brain.” “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

Before I can say a word, she turns and walks off. I think about going after her, but I can’t see the point in that. The conversation bugs me for the rest of the day. I figured we had reached some kind of truce and maybe we could start being friends. But she was a little distant, maybe even a little cold. Maybe I’m stupid, but I can’t see where this resentment is still coming from. I know she’s still angry about what I did to her all those years ago, but this feels like it’s fresh or something like that. I don’t know what I’m doing to push her away, but it’s not like she’s going to open up and tell me. I spend the rest of the day slightly distracted, but I get through shooting. We have a bunch of action sequences to get through, which is actually good for me. I like to get physical when I have a problem, and I find that doing these scenes over and over is pretty cathartic. By the end of the day, I’m tired, but I feel productive and my stress is gone. At the end of a shooting day, the crew cleans up the set and starts to prep for tomorrow’s scenes. I take a shower while that’s happening, and by the time I’m done, people are usually heading home. Sometimes I go back to my apartment, have some scotch, and get some sleep. Sometimes I meet the crew guys out for a few drinks.

Today, I go looking for Tara. I’m not happy about how that conversation earlier went, and I want to know what the deal is. I asked her for help and she just outright turned me down. I want to get through that shell she has, and I can’t keep waiting for her to come to me. I find her chatting with some extras near the catering tent. I walk up to the group with a smile on my face. “Hey guys, mind if I steal her for a second?” I say to them. She looks at me with narrowed eyes but doesn’t say anything as I steer her away. We walk over to a more private part of the set. Above us, an enormous clock is ticking away, part of the scenery for tomorrow’s shoot. The face is glowing yellow, casting an eerie hue down on top of us. “What’s up, Jackson?” she says to me. I watch her for a second, measuring her. “Why did you turn me down earlier?” She sighs. “We don’t have to get into this.” “No, we do. You said we had a truce.” “I did say that.” She turns away from me, but I grab her arm and turn her back. Her eyes are wide as I

look down into hers, and goddamn, do I want to take her right here, right now. She’s so fucking sexy, and there’s a little anger in her gaze, which only makes me want her that much more. “I don’t trust you,” she whispers. “You don’t trust me?” I cock my head and slowly let her arm go. She crosses them over her chest. “No,” she says. “I’ve heard rumors about you, Jackson. And you know what? We don’t know each other anymore.” I stare at her for a second, surprised that she listens to that sort of shit. “You’re still that girl I knew,” I say to her softly. “I doubt it,” she says. “You’re not the guy I knew.” “Yes, I am. I’ve just been through some shit, like you have. But we haven’t changed, not fundamentally.” “I don’t know if I agree with that. And anyway, just because we have a truce, doesn’t mean I want to get close to you.” “I don’t believe that,” I say, smirking at her. “I see the way you look at me, Tara. You still remember what it was like back then, and you still wonder…” She glares at me. “Wonder what?”

“What it would feel like to have me do exactly what you want me to do to you.” She’s quiet for a second, but she doesn’t argue. My heart is beating fast and she’s not running away, not turning away from me. She tips her chin up and stares into my eyes. “Do you have any idea what it was like when you left?” she asks me suddenly. I frown at her and sigh. “No, I don’t,” I admit. “You just disappeared. One day we were as close as I’ve ever been with someone, and then you joined the military without even telling me. You never wrote, you never called.” “I got your letters,” I say softly. “I still have them.” She hesitates but shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter now. You decided to leave me, Jackson. That wasn’t my choice. And now you’re back and what, you think it can go back to the way it was?” “No,” I say to her. “I don’t think that. The man I was when I was out there… you didn’t want to know that man, Tara.” “Maybe but you didn’t give me that choice, did you?” I watch her quietly for a second and sigh.

“Remember that guy, Silas Lerain?” She hesitates, a little thrown off balance. “Yeah, I remember Silas. Never shut up.” “Yeah, that was Silas. Always talking shit.” I grin at her. “One day, we were walking to school and he goes, ‘Hey man, why the fuck do you hang around that Tara chick all the time? You could have any girl in the school. So why her?’ And you know what I said?” She shakes her head. “I have no clue.” “I said that she’s the only girl worth my time. He fucking made fun of me for saying that for weeks, but it was the truth. Still is the truth.” She smiles a little bit. “I think I remember that. He used to call you a bitch boy.” “He was an asshole,” I say, smiling a bit. “Didn’t you end up punching him?” “Yeah, well, that was because he called my little brother a faggot and tried to steal his iPod.” “Oh yeah, I forgot that. Silas really was a piece of shit.” “Not as bad as Marty, remember that kid?”

“Oh god,” she groans. “I haven’t thought about Stinky Marty in years.” “That asshole never showered after gym class. Not even once.” “We all paid for his mistakes.” We laugh together and for a second, it feels normal between us. The feelings we both have, complicated by time and distance and anger and resentment, seem a little less sharp. The more we talk about them, the more it feels like we’re getting it all out. And maybe that’s what she needs, to get it all out. She glances down at her phone and sighs. “Look, I have to go. I’ll think about dinner.” “I appreciate that,” I say. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” “Yeah, I’m sure you will be.” She smiles up at me as I grin at her. I want to kiss her so badly, but I know I can’t. Not yet at least. She’s still angry and still holding on to something, but she’ll let it all go eventually. She just needs to understand that I wasn’t leaving her. I never meant to leave her. I thought it would be better if I cut it off, but god, I was so stupid back then. “See you tomorrow, movie star.” She grins at me

and walks away. I watch her go, yearning to touch her skin again. Soon, I’ll taste her again, and show her what she’s been missing all these years. But for now, I’ll try and be patient, although that’s not my strong suit.

8

TARA

E

very time I’m ready to write Jackson Hendricks off, he does something that surprises me. Our little conversation from a couple of days ago keeps playing in my mind. We haven’t had time to really talk since then, but I just keep seeing the way he looked at me, like it was the old Jackson all over again. I haven’t seen him so much as talk to Holly either, which makes me think that I was just being stupid the other day. Still, I just keep thinking about how I don’t really know him. He’s been through a lot overseas, and it’s made him harder. I don’t remember him having such an edge before he left, but there are scars on his skin and inside of him that I’ll likely never

understand. And yet… that old Jackson is still there. It makes me wonder if the old Tara is still inside of me, too. I’m sitting home alone after work, tired and a little stressed, going over the script again. We’re in a critical part of the film right now, and we have to make sure we get these action scenes just right. They’re long and grueling on Jackson, I can tell, but he doesn’t complain at all. In fact, he walks around set and keeps everyone’s spirits up. He encourages the stunt guys and basically acts like a high school football quarterback in the locker room or something. Which I guess is basically what he is. My phone buzzes and I ignore it for a second, finishing up what I’m doing. When I finally pick it up, I frown at the message on my screen. “Car’s out front, come hang out.” It takes me a second to understand that it’s from Jackson. We exchanged numbers early on in this, since I’ll need to get in touch with him for work stuff. I unlock my phone and type a message back. “What are you talking about?” I send. “The crew is all hanging out, and I think you should be here.” His response comes quickly, and I bite my

lip. I don’t normally hang out with the crew. Honestly, I’m not usually invited. The script girl is considered the director’s pet, and the crew typically doesn’t mingle with that side of production. They’re afraid I’ll dime them out to Lionel or something like that, which isn’t the case at all. On past films, I just accepted that as part of the job and moved on. “I don’t know,” I type back. “I’m tired and we shoot early tomorrow.” “Come on. There really is a car out front.” I sigh and stand up, heart beating fast. I go to our front door and sure enough, there’s a black town car sitting there. “You’re crazy,” I type to him. “I can’t just walk out the door.” “Sure you can. It’s easy. Come on, Tara girl. Come have a little fun.” I stare at the text for a second. “Fuck it,” I say out loud to myself. I run into my bedroom and get ready as fast as I can. Obviously I don’t have time to go crazy with it, but I get changed into something a little more casual and I manage to fix myself up enough to be

presentable. When I’m done, I head outside and get right into the car. The driver starts going without saying a word to me. I get out my phone and send a quick message to Jackson. “I’m on the way.” “I knew you would be. Hurry up.” I smile to myself and tuck my phone back into my little clutch. I haven’t been out at a club after work since the first year I moved out here. I have butterflies in my stomach, which is totally unlike me. I’m not normally nervous for this sort of thing. But it’s Jackson. He makes me nervous, though it’s in a good way. I like being nervous around him. I like that he pushes me, makes me question the things around me. We’re not even close and yet he’s already making me feel good. The car finally pulls up outside of a club that I don’t recognize, which isn’t a surprise. I don’t really go out clubbing much. I did a little bit when I was younger, but now I’m more focused on my career and I just don’t have time anymore. My heart is beating so fast as I get out of the car. There’s a line to get in and I frown at it. There are probably fifty people waiting to get into the building, but as soon as I start to walk toward the

back, I hear someone call out my name. “Tara!” I turn and spot Jackson grinning at me from behind the red velvet rope. I walk over and the bouncer lets me past. He grins at me and kisses my cheek, sending electric thrills down my spine. “Glad you came,” he says. “Yeah, well, you said you needed my help.” He grins at me. “I definitely need you. Come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me into the club behind him. I can’t help but notice that he said he needs me, not my help. And he’s pulling me along by the hand like it’s not a weird thing to do at all. I’m getting sucked back into his world, but it’s hard not to be. Jackson is the kind of guy that can make you feel like you’re at home no matter where you are. The club itself is sleek and new. There’s a wine bar, a beer bar and a liquor bar, all broken out separately. The music pulses into my ears and I’m glad that I put on a sleek black dress instead of my normal drab work clothes. Jackson pulls me along behind him and we end up at a private booth filled with people. I recognize

them all from the set. There’s Paul the lighting guy, Jackson’s assistant Marney, Rick the gaffer, Louis the cameraman, and a few other guys. Everyone welcomes me when I arrive, and Jackson pours me a drink from their bottle service, but I can tell that everyone is a little uptight with me around. I slug back my first drink, trying to let everyone know that I’m okay and not a rat, but also trying to loosen up. “Easy there,” Jackson grins at me as I pour another. “We’re here to have some fun, right?” I ask him. “You’re not wrong.” He pours himself a drink and knocks it back. “But I’m guessing you’re not much of a drinker.” “Why would you think that?” I ask. “The face you’re making right now.” I laugh and look down. “Is it obvious?” “You clearly hate it. Like someone is stomping on your toes.” “Ugh, okay, I’m trying at least.” “I know. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.” We fall into the booth and everyone starts talking again. I sip my drink and do my best to pretend like I don’t hate the taste of vodka. Paul tells a story from his days doing lighting for erectile dysfunction commercials, which gets a big laugh from everyone. Jackson meanwhile sits close to me and laughs along with everyone else, but I keep catching the looks he’s giving me. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed like this,” he says to me. “Really?” I ask him. “Really. You were a little more, uh, casual in high school.” I laugh and bump his arm with my shoulder. “I had great fashion sense back then.” “Nah,” he says, grinning. “Not at all. But nobody did.” “That’s true. I seem to recall you wearing sweatpants to school.” “Hey,” he says, laughing. “I was an athlete.” “Sure. You were also a slob.” “Glad to see you’re all grown up at least,” he says,

eyeing my body. Normally I might feel selfconscious, but right now I don’t mind. “You’re all grown up yourself, you know,” I say, and I mean it. He looks fantastic in an expensively tailored suit, probably bespoke. It fits him like a glove, accentuating his every perfect muscle, and it makes him look fancy and in control. I hate to admit it to myself, but he looks fantastic. “Of course I look great,” he says in my ear. “Hey, let’s go dance.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? You dance?” “Of course I do,” he says, laughing. “Girl, I’ll show you just how good of a dancer a Navy SEAL can be.” I laugh as he pulls me up from the seat and tugs me out toward the dance floor. I don’t know what I’m doing but I feel so good as I follow him out there. We start to dance together, and although I feel a little self-conscious at first, at least Jackson wasn’t lying. He’s a good dancer. He moves his hips and pulls me toward him, gliding along my body, and I fall into his rhythm. Soon, we’re dancing close to each other, eyes locked as one song turns into two. We sway and move to the music, keeping pace with

everyone around us, although it feels like we’re alone in the world. “Remember this?” he says in my ear. “Sophomore year.” I can’t help but smile to myself. “We danced for hours,” I say to him. “Yeah, we did. You looked amazing. Red dress.” I laugh again, remembering that dress. I pull him closer to reach his ear. “Your suit was too big.” He grins at me. “It was my dad’s.” “Of course it was.” We laugh together, and he tips his head closer to me. He grabs my waist and pulls me against him. I can feel his hard body pressed against mine and my heart is racing through my skin, threatening to make me freaking pass out. I tip my chin up toward him, not thinking about it at all. His lips are so close to mine, and I know he’s going to kiss me. God, I haven’t tasted that kiss in so damn long. I can remember the last time, it was just like any other day. I didn’t know it was the last time back then. Sometimes I wish I had known, so that I could have savored it. Now though, I have a second chance. I can taste

him again, feel the way it used to feel. I remember kissing him was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It made me alive, made everything seem so much better. He left me, he broke my heart, but he’s here now. And I want to taste him so badly. “Hey, you!” Jackson turns away from me. Holly Hart appears next to him and they hug quickly in greeting. She waves to me and says something to him. He frowns at me and says something to her. She waves and heads off back toward the table, but the moment is gone. I don’t know what I was thinking. He turns back toward me, but I step away. “Sorry,” I say to him, shaking my head. “Tara, hold on.” But I’m already turning and walking away from him as fast as I can. I don’t want to run and I’m definitely not going to cry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t just let him back into my life like this. He broke my heart. I’m not ready to trust him, not yet. Seeing Holly just made me realize how much I still don’t know

about him. Maybe he makes me feel like my old self, but that girl is gone. I’m a different person, and so is he. I can’t just fall back into old habits. I hurry away from him, trying to keep it together.

9

JACKSON

I

could see it in her eyes: pure fucking desire.

She was sweating, working her hips, swinging her body against mine. I could see the glazed look of pure want and need, and the way she tilted her lips up toward me, fucking hell, she was begging for me to kiss her. She wanted a taste, wanted it fucking badly, and I needed it just as much. But then Holly showed up and fucking ruined everything. I tried chasing after Tara, but she disappeared. I don’t know why she ran off like that, but I know it had something to do with Holly. Or maybe she just realized how badly she wanted it to happen between us, and that freaked her out.

Today, Tara’s barely even looking at me. It’s like every step forward we make, we take two fucking steps back. I don’t get why Holly even had to seek me out. She saw that I was dancing with Tara. She knew that we had something going between us. I’m not a big fan of Holly, to be totally honest. She’s nice enough, but I wouldn’t have invited her if the crew hadn’t requested her specifically. I think they all like to stare at her tits, which I guess I can understand. Holly’s an attractive girl. She’s just not my type. She’s too high maintenance, too high strung, and a fucking actress. The first thing I learned when I came to this town was that I should never date or get involved with or even fuck a goddamn actress. Plus, she’s not Tara. I think that’s the most important thing here. Tara is my focus, the only woman I want, and Holly just pales in comparison. They can dress Holly up and put as much makeup on her as they want, but they can’t cover up her boring ass personality. Tara is just as beautiful as she is, but she’s light where Holly is just boredom. Tara makes me smile, makes me fucking feel something. Being around Tara is like coming home. I’m annoyed and trying to get the whole thing out of my head. I have a scene with Holly coming up,

so I need to be prepped for that. Just as I go to grab my script and review, there’s a knock at my trailer door. “Yeah?” I call out. The door opens. “Hey, Jackson. You busy?” It’s Holly. I almost groan out loud. I don’t want this girl in my goddamn trailer. I don’t want to give Tara the wrong idea. But we’re working together, and I can’t just send her away. I can’t risk fucking up that working relationship, since it could ruin the movie. We still have some more intimate scenes to shoot as well, and I don’t need this to be more awkward than it is. “Yeah, come in,” I say to her, hoping Tara isn’t around. Holly heads inside, shutting the door behind her. She’s wearing her costume for the upcoming scene, which is of course very low-cut to show off her tits. She smiles at me and holds up her script. “Want to run lines?” she asks. I sigh and shrug. “Sure. I’m going over them already anyway.” She walks over with a little bounce in her step and sits down on the couch. I take a seat on a chair

across from her and kick my feet out. She opens her script up and clears her throat. “Start at the second page, first line?” she asks. “Sure,” I grunt, turning to the spot. She nods and reads the script. “Do you remember the sky before they came?” “I remember,” I grunt. “Wasn’t so great.” “Not so great?” She laughs a little. “It was beautiful. Stars as far as the eye can see. But now it’s all black, nothing but black.” “It’s the dust. They’re kicking it up into the atmosphere.” “Dust and ash,” she says. “I know what it is.” Holly stands up and walks toward me. She looks up from the script. “You mind if we do this part standing? Make it feel real?” “Sure,” I grunt, getting up. She positions herself closer to me. In this scene, our characters are camping out, though there’s an ambush coming up soon. The aliens have mostly taken over the planet, and now it’s up to them to somehow turn the tide and rid the earth of the evil invaders. It’s supposed to be a slightly romantic scene, though it turns into an action sequence

pretty fast. “Come on. Lie back and think about it,” Holly says. “Guess it can’t hurt.” “What do you see?” “Lots of dead fucking clickers.” She does a decent fake laugh. “Okay, hotshot. This isn’t working.” “Sorry,” I say. “I just keep seeing them coming at us, over and over again. I keep seeing the faces of those we’ve left behind.” She quiet for a second, since the script calls for it. “Are you sure about any of this?” she asks me. “Hell no,” I say. “But because I keep seeing their faces, I know I can’t let them down. So I won’t stop.” Holly steps closer to me, and I’m not sure what she’s doing. The ambush is coming in a second, and there’s only one line left. “I wish I had your commitment,” she says, and then she tries to kiss me. It takes me completely by surprise. Her lips press

against mine, and for half a second, we’re kissing. But I pull away as soon as I realize what’s happening. This isn’t acting at all. She’s not trying to adlib something new. She’s just coming on to me. “Holly,” I say. “Sorry,” she says, turning away. “Wow, I’m really sorry. I just thought… there was a moment.” “No,” I say. “I mean, there wasn’t a moment. I can’t get involved.” She turns back to me, smiling sheepishly. “We don’t have to get involved.” I sigh. “That’s getting involved. I can’t.” “You don’t think I’m pretty?” she asks, cocking her head. I laugh and shrug. “Any guy on this set would fuck you, but not me. There’s someone else.” Her face falls. “It’s that fucking girl, isn’t it? The script girl?” I hesitate. “It’s none of your fucking business.” “I saw you two dancing. The way she was looking at you. I think she would have let you fuck her right there on the dance floor, but too bad she ran away

like a scared baby.” Anger rises through me and I step closer to her. She must see that anger in me, because she steps back. “Get the fuck out of my trailer,” I say to her. I would never hit a woman, but I can see she thinks I might. Because I’m big and I was a SEAL, people always think I’m a violent man. But I’m not. I only hurt people that really deserve it, and although Holly isn’t a nice person, she doesn’t deserve it. “Asshole,” she says, and turns away from me. I watch as she leaves the trailer quickly. I turn away once the door shuts and curse my bad fucking luck. So much for not letting things get uncomfortable between us.

10

TARA

I

watch as Jackson takes Holly in his arms and presses his lips against hers, kissing her full and deep.

There’s an edge between them today. I don’t know what it means, but it’s like something happened. It’s actually electrifying, and I think everyone on set can see it. Whatever happened is making their performance that much better. “Cut!” Lionel yells. “Yes, good, Jackson! You kiss her like you kiss your mother, yes?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised, and look around. Nobody seems shocked by that. “Uh, no,” Jackson says. “I don’t kiss my mother that way.”

Holly is studiously not looking at him as Lionel walks over. “Listen to me, Jackson. You must woo her, kiss her like she’s the only woman alive. Yes, you know what I mean by this?” “Uh, yeah,” Jackson says. He glances in my direction and I grin back at him “Come here,” Lionel says to Jackson. “Don’t be shy, boy, come here.” Jackson walks over to the odd German director. Lionel steps up to Jackson and puts his hands on Jackson’s waist. I can instantly tell that Jackson is super uncomfortable with this, but I can’t help but grin even bigger. “Like this, you see? You must caress her. Make her feel loved, like a sexual woman. You hear, yes?” “I hear you,” Jackson grunts. “You don’t need to demonstrate.” “I do need to demonstrate. What, you shy?? “Not shy,” Jackson says. “Just don’t think you’re my type. For a second, Lionel looks insulted. The whole set holds its breath, since Lionel is actually famous for flying off the handle at any small thing. I’m sure

that Jackson doesn’t know anything about Lionel’s reputation, though. If he did, he might have been a little smarter about it. But instead, Lionel starts laughing and lets him go. “Yes, well, I am not pretty woman like Holly,” Lionel says. “No, you’re not,” Jackson answers, looking relieved. “Go again! This time, kiss her better!” I watch them do the scene again, and that weirdness is still between them. This time though, it doesn’t look like there’s a strong sexual chemistry. This time, I see it for what it is. They look a little awkward. I can’t tell if it’s Holly or if it’s Jackson, but they’re clearly both trying. Even still, when he kisses her, I feel that tinge of jealousy get at me again. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, since it’s a freaking movie set, but I can’t help it. Jackson isn’t mine and probably never will be, but I still don’t like watching him kiss someone else right in front of me. Eventually they get a take that Lionel is happy with, and the day continues from there. Jackson gets all beat up and sweaty for some action sequences, and Holly disappears back into her

trailer since she’s not in these shots. Meanwhile, I get absorbed in my own work, and I slowly forget about that jealous moment I had earlier. At the end of the day, I’m in wardrobe going through the costumes for tomorrow. I need to make sure that they stay the same so that there are no continuity issues in shooting. There can’t be a single thread out of place these days, since everything is shot in such glorious high definition. “I saw you earlier.” I start and turn around. Jackson is leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “What?” I ask him. “Watching that kiss. I saw your face.” I frown at him. “I was busy laughing at Lionel trying to make sweet love to you.” He grins and walks into the room. I’m intensely aware that we’re very alone in here, but of course I’m not afraid of Jackson. I’m more nervous for what I might do. “Lionel couldn’t handle all this.” I can’t help but laugh at that. “I don’t know. I hear he’s pretty strong.”

“Maybe, but Lionel is European. He can’t take all this American power.” I grin at him and shake my head. “He’s German. They’re pretty tough people.” “Nah. Besides, Lionel isn’t my type.” “I know, you told him that. Do you know why the whole set got quiet when you said it?” He shakes his head. “I figured they just don’t have a sense of humor.” “No, they do. It’s more that Lionel is famous for his temper.” He raises an eyebrow. “Is he really? See, that’s the sort of thing I need help with.” “Consider this a free lesson then.” “Thanks,” he says, smirking. “How much do the other lessons cost? I have a lot of money now, you know.” “Oh, I heard all about it.” I look away from him and go back to what I’m doing. “You can’t afford my rate.” He laughs and leans up against the wall behind me. “So was that scene really that bad?” he asks me.

“No, at least I didn’t think so,” I say. “Maybe a little tense.” “Yeah,” he grunts, “that’s what I was afraid of.” I turn and cock my head at him. “Why would you be afraid of that?” “Never mind,” he says, smirking at me. “I’d rather talk about how jealous you were.” I pause, a little surprised. “I wasn’t jealous,” I say quickly. “Yes, you were. I saw it all over your face. You didn’t like me kissing Holly.” “It’s a movie, Jackson. It’s all fake. I’ve seen plenty of actors kiss.” “Sure, but this isn’t fake.” He pushes off the wall and steps closer to me. “Like the other night. You were going to kiss me.” “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I definitely wasn’t.” “Come on, Tara. You’re telling me that out on the dance floor, getting close and sweaty, you didn’t want to taste it one more time?” I shake my head but we both know I’m lying. My heart is hammering in my chest and he’s coming closer to me, and I’m not backing off. In fact, I turn

toward him, looking into his sultry, gorgeous eyes. There’s a slight smile on his face but the tension between us is electric and incredible. It’s nothing like what I saw out on the stage earlier today between him and Holly. “You’re jealous. Just admit it,” he says to me softly, stopping inches away. “No,” I say. “You’re delusional.” “I’m a lot of things, but delusional isn’t one of them,” he says quietly, reaching up and slowly running his hand down through my hair. He stops and grabs a fistful of it, tipping my head back. I should get the hell out of here. I know what’s coming next. I should stop him, say something, push him away. I need to remember what he did to me all those years ago. And yet… looking into his eyes right now, his hand in my hair, his body so close, that old pain is softer, almost muted. It’s like being near him sucks away the hurt that happened so long ago and makes it better again. I don’t know how, since seeing him should make it worse, but it doesn’t. Being near him feels like something I can’t describe. He leans forward, and I know I’m lost. He presses his lips against mine and kisses me deeply.

I moan softly into his lips as I kiss him back. His taste floods my mouth, so familiar. It’s insane how I remember everything about this and how nothing’s changed. As soon as he kisses me, I feel like we’re back in high school again, and it feels so damn good. That rush of good feelings tears through me as he presses his hand against my lower back and pulls me closer to him. I put my hands on his chest and lean into the kiss, letting myself enjoy it, not think about it. Slowly, the kiss ends, after what feels like forever. He releases my hair but he doesn’t release my body as he looks down at me with a smirk on his lips. “Like I said,” he whispers softly. “You want me to kiss you.” “Get out of here,” I say to him, shaking my head, but I can’t stop the smile on my face. “Does this mean that the truce is permanent?” he asks. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I say, pushing him away. He laughs and stumbles back toward the door. “Don’t be mad, Tara girl. I’m just giving you what you want.” “Asshole,” I say with a smile. “Go away and let me

do my job.” “Fine. But I’ll be thinking about that kiss.” “I bet you will.” “In my shower. Right now.” He grins and winks at me. I groan. “You’re so crude. And still making jokes like a high school boy.” “I’ll never outgrow a good jerkoff joke.” He waves and leaves the room, and I can’t help but laugh. I feel like I’m floating, but I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking. I can’t trust Jackson, not at all, and I still think there might be something between him and Holly. I don’t want to just be some idiot he uses and abuses again. I don’t want to let him back into my life just to have him destroy me all over again. I don’t think he understands what he did to me when he left. I was torn to pieces, totally devastated. I basically didn’t speak for a week, and did nothing but cry into my pillow every waking minute. The pain was something I’ve never experienced before and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it, not completely. Kissing him and letting him back into my life is just

begging for that kind of pain again. But god, it’s also begging for a pleasure I haven’t felt in so long. It was a good kiss, a damn good kiss, but I don’t know how far it can go. If I let him, he’ll take even more from me, and I’m not sure I can get any of it back again. But I want to feel that pleasure. I want to feel even more pleasure. I want him and badly, and I don’t know what to do.

11

JACKSON

I

t was exactly what I thought it would be. No, actually, it was so much fucking better.

It was like coming home. But it was like coming home to find that your house had grown up and gotten a fantastic fucking pair of tits. Okay, maybe that metaphor’s pretty fucked and mixed to hell but whatever. Kissing Tara was better than I expected, and I had some high expectations. I’ve been thinking about seeing her again and finally kissing her one more time for years. There were some dark points overseas where the thought of holding Tara in my arms one more time kept me fucking going. I thought about her over and over again, used the memories I had of the two of us to

keep me going. She’ll probably never really know how much she saved my life. There’s no way she could understand, even if I tried to explain. I’m understandably distracted an hour after I finally got to kiss the woman I’ve been dreaming about for so long when my agent calls me. “You got dinner plans,” Mickey says to me. “I do?” I ask him, just getting into my apartment. “Yeah, you fuckin’ do, so get dressed. There’s a car coming in an hour.” I smile to myself. Normally this would annoy me. I hate when Mickey forces me into these last minute fucking glad-handing networking bullshit dinners, but whatever. I’m in a good mood today. “All right,” I say to him. He pauses. “That’s it? Just all right?” “Yeah,” I say. “What, you want me to argue?” “Hell no. The producer of your film wants a meeting with you, so you better be on your best behavior.” That gets my attention. “Any specific reason?” “Not that I know of. Just go and enjoy a free meal

on their dime.” I sigh. “Fine.” “Have fun. Be charming!” He hangs the phone up before I can tell him that I’m always fucking charming. I’m still in a good damn mood as I shower up and get changed. I’m in the back of the car exactly an hour later, still smiling to myself and still reliving that kiss over and over in my mind. The car takes me up into the hills, and the houses get bigger and bigger. Eventually it stops outside this fucking huge mansion, which I assume is the producer’s place. I don’t know much about him, although I know he’s filthy rich and named Harold. I’m sure I was told more, but I don’t really pay attention sometimes when Mickey goes on and on about the important people. I ring the bell and a man wearing a waiter’s outfit opens the door. He leads me in through this huge entrance hall, complete with a chandelier that probably costs as much as my car, and out through the back. The porch is large and mostly open, with a beautiful view of a deep, gorgeous in-ground pool and the sprawling LA cityscape spread out below. The sun

is setting slowly as I step over toward the table and size up what I’m dealing with. Sitting at the head of the table is Harold. I vaguely recognize him from the first table reading. He stands up and grins at me. He’s balding, with a hawkish nose and deep-seated blue eyes. He’s shorter than I am, though most people are. Next to him is a guy I don’t know. He’s shorter than Harold, with thick dark hair and a dour expression on his face. And sitting across from him is Holly Hart. “Jackson!” Harold says, coming over to me. “Great of you to come, I’m really glad.” “Yeah, of course,” I say, shaking his hand. “This is Franklin, an executive from the studio.” The other guy nods at me and I nod back. “And of course, you know Holly.” “Evening, stranger,” Holly says, smiling at me. I smile back. “Evening, lady.” “Come on, sit down. Food’s ready if you’re hungry.” I take my seat at the other end of the table and a waiter appears with a tray of food. I take a little

surf and turf type deal, with a lobster tail and a nice cut of steak. He also hands me a glass of whisky. Obviously they did their homework about me. “You know, Jackson, the studio thinks this movie could be huge,” the executive says as I dig into my steak. I’m fucking starving. “I bet,” I say to him. “We’re killing it. All thanks to Holly.” “No, we hear it’s all thanks to you,” Harold says quickly. I glance over at Holly and she frowns but says nothing. “Really, Jackson, I saw a daily. Those action scenes? How do you do it?” Harold asks. “I just picture the Taliban and go from there.” I grin at him a little bit. SEAL shit like that usually goes over well. Both men laugh and Holly just gives me a polite smile. She’s not buying my bullshit, which is fine by me. “Seriously, it’s all the training and the stunt guys. I just do what I’m told,” I continue, sipping my drink. “Well, whatever it is, keep doing it,” Harold says.

The others start eating and I notice that Holly looks a little nervous. I don’t know why, but she’s not looking at me. Things have been weird since I rejected her, but I don’t think that’s the reason. “Tell me, Jackson, how’s that director working out?” Franklin the studio guy asks me. I shrug a little bit. “He’s fine. A little weird. But he knows what he’s doing.” “We’ve heard stories,” Franklin says. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with him?” I narrow my eye in his direction. “Would it matter if I’m not?” “Of course it would,” Harold says, cutting in. “We want you to be happy.” I look at them a little and shrug. “He’s good. I’m comfortable.” They nod and smile at me, but I’m feeling a little weird. Actually, this whole thing is strange. Why is Holly here, and why would both of these guys need to be at this one dinner? These are two powerful guys, they don’t take meetings like this for no reason. I finish off my steak and sip my drink as conversation turns to trivial things. Holly is quiet so

Harold does most of the talking. When everyone is finished and leaning back in their chairs, I notice Franklin giving Harold a little look, and I don’t like it one fucking bit. “So boys,” I say to the two men. “I have to ask this. Why are you two sitting down with both me and Holly right now?” Harold smiles a little at that. “You don’t like to play games, huh?” he asks me. “Not really,” I admit. “I’m just wondering why the producer and a studio executive would want to have this little meeting.” The two men share a smile and Harold sighs. “Okay, so you see through it. This isn’t some social call.” Holly turns ghostly white. I try and ignore that. She’s been in this business longer than I have, and I can only imagine what she’s thinking right now. Maybe we’re about to get fired or something. “Here’s the thing,” Harold continues. “Like I said, we all think this movie can be big… and we think it can benefit from some publicity.” “You see,” Franklin cuts in, “your relationship with Holly here is an integral part of the film, right?”

I hesitate a second. “You mean the relationship our characters have,” I say to him. “Not exactly,” Harold says. “I mean literally, your relationship with Holly.” I glance at her and she looks back. She smiles a little sheepishly, but the color’s returning to her cheeks. “Spell it out for me,” I say to Harold. “We want you and Holly to date,” he says simply. I stare at him for a second and then start laughing. I can’t help myself, it’s just such an absurd thing to say. Holly looks a little insulted. “What’s wrong with dating me?” she asks me. “Nothing, nothing at all,” I say, grinning my face off. “It’s just, goddamn, are you really asking me to date her for the sake of the movie?” Harold smiles a little and exchanges another look with Franklin. “This isn’t unheard of,” he says to me. “Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise did it for years. Brad and Angelina. Jay Z and Beyoncé.” “Wait, hold up,” I say, shocked. “You mean Jay Z and Beyoncé aren’t really in love?” Harold laughs and gestures at me. “This is

Hollywood, Jackson. Nothing is real here, not even the music people.” I’m fucking appalled. I feel like my whole world is collapsing. If Jay Z and Beyoncé aren’t really in love, then nothing is true. I don’t know if I can even believe in real love anymore. “It won’t be so bad,” Holly says. “My last boyfriend was fake.” “It’s a tried and true promotional thing,” Franklin adds. “People love seeing movies where the leads are together in real life.” “It’ll supercharge the box office,” Harold says. “You two date, do the press tour together, and when the movie comes out on DVD, you break up.” “Which’ll drive DVD sales,” Vincent chimes in. “Fucking hell, you guys have it all planned out,” I say, shaking my head and smiling. Harold smiles at me, leaning toward me over the table. “Look, Jackson, I know you’re new at this, but trust me. This is a regular part of it. Your relationship with Holly won’t be real.” I glance at her again and she shrugs a little at me. “Like I said, I’ve done it before. So I wouldn’t mind giving it another shot.”

I sigh and sip my drink, stalling for time. They’re all looking at me, waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to say. “I’m not interested,” I say finally. Vincent and Harold exchange another look. “I think that’s a mistake,” Harold says. “Why?” I ask him. “Going to replace me, reshoot everything I already did? Truth is, guys, I hate this Hollywood shit. I’m not selling myself that much.” I push back from the table and stand. Harold stands with me and walks by my side as I head back through the house. “Okay, Jackson, listen, just think about it,” he says to me. “Understand? Just think about it.” “Nothing to think about,” I say to him as I reach the front door. “But if you’ve got something real for me, come and find me.” He smiles at me. “I gotta say, I respect you for standing up like this, but it’s a mistake.” “Maybe,” I say with a little shrug. “We’ll see.” I push out the door and head back down the driveway toward the car that’s still waiting for me. I can’t do this fake relationship shit, not when Tara

is already jealous of Holly. It’ll wreck her and wreck what he have. We just kissed and she’s finally starting to open up to me a little bit. If I do this fake relationship, it’ll destroy her. I won’t do that to her again. I can’t do it. Even though they’re making it sound like a totally normal thing, it’s fucking not. I won’t get sucked into the Hollywood way of thinking and looking at things, not if I can help it. I’m above that, or at least I want to be. I need to do better, for her sake as well as for my own.

12

TARA

I

feel like I’m back in high school again.

When we were younger, we mostly keep our relationship to ourselves. Everyone knew we were together, of course, but we weren’t hanging off each other in the hallways like a lot of the other couples. I liked that about him. He wasn’t exactly reserved, but he was serious. I felt like making out with him in the hall would somehow disrespect what we had, like our relationship was real compared to all the other fake ones around us. It made it feel special again. I feel that way now. It’s so stupid and insane, since I’m an adult now and we are definitely not in a relationship, but I can’t help but look at him and

feel that, even if it’s just a shade of that teenagebrain-induced love madness. I can’t lie and pretend like I don’t enjoy it. I like that we kissed yesterday, and I like that nobody knows about it. He hasn’t come up to me yet today, although he did smile when he came onto set. Mostly he’s working through the action sequences set up for today, and I’m doing my job as well, but I keep stealing glances at him. I keep thinking about that kiss, the way it felt, and I keep feeling like a schoolgirl again. I feel silly. I feel good. It’s a particular feeling, something I can’t really explain. Maybe it’s falling in love again. Or maybe it’s waking up only to realize that you’ve always been in love, and it hasn’t gone away. Not that I’m actually in love with him right now. God, that would be so stupid. No, that’s just the closest I can come to explaining this feeling. When you’re a kid, everything is so much more intense. The chemicals in your brain are going nuts, and you’re basically drunk with hormones all the time. Plus, everything is new, especially when you’re a teenager. I was just discovering my body back then, and Jackson was slowly helping me do it. Maybe we didn’t have sex, but we did other stuff, and we were going to do it sooner or later.

But back then, even a simple kiss took me places I don’t think I’ve been ever since. I always assumed those feelings were gone forever. I never knew I felt those things, not because of my crazy teen brain, but because of Jackson. I felt it all over when he kissed me. It was like a whole body high. It was so intense that I could barely breathe afterward. I had to hustle him out of there, or else I was going to do something really stupid, like throw myself at him. Maybe it’s impossible to explain. But in short, I feel like a kid again, and it feels so good. When we break for lunch, Jackson is nowhere to be found, but I don’t think anything of it. I figure he’s just busy running lines or something for our upcoming shots. He has some line-heavy scenes, and I know actors worry about remembering everything. When we get back to shooting, something’s weird. He’s not looking at me, not even coming close to looking at me. When I have to feed him a line, he doesn’t meet my eye, just accepts it and moves on. He doesn’t smile at me, doesn’t even act like he knows me. It’s like an entirely new person is out there now, and I have no clue what changed.

I’m the type of person to get paralyzed in analysis, but I’m going to resist that. I won’t dig too deeply into this. He might just be concentrating on his job, or maybe he’s just in a bad mood or something. I can’t worry about Jackson like this, I just have to do my job and keep moving forward. The day goes on and finally we wrap shooting. As I clean up the script and go over the day with Lionel, Jackson disappears back into his trailer. Normally he stands around and chats with the crew, but today he just ran off like something is up. I get finished with Lionel, and as I’m walking back toward my locker, I run into Paul the lighting guy. “How you doin’, script girl?” he asks me. “Pretty good,” I say. The crew’s been nicer to me ever since I went out with them, although I did run away pretty fast. I think Jackson talked me up or something. “You hear the gossip?” he asks me, grinning. “I don’t think so,” I say. “Lay it on me.” “Apparently, Jackson was yelling in his trailer earlier at lunch. And now there are rumors about him and Holly.” I raise an eyebrow and my heart starts to beat faster. “Holly?” I ask, not wanting to know.

“I think they’re together. Dunno what it means that he was yelling at someone, maybe trouble in paradise.” I take a deep breath. “Sounds like the usual set crap,” I say to him, trying to smile. He laughs. “Yeah, can’t get away from it with these movie stars. Always got to be dramatic.” “You’re not wrong about that,” I say. “Well, you have a good night, script girl. Good work today.” “You too, Paul.” I nod to him and hurry off, heart racing. What the hell was he talking about, Holly and Jackson? And why was he yelling in his trailer? I put my things away, locking up the master script in my locker. I don’t know what the heck is going on, but I can’t help but think about the way he was reacting earlier. Maybe something really is wrong, and he’s fighting with Holly about something. I know the studios are always pushing these actors together, but I thought Jackson was above all that stuff. I head home, trying not to obsess too much, but that’s in my personality. I get back to my little

bungalow apartment and head inside to find Laney sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. “’Sup girl,” she says as I walk in, a mouth full of cereal. “Did you move yet today?” She shrugs. “I went to the kitchen.” “And did you write?” “What are you, my agent?” “No,” I say, flopping down on the chair next to her. “But you gotta sell some movies so I can work on them.” “Working on it,” she says, taking a big mouthful of chocolate sugar. “This stuff is so good.” “It’s just sugar, you know.” “Oh, I know.” She grins at me. “I work from home, so who am I impressing?” I sigh. “Your pancreas?” “She’s good. Very strong.” She pats her stomach. “Your pancreas is a girl?” “Of course,” Laney says. “Every organ I have is a girl, but if I were a guy, they’d all be a dude.”

“Makes sense,” I say, nodding at her simple logic. Laney flips the television channel and lands on one of those gossip shows. It’s a new episode, because they’re talking about some really recent drama. I’m only half paying attention as I scroll through Facebook on my phone when I suddenly hear Jackson’s name. “That’s right,” the presenter, a chic and thinlooking brunette woman with an Italian name, “the new hunky action star Jackson Hendricks is confirmed to be dating his dreamy co-star, Holly Hart. We don’t know when this little on-set fling began, but apparently it’s hot and heavy already.” I stare at the TV as they transition into another short bit of news about some teen actor I’ve never heard of. I keep staring at the TV, totally blown away. “Hey, Tara, you okay?” I blink and look over at Laney. “Yes,” I say softly. “You look like you just saw a ghost. Seriously, you okay? Is it the Hendricks thing we just saw?” I stare at her and I want to tell her everything, but I can’t, not now. Especially not now. “I’m just an idiot,” I say, and get up off my chair. I

quickly walk out of the room, ignoring Laney’s protests, and shut my bedroom door quietly behind me. I lock it and sit down on my bed, head in my hands. I feel so stupid. I feel like a total idiot. I let myself get my hopes up again, and now he’s destroying them. Jackson will break me, every single time, and I can’t ever let him get close to me. I opened myself again, imagined what it could be like, and here I am, broken all over. I feel that hollow pit in my stomach that lingered for years after Jackson left me starting to open up, threatening to swallow me whole.

13

JACKSON

I

don’t think I’ve ever yelled at a grown ass man the way I yelled at Mickey Rains.

I thought I was clear. I told Harold and Franklin that I’m not doing the whole fake relationship thing, and I assumed that was the end of it. I went back to the set the next day, and things seemed totally fine. At least until I got a call from Mickey, explaining that the relationship story was about to drop. I fucking lost it. I’ve never felt so goddamn betrayed in my entire life, and the worst part is, if I don’t play ball then they’ll replace me. Despite the fact that I’m headlining this film and have a bunch of scenes fucking shot already, they’ll cut me right

out and replace me with some other fucking action asshole. “That’s the business,” Mickey said to me. “I saved your career.” “Fuck the business,” was my reply, but it didn’t matter. It was done. I couldn’t change it. Now I’m in a fucked-up position. On the one hand, I don’t give a shit about this movie. I’d gladly walk away and never look back. I hate letting these assholes push me around, especially when it’s a bunch of Hollywood douchebags. Maybe I’d be torching my acting career, but I’ve already made so much fucking money, I can easily find a new line of work to support myself and be very comfortable. It’s not about the work at all. I’d burn it all down for my own sense of honor any fucking day. The real problem is, if I walk away then I may never see Tara again. She’ll disappear on me. Sure, she wants me, and we shared that insanely good kiss. But that doesn’t mean I’m forgiven for fucking up all those years ago. If I leave this movie, I don’t know what she’ll think, and I’m afraid I won’t get another chance to try and make this shit right.

But if I go through with this fake relationship, I don’t know how she’ll feel. Then again, she’s in the business. She knows how these things go. I bet she’ll understand that this whole relationship is a fucking load of shit, and she’ll see through it. Or maybe she won’t, since I do think she has some jealousy toward Holly. Goddamnit, there’s no good answer to this situation. And so I find myself sitting across a table from Holly at a nice restaurant, pretending to be on a date. I don’t know why I agreed to this. The cameras went fucking crazy when we got out of the car together and walked inside. Fortunately they’re leaving us alone, but people keep glancing in our direction. At least I have some nice, strong whisky to help me through it. Mickey told me I’d be fucked if I didn’t go through with this. I have to make it look like I’m dating Holly, which means we have to be seen together. This is so painfully staged, but it doesn’t seem to matter to anyone. For my part, I don’t want Tara to think I’m some fuckup still for losing this job. “Just smile and pretend like we’re having a good time,” Holly says to me. She reaches across the

table and puts her hand on top of mine. I pull my hand away. “I’m having a great time,” I say. “Aren’t you?” “Of course.” Her smile is plastered on and I feel like she might pass out. “You’re utterly charming, you know that, Jackson?” “Of course,” I grumble at her. The waiter comes over with our food. Holly got a salad, which she barely picks at. I got a big ass steak, which I dig into without hesitation. Holly makes a face at me. “You know everyone’s watching us, right?” “Yep,” I say through a mouthful of steak. “Might as well enjoy it, since the studio’s paying.” She makes a face. “You’re so gross, Jackson. You don’t care that all these people are watching you tear through that steak like it’s your last meal on this planet?” “Nope,” I say, and pop a big, juicy slice between my lips. She sighs and shakes her head like I just said something funny. I grin at her and chew obnoxiously.

“You don’t have to be an ass,” she says to me. “We’re in this together, you know. You think I want to be doing this?” “You didn’t seem to mind at that dinner,” I say to her. “And you didn’t seem to mind the other afternoon.” A flash of anger crosses her face, but she covers it up quickly. “That was a mistake,” she says to me. “And I do what’s best for my career.” “Yeah, I bet you do, sweetheart,” I say to her. “Don’t you hate all this?” “What, glamour and excitement? No, I don’t hate it at all.” I laugh a little. “This is glamour? I don’t see it.” “Of course not. But to me, this is the dream. People actually want to see me, Jackson. They’re paying attention to me. I’m some nobody girl from a nowhere town and now photographers want to sell pictures of me eating a salad with some muscleheaded jackass.” “Sounds amazing,” I say, laying on the sarcasm. “Don’t patronize me,” she says, still smiling. She’s actually a good actress, I decide. “You think this is all stupid, I get that. But it’s important to me.”

“It’s fake,” I say. “I saw real shit out there. You wouldn’t know the half of it.” “I don’t care about your stupid military career,” she says. “God, all you military guys are the same. Like anyone gives a shit.” That pisses me off, and I’m quiet for a second. Holly is a vapid, idiot girl, and I can’t let her get under my skin. She nibbles on a lettuce leaf while I take another big bite of steak. I wash it down with the rest of the whisky and motion for another one. It arrives right away, like they were fucking waiting for me to finish my first one. I can’t complain. It’s good food and good drinks, at least, and it’s free. Still, there’s something off about Holly, and I can’t put my finger on it. “Why did you pussy out the other day with me?” she asks suddenly. “Pussy out?” I grunt at her. “Not exactly.” “You threw me out when all I wanted was to fuck a little bit. You not into girls or something?” What a fucking shrew. “You ever stop to think that maybe I’m interested in somebody else?” That seems to genuinely surprise her. “You got a girlfriend?”

“No,” I say. “But there’s someone… important to me. And I don’t want to hurt her.” “Oh, shit,” she says, smiling larger at me. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love with somebody else. That’s why you wouldn’t fuck me. That’s why you don’t want to do this fake relationship.” I stare at her for a second, not sure what to say. I buy time by taking a big sip of whisky. She’s right of course, and maybe it would be easier if I just came clean. Holly seems a little nuts and intense, and I don’t like her view of the military, but maybe she’s not a horrible person. Maybe I can even trust her, at least just a little bit. “You’re right,” I say to her, not wanting to elaborate. She laughs and shakes her head, clearly amazed. “A fucking movie star, in love with someone? I think I’ve seen everything now.” “I’m not a movie star,” I say to her. “You are. Come on, Jackson. I’ve heard things. I know you sleep around.” “Maybe I did, but I don’t anymore,” I say. “Maybe I’m trying to be better.” That just makes her laugh even more, which pisses

me off. I’m getting sick of this fake date, and free food isn’t making up for it. Holly really does seem like a fucking asshole, and I already regret telling her the truth. “Listen, you’ll find this out pretty fast. Relationships don’t work out here. It’s just not that kind of place.” “I don’t care about Hollywood,” I say to her. She sighs and sips her wine. “Whatever, I get it. You have some farm girl you’re pining for back home. But here’s the truth: you’re stuck with me, and you better not fuck it up.” I stare at her and she just smiles. “Here’s to our relationship,” she says, raising her glass. I toast her and sip my whisky, watching as she slowly finishes her salad. Holly is going to be dangerous. I can see that now. I assumed she was just some Hollywood bimbo with nice tits, but I think she’s a lot more than that. She seems smarter than I realized, and she clearly doesn’t give a shit about what I want at all. The only thing Holly cares about is whatever she can do to get ahead. Which means she’ll be the first person to fuck me over if the opportunity arises. She knows I’m in

love with someone now, but she doesn’t realize who yet. She saw me dancing with Tara the other night, and she should have put it together right there on the spot. But clearly she’s too shallow and self-centered to notice something like that. She probably only notices it when guys are looking at her. The dinner mercifully comes to an end. Since the studio is getting the check, we simply get up and leave. I help Holly into her light jacket, although it’s fucking nice outside this time of year. When we get onto the sidewalk, the paparazzi descend like fucking vultures, snapping pictures and yelling in our faces. “Kiss for us!” one of them yells, and the rest of the guys take up the call. Holly turns to me, a grin on her face. My heart starts hammering and I realize that I’m supposed to actually go through with this. But before I can, I picture what Tara would think if she saw that. This fake fucking relationship is bad enough as it is, and it’s going to take some explaining. But if she saw me actually kissing Holly, I don’t think she’d forgive me, and I can totally understand that. Plus, she revolts me. Everything about Holly’s self-

centered personality turns me off. She’s emblematic of the whole culture out here, and it’s a culture that I don’t love at all. Sure, making movies and acting is a fun way to make a living, but some of the people in this business are downright horrifying. Holly is pretty much average in that regard. So instead of kissing her, I put on my best winning smile and turn to the cameras. “Sorry, boys,” I say. “You’ll have to watch the movie if you want to see that.” Some of the guys laugh and I take Holly’s hand. I press through the mass of cameras until we finally get inside of the car that brought us here. Once settled, Holly turns to me. “You should have fucking kissed me,” she says. “What’s the difference? We’ve kissed plenty.” “That was for work.” “This is too,” she snaps. “Just man up and kiss me.” I stare at her for a second before leaning in toward her. “Get something straight. I don’t give a fuck about you or about this movie. I’m doing this for my own reasons. Don’t fucking push me.” She looks surprised and for the first time since I’ve met her, she doesn’t have something to say. I lean back and look out the window, annoyed at this

whole fucking situation. But at least I didn’t kiss her. That would have been easier than standing up for myself, but I’m not a total fucking pushover. I want to get what I want, and I have to play the game a little bit. I just hope I can make Tara see the truth.

14

TARA

T

he next morning, I wake up and I feel like the whole Jackson thing was

a dream.

I get up, brush my teeth, and get ready for work. When I go out into the kitchen for a quick breakfast, I find Laney still sitting on the couch. I poke my head into the living room. “Up early or late?” I ask her. She turns back to me and gives me a bleary smile. “Can we say both?” she asks. “Get some sleep,” I say, and head back into the kitchen. I pour myself some coffee and lean up against the counter as I sip it. I don’t know why I got so upset last night. These

gossip shows are always making stuff up and are wrong more often than not. Jackson and Holly might just be friends from set and nothing more. But still, something’s nagging at me. Jackson’s being pretty clear about what he wants from me, and it’s obvious that he’s interested in pursuing me. I don’t know how I feel about that, since there are so many complicated feelings behind all of this. I’m completely torn about it. On the one hand, it’s Jackson, he’s always been the one that got away. But on the other, I was wrecked the last time I let myself get close to him, and I don’t know if I can handle that again. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. It seems totally bizarre that he’d try so hard to get back in my good graces, and then go ahead and date Holly Hart. I know he’s gotten something of a reputation since he became a star, but I can’t fault him for that. And most of the time, those reputations are bullshit. It’s too much for me to deal with right now. I’m just going to go to work, do my job, and hope everything works out. I grab a yogurt, deciding I’ll eat on set, and pour my coffee into an insulated mug before heading back out into the living room. “Seriously, Laney,” I say to her. “You gotta shower and sleep today.”

She doesn’t even look at me. “Check it,” she says, pointing. I look down at the screen, and there’s Jackson and Holly. I’m taken totally by surprise, although I shouldn’t be. They’re eating together, laughing together, and he’s even pulling her along by the hand. They don’t kiss, but still, that looks pretty intimate “Guess it’s true,” Laney says. She looks up at me. “I don’t know why I watch this crap.” I stare at the television, and I can feel myself starting to spiral again. “What’s with you?” Laney asks me. “Every time this guy is mentioned on TV, you freak out. Something happen on set?” I look slowly at her and shake my head. She has no clue and how could I even explain it to her? Oh Laney, this new action star was actually my boyfriend in high school, he broke my heart back then, really fucked me up, and now he’s back and trying to rekindle something between us, but suddenly now he’s dating his costar, and apparently I’m a mess over it. Okay, so maybe it’s not all that complicated to say, but there’s so much there to unpack, and I just can’t bring myself to do it.

I have a choice to make. I can fall apart like I did last night, or I can stand up and shake it off and go to work. I can be a moody teenager again with a broken heart, or I can suck it up and get moving. So I take a deep breath, smile at Laney, and head to the door. “I’m fine,” I say to her. “I’ll see you later, okay? Sleep today, please.” “Yeah, sure,” she says. “Later.” I give her a smile and quickly leave, although I don’t feel anything like smiling. I’m not letting Jackson’s freaking games get me down. I’m going to work and I’m going to do my job. I don’t want to see or talk to him beyond what I have to, and that’ll be that. He can date his little movie starlet, and I’ll have my old life back. It can be like he never came home at all.

THE

DAY GOES

about how you’d expect.

Jackson tried to talk to me a couple times, but I blew him off. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I knew I couldn’t talk to him without crying or getting pissed off. I just wasn’t going to be rational. I’m strong, but I’m not invincible.

So I did what any self-respecting grown ass woman would do in my situation: I ran the hell away anytime he came near. Of course, I did my job. I can’t just blow that off because I’m mad at him. I still spoke to him when I had to and I kept things professional. But as soon as it seemed like things were about to get personal, I walked the hell away from there as fast as I could without making a scene. And so I got through the day. Holly and Jackson barely spoke to each other all afternoon, but the rumor mill was going overtime. People were talking like crazy about the two of them, which is pretty much standard on a set. There’s nothing private when you’re working this closely with people all day long for months at a time. I just tried not to pay attention. Whenever Jackson and Holly came up, I’d just leave the conversation. And so I got through the day, which I’m actually pretty proud of. I put on my big girl pants and I sucked it up and I got through it. I’m not dead, it wasn’t the worst experience in the world, and now I’m standing in the studio parking lot willing myself not to break down. Instead of crying like a total dweeb, I call up Laney. She answers on the second ring.

“Morning,” she says, sounding grumpy. “You slept until now?” I ask her. “Pretty much.” I laugh and shake my head. “Come on. Come out with me. I need a drink.” “You need a drink? I need coffee. This is my morning.” “Well, make it an Irish coffee, then. Come on, I’ll tell you why I’ve been weird.” She hesitates. “You sure you want to do that?” “No,” I admit. “But I will anyway.” “Okay,” she says. “Lambert’s?” “Meet me there in fifteen.” “Later, gator.” She hangs up the phone and I get into my car. Fifteen minutes later, I’m rolling into Lambert’s front door. It’s an old bar where a ton of Hollywood writers like to go and meet up with their peers. I come here sometimes with Laney, and it’s not exactly my favorite place, but at least it’s quiet and clean and the drinks aren’t too expensive. The people can be pretentious, but that’s fine, at least

they mostly mean well. Laney is already sitting at the corner of the bar, which astonishes me. She looks fabulous, fully dressed with her makeup done, and I have no clue how she does it. I sit down next to her, shaking my head. “Weren’t you asleep like twenty minutes ago?” She shrugs and sips her martini. “I clean up well.” “Obviously.” The bartender comes over and I order a gin and tonic. When my drink comes, I take a big sip to prepare myself. “So,” Laney says, looking at me. “I left the house and now I’m drinking a martini for breakfast. I believe you owe me a story.” I sigh. “This isn’t breakfast.” “It is for me.” She leans closer to me. “Spill.” “When I was a kid, Jackson used to live in my town,” I say simply. “Jackson Hendricks?” “Yep, him.” “The guy you’re working with? The movie star?” “Yes,” I say, smiling.

“The hunk? The Adonis?” “He’s not that handsome…” I say, although I’m lying. “You’re lying,” she says. “I mean, sure, he’s huge. But he owns it.” “Okay, yeah, he’s a specimen.” I hate saying it out loud, but it’s true. “Fine, so you knew him growing up. So what?” “Well…” I say, looking at my drink. “We sort of dated. For a while.” “What?” she asks, surprised. “You freaking dated him?” “For years,” I admit. “And he broke my heart.” She stares at me, her mouth hanging open. “Shut the fuck up,” she says. “Laney,” I say, laughing. “It’s true.” “And now you’re working with him? And seeing all this shit on TV?” She leans back, shaking her head. “This is crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “It was so long ago. We were in high school. I guess I feel stupid.” “Don’t feel stupid. My god, this is insane.” She sips

her drink, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I let this happen.” “How could you have stopped it?” “I do have some say in casting, you know. If I made a stink…” She shrugs a little. “Maybe it could have helped.” “It’s not a big deal,” I say to her. “It just messed me up a lot back then. But I’m fine now.” “This explains so much,” she says, eyes wide. “It’s why you barely date. And why you’re so emotionally unavailable.” “I’m not emotionally defensively.

unavailable,”

I

say

“Sure you are. And it’s all because the love of your life broke your heart when you were young.” “It’s not like that,” I say, but I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it’s like. “Listen, Tara, we’ll get through this.” She leans toward me, looking serious. “Now, I have an important question to ask.” “Go ahead,” I say, afraid of what it might be. “Can I write a script about this?”

I sigh and smile. “Sure, whatever.” “You’re a princess.” She picks up my hand and kisses it. “I don’t know why that idiot would break your heart.” “Yeah, me neither,” I say and finish my drink. “You have to tell me more. What was he like back then?” So I take a deep breath and I fill her in on the details. I talk about his difficult family, and how he would always come spend time with me to get away from them. I tell her about falling in love with each other, sitting down on the dock and putting our feet in the lake, leaning up against his huge body, kissing his soft lips. I talk about how popular and handsome he was, how he had the whole world in front of him, but his abusive father was constantly pushing him. And I talk about how one day, he disappeared. He joined the military and I never heard from him again. He just ghosted on me, no goodbyes, no nothing. We never really broke up, he just went away and stopped talking to me. That was so much worse than actually breaking up. One second he was there, my whole world, and the next he was gone.

I don’t tell her about kissing him. I don’t tell her about what’s going on right now between us, because it’s just too fresh. I don’t want to talk about that. When I finish, I order another drink, and Laney thoughtfully watches me. “I can see why this might be weird for you,” she says finally. “Weird is putting it mildly.” “Why did he leave?” she asks. “That’s what I don’t get. Why didn’t he tell you?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “There are things I’ve always wondered. I know his mom died like a year after he left, but I was too mad at him back then to say anything about it.” “What did she die of?” Laney asks. “Cancer, I think.” She nods and sips her drink. “Well, kid, that’s one crazy fucked-up story. And now he’s back. You’re handling it pretty well.” “No, I’m really not,” I admit. “I’m barely keeping my shit together.” “I wouldn’t even be able to do that much, so good for you.” She sighs and looks over my shoulder. “Ah, crap. Don’t look.”

“What?” “Some guy is coming right for you. Should I get rid of him?” I turn around and spot one of the actors from the film coming toward me. His name is Jared and he plays a minor character with like four lines or something like that. I can’t remember his last name. “Hey, Tara,” he says. “Sorry to interrupt, just stopping by to say what’s up.” “Hey, Jared,” I say to him. “Good job in your scene today.” “Man, thanks. It was nerve-wracking, you know?” “Why?” I ask him. “You’re a natural.” “I mean, I’m working with Jackson Hendricks. And there was so much drama on the set today.” I frown a little and glance at Laney. “What kind of drama?” I ask him. “Oh you know, about him and Holly Hart. Everyone keeps saying that their relationship is fake or something.” I raise an eyebrow at that. “Wait, what? I didn’t hear that.”

“Seriously? It’s all people were talking about.” That makes sense. Every time Jackson came up, I ran away. No wonder I didn’t hear it. “He was in a shit mood all day too,” he says to me. “Not sure why, but man, that guy is scary. He’s a real SEAL, did you know that?” “Yeah, I heard,” I say, a little distracted. Jared smile and shrugs. “Anyway, take it easy. Gotta go rejoin my friends.” “Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.” “Later.” He grins at Laney and walks away. “Not bad,” Laney says. “I’d hit it.” I turn back to her. “What?” “I mean, that guy. He’s not bad.” “Oh,” I say, shaking my head. “Sorry.” “You okay?” she asks. “That was some weird stuff to hear right after that conversation.” “I know. It’s bizarre. I think I’m okay, I just…” I trail off, looking down at the bar. “Come on,” she says, getting out her cash and tossing it down. “Let’s go home. I’ll make you

some dinner and we can watch Ghostbusters.” I look up at her and take a deep breath. “Yeah, that sounds good.” “Come on.” She gets up and I follow her out the door. It’s been a weird day today, and that’s about the weirdest thing to happen. Jared’s timing was perfect, but even bigger than that is that possibility that Jackson isn’t really dating Holly at all. I mean, I know that fake romances happen all the time, I just didn’t think Jackson would do it. It’s possible, though… and could explain things. But still, I don’t want to get my hopes up. The last time I did that, Jackson destroyed me. I need to guard myself. But there’s a chance. And that chance might terrify me more than I realized it could.

15

JACKSON

E

veryone on set is whispering about this fake fucking relationship and I’m goddamn sick of it. Everyone except Tara. Yesterday she barely spoke to me, let alone looked at me. Everything was professional with her, and she walked away as fast as she could as soon as I got near outside of a work context. She didn’t give me a chance to explain the shit with Holly, and now the whole crew is talking about it. I can’t stand people being in my fucking business, although I know that’s what Hollywood is. Everyone knows everything, and that’s sort of the point. You let people into your fucking world in exchange for fame and money.

I don’t fucking like it. I’m the kind of man that keeps things simple and straightforward, and all this fake relationship crap isn’t for me. I take what I want, and I don’t question anything else. Today I’m not playing any games. I come in to work on time, I get ready for my scenes, and I do them to the best of my abilities. I work with Tara but I don’t push her, and I just ignore all the gossip and the shit with the crew that’s happening all around me. And at the end of the day, I decide to be myself. I find Tara alone on set, still going over some footage. She works long hours and probably has the most demanding job on the entire set. I don’t envy her at all, but I am damn impressed by her. I know she doesn’t want to talk to me, but I don’t care anymore. “You can take a break sometime, you know,” I say to her. She turns and looks at me. “Just finishing up,” she says, and goes back to looking at the monitor. I wait patiently, not giving in. I know she wants me to just walk away, but I’m not going to. Finally she finishes, marks off her script, and turns back to me. “I’m busy,” she says, and starts walking.

“It’s not real, you know,” I say to her. She stops in front of me and half turns. “What isn’t?” “This shit with Holly. I told them I wouldn’t do it, but my fucking agent practically blackmailed me into it.” “I heard that might be the case,” she says carefully. “Forget the fucking gossip. Me and Holly, we’re not really a thing. If I want to keep this movie, I have to pretend to be dating her, but I’m not. I don’t want her, not even a little bit.” I stare at Tara, and I hope she understands. “So why are you telling me this?” she asks me. “You know why,” I say to her. “You can keep pretending, but I’m sick of pretending. I do enough of that around here.” “Pretending about what?” I grab her wrist and pull her against me. She stumbles and lands against my chest and I pull her close, feeling her body against mine. She tips her head back and looks up at me, lips parted and eyes wide. I kiss her hard, deep and full.

She returns my kiss without hesitation, and I know I’m done with waiting, I’m done with the games. I don’t know what’s going to happen beyond this moment, but I do know that I have this, right here, whatever it is. And I’m taking it. I press her back, pushing her into the table she was just working on top of. I lift her up, putting her ass on top of the smooth wood finish, and she wraps her legs around my waist as I kiss her deeply. The crew has mostly gone home for the night, but we’re still in public. I kiss her like that for a second longer before pulling her back down off the table and dragging her along behind me. “Jackson,” she says, but I don’t answer. I pull her deeper into the set, behind a bunch of fake walls, back into the dark nooks and crannies, away from sight. There’s a red light high above us, illuminating the space as I turn to her and pull her up against me again. “If someone catches us,” she whispers, trailing off. “I’ll take care of that,” I say, smirking. “You’ll just have to be quiet.” I kiss her again, loving her fucking taste, and I’m not so sure she can be silent during this. I push her

back up against the wall, the plaster making a slight thump as her ass hits up against it. I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. She raises her arms, letting the shirt pull over her skin. I watch her hair cascade down her body, and I can’t help but feel her perfect, full breasts. “I’ve been dreaming about this,” I whisper in her ear as she yanks at the hem of my shorts. I’m wearing just a pair of nylon shorts and a t-shirt, since I’ve been doing stunts. “Your fucking tits are even more perfect than I remembered.” “You’ve done a little growing, too,” she whispers and gasps as I grab her hair and tip her head back. “You don’t know the half of it.” I kiss her again, my tongue sliding along hers as she drops my nylon shorts down around my ankles. I kick them aside, my cock hard as fuck and straining against my black boxer briefs. I don’t waste any time in pulling her shorts off, unbuttoning the front and tugging them over her hips. She moans as my lips find her neck and throat, my other hand teasing her breasts. I push her bra straps down over her shoulders and lean down to kiss her chest and tease her nipple as my other hand slowly slips inside of her panties. She moans when I find her dripping wet pussy. “You’ve been thinking about this too, haven’t you?” I ask her.

“Maybe,” she moans as I tease her clit with my fingers. “I know you’ve been picturing my big fingers sliding inside your pussy. And my even bigger cock tearing you to pieces.” She moans as I press two fingers deep inside of her. I bite her lower lip and kiss her again as I slide my fingers in and out of her. She opens her legs wider, letting me fuck her deeper, and I slide back out to tease her clit before diving my fingers back inside. I bite her lip again and pull her hair back. “Every fucking day I pictured sliding my thick cock down your pretty throat,” I whisper to her. “Every day I thought about your ass working along my hard cock. Do you know how badly I want to leave my handprints on your smooth skin while fucking you rough?” “Show me,” she says, staring into my eyes. The red light makes her look incredible as I drop down to my knees. I yank her panties off and toss them aside before burying my mouth on her dripping cunt. I lap her up like it’s the first time I’ve tasted water. I lick every single inch of her, tasting her sweet fucking pussy. I really have been dreaming about

this moment for years, and it really did get me through some bad shit when I was a SEAL. I always pictured this moment, and she tastes even better than I could have imagined. I work that clit and slide my tongue inside of her, fucking her spot and making her moan. She grabs my hair as I support her thick ass with my hands, squeezing and pulling her tighter. I want her to feel it all, get fucking close before I finally get a real taste of what I need. I look up and tease her clit with my tongue. She’s staring down at me, full, thick hair spilling around her shoulder, perfect breasts shoved together. I smirk at her as she gasps and moans. “Careful, girl,” I whisper. “Can’t be too loud or you’ll give us away.” She bites her lip. “Sorry. I’m trying.” “I know you are.” I press two fingers inside of her again and stand. “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck about this movie. I’d take this pussy over a paycheck any day.” I kiss her and she moans into my kiss as my fingers bury inside of her again. She doesn’t seem to mind her own taste on my lips and that just makes me so fucking hard I can barely stand it. I know I can’t

take it anymore. I pull back, grab her hips, and turn her around. She knows what I want. She puts her hands flat on the wall and spreads her legs wide as I pull my boxer briefs off, revealing my thick, hard cock. “Oh,” she says, eyes wide, looking over her shoulder. “You were right. We’ve both grown.” I grin and stroke my massive cock for her. “Think you’re ready for this?” She nods her head once, eyes still wide. “Please,” she whispers. I grab her hair in my fist and press my cock against her pussy, slowly teasing her. I slide myself inside, letting her soaking spot ease me in. She gasps as I fill her, and I work myself deep in there, gathering up her juices and pushing deeper and deeper. Soon, she’s totally full. I unclip her bra in one easy motion and feel her breasts with both hands as I slowly slide myself back out. “Oh god, Jackson,” she whispers. “I always thought… I always wondered…” “What it would be like to take my big fucking cock in your tight little cunt?”

I smirk at her as she nods. “I wasn’t going to use those words though.” “Don’t be fucking shy, girl.” I slide myself inside of her again, this time harder, a little faster. She gasps and I grab one wrist, pinning it behind her back. “You’re all mine right now.” I push her against the wall, flattening her there, as I start to fuck her. She takes my big dick deep inside her pussy as I pump into her, losing my fucking mind with the pleasure of fucking her tight cunt. It’s unreal and incredible, the culmination of years of daydreams and jerkoff sessions. I won’t pretend like I haven’t gotten off thinking about this pussy before. And it exceeds all of my expectations. She’s so fucking soft, warm, slick, and tight, and she takes me like a fucking champ. Her moans are soft but strangled as she’s trying to keep herself quiet. She doesn’t want to get caught, and that just turns me on more. I start to fuck her faster. I slap that ass hard and she gasps, taking me deep between her legs. I can feel her quiver as I thrust into her tight pussy, tearing her to pieces, but I can’t hold back. I can’t hold anything back in this moment. I slap her ass again and pull her hair. We’re both

sweating, fucking feverishly. She works her ass back against me and I let her take the lead as she slides along my big dick. I release her wrist and she braces herself against the wall again, pumping herself back. I tease her nipples and feel her thick breasts as she presses back against me. “That’s right, girl, ride my cock. Let me fucking split you open until you come on my big dick. This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?” I pull her hair, making her gasp. “Yes,” she moans. “For fucking years.” She punctuates that by slamming back against me. “Ever since you disappeared.” She slams back harder. “Ever since you left.” She pushes harder and harder. I groan loudly and slam her ass, not able to take it anymore. I grab her hips and fuck her. I fuck her the way she needs to be fucked, rough and deep and without mercy. She takes it, working her back and taking my cock deep. We’re in a frenzy, sweating and fucking, and pleasure explodes through my body. Her thick ass presses against me and her moans get louder, out of control. She comes hard then. I can feel it deep inside her pussy, her whole body responding as the orgasm

rips her to pieces. I grunt and groan, not letting up, sailing on the fucking precipice. And just as she peaks, I explode inside of her. I fill that tight pussy up and it feels like every bit of cum drains from me. I come in deep, thick spurts inside of her, and we’re both sweating, exhausted, but smiling like crazy as we collapse onto the floor together. I wrap my big arms around her small body as I pull her close against me. I’m breathing deeper and buzzing with pure pleasure. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, maybe with her back in the day, but not like this exactly. We didn’t fuck back then, just fooled around with other stuff. But this, this was something next level, something incredible. This is what I’ve needed, what I’ve dreamed about. Her pussy feels like coming home, and I know I need more. I need much, much more.

16

TARA

I

’m sore but I’m smiling like crazy. Never in a million years did I imagine sleeping with Jackson like that. He was as good as dead to me, but now… I don’t know what he is now. My heart still feels closed to him, but I can sense it’s starting to open, although slowly. Maybe I slept with him but that doesn’t mean I’m falling wildly in love with him again. I don’t care that he made me feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life, and that sex with him was better than anything before. He still broke my heart, and I’m not risking that again. I’m still floating on a cloud the next day. Jackson isn’t a big part of these scenes, so I’m mostly working with Holly and another minor character.

Jackson is off with some stunt coordinator, working on his action scenes, and I just keep thinking about what he must look like right now. I keep feeling his thick cock slide inside of me. Every time I imagine him kissing me and fucking me there in that red-lit back corner of the stage, I find that I’m dripping wet already. Maybe it’s crazy but Jackson drives me absolutely insane, wilder than I’ve ever imagined. The day drags by slowly. After the lunch break, Holly is doing her lines. We have to go through a few takes, because she keeps messing one of the lines up. Normally we’d let it slide if it’s just a minor difference, but it actually matters for the script. I can tell she’s getting frustrated. “I’ll get it,” she says to Lionel. “Just keep rolling. I’ll get it.” “Go, go ahead,” he says. “Roll cameras. Action!” Holly goes through the scene, messes up the line, and curses. They reset and she does it again, this time messing up the timing. It takes a few more attempts before she finally nails it. This isn’t an unusual thing. Frankly, it happens on every single set. Sometimes a scene just isn’t coming together naturally for whatever reason, and

you have to keep going over and over it to get it right. Holly is a professional and she knows it. But when this happens, I have to make sure that everything makes sense. It’s my job to make sure that the take we’re going to end up using works within the confines of the script, and sometimes that means I have to rope the actor into the discussion. Once the scene is shot, I go over the footage on the monitor. “Holly, can you hold off for a sec?” I say to her before she can leave the set. She stares at me. “What do you want, script girl?” Her tone is openly hostile. It surprises the hell out of me, because up until now, I’ve had a good relationship with Holly. Sure, I’ve been jealous, but she’s been nice to me at least. “Uh, I just need to go over that last scene,” I say to her. “What do you need me for then? That’s your job, not mine.” She gives me an icy cold look. “Oh, uh, okay,” I say to her. “I like to have the actor around to—“ “Do your job, script girl.” She brushes me off and stalks away across the set.

I stare at her, not sure what the hell just happened. She just acted like I was asking her to do something absurd and outside of the norm. She’s stayed behind to watch the monitor with me before, and it’s always easier with the actor to help doublecheck everything. It’s a common practice on set, although the actors don’t necessarily have to do it. I stare after her for a second before sighing and shaking my head. I don’t know what the hell that was about, but if Holly suddenly hates me, things are going to be freaking tense on this set. I have to work with her every day for the next few months, and it’s awful if she can’t stand to be near me. This is going to make my life totally miserable. I manage to get through the scene on my own and the rest of the day passes without any issues. We do a few minor shots that go smoothly, and Holly basically pretends like I don’t exist, which is better than her actively hating me. Finally, when the set is wrapped and we’re done for the day, I head over to my locker to put away the script. “How was it out there?” I turn to find Jackson leaning against the wall, smiling at me. “Not bad,” I say to him, getting my things set up. I can’t help but smile back. I shiver, remembering the

feeling of his body against mine. He’s wearing a tight white shirt and he’s a little sweaty, which makes my heart start to race in my chest. Clearly he’s been working hard today with the stunt guys, and he looks amazing. I totally understand why he’s becoming such a big action star. Women want to sleep with him and men want to be him. “How was my favorite fake girlfriend?” he asks me. I hesitate a second. “Actually, something weird happened.” He raises an eyebrow. “Tell me about it.” I turn to face him, chewing my lip. “I don’t want to gossip. It could be nothing, honestly.” “Tara,” he says. “Tell me what happened.” “Well, we had some trouble on a scene. Afterward, I was going over the footage for continuity, and I asked Holly to help me out.” “Sure,” he says. “Standard stuff.” “Well, she blew me off. Actually, she acted like I was the most awful person she’s ever met for even asking her.” He looks surprised. “I thought you got along.”

“We did… until today, apparently.” “Shit,” he says softly. “What?” I ask him. “I mean, it’s probably nothing.” He crosses his arms, looking worried. “Jackson, tell me.” “Well, I had to… I had to tell her about you.” I take a sharp breath. “About yesterday?” I ask him softly, afraid someone might overhear. “No,” he says. “But that I’m not doing this relationship with her for real.” “She came on to you?” He nods. “And I told her I’m not interested. Because of you.” My heart starts to race faster. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel in this moment. “Shit, Jackson,” I say softly. “Why did you do that?” “I had to say something.” He steps toward me, but I move away. “Now she hates me,” I say, realizing how bad this

is. “She thinks I’m her enemy or something. Holy shit, this is going to be so bad.” “Tara, I didn’t mean to—“ “No,” I say, shaking my head. “God, I knew it was a mistake to do this with you. We work together. We can’t get involved.” “I can talk to her again. Tell her to back off.” “No,” I say forcefully, meeting his gaze. “Don’t. Stay away from her.” “I just want to help.” “You helped enough already. Now Holly hates me, and I’m going to have to deal with it.” I slam my locker shut, lock it, and turn away from him. “Thanks for that.” I storm off, so angry I can barely think. I don’t want to stick around and keep arguing with him. I’m torn about this. On the one hand, he did turn down Holly for me, which is kind of a huge deal. He’s supposedly a big player, but not sleeping with her for my sake might actually mean something. But on the other hand, because he told her that, now she hates me. And my working relationship with her is screwed up. I know you’re not supposed to get involved with your coworkers, and Jackson is

my coworker. He’s making things so much more complicated than I ever wanted. I’m torn on how to feel about this, but in the end, I’m angry with him. I don’t want him talking about me behind my back, even if it’s just to say that he wants me or whatever he said. I want our history to remain private. I head back home, mind spinning, completely torn on what to think.

17

JACKSON

I

knew this shit with Holly was going to be a problem.

“Get me out of it,” I say into the phone. “You know I can’t,” Mickey replies. “Listen, Jackson, it’s just a short-term thing. Just a few months. And plus, Holly Hart? Come on, man.” I sigh. I’m sick of hearing that I should be happy about this relationship with Holly just because she’s fucking attractive. Frankly, I’m not that into her, and it’s goddamn insulting. Like all I do is think with my fucking cock, and I should be so lucky to have some fake Hollywood shit with a half attractive psycho starlet. “Holly is fucking unhinged,” I say to Mickey.

“She’s giving Tara shit now, and how the hell are we supposed to work together like this?” “Tara?” Mickey asks. “Who’s that, some girl you’re fucking?” I hesitate for a second, because I genuinely don’t know how to describe her. “She’s the reason I don’t want to be in this shit in the first place,” I decide to say. “Tara? Who the fuck is Tara? This is your career, dummy. You have to suck it up and get through it. Tara will understand.” I clench my jaw. “No, Tara will not understand. She won’t understand when Holly makes her fucking life a living hell.” “Who the hell is Tara anyway?” “She’s the script girl on this movie. It doesn’t matter. All that matter’s is you get me out of this.” Mickey sighs and I can tell he’s really frustrated, but I don’t care. I know I’m not his usual Hollywood client. Most of those pretty-boy asshole actors would be fucking thrilled to be in my position. I’m not like them, though. My life is fucking real, and it’s not just some big game and act for my fucking career.

“I’ll try,” he says finally. “I don’t think it’s going to happen though, Jackson. If you want to stay on this movie, you gotta get through it.” “What if I just dump her in a few weeks? They won’t be able to fire me then.” “Do that and they’ll fucking blacklist you from every single major studio and you’ll be on the street sucking cocks for dimes,” Mickey says with a little fire. “Don’t be stupid.” “Just fix this,” I say to him. “You want your big fat paycheck? Do your goddamn job. I don’t care about this as much as you do.” I hang my phone up and throw it across the room, annoyed as hell. It’s around midnight, and I’m a little surprised Mickey is even still awake. He has a wife and kids, although he does work pretty much all day and all night. He’s one of those type-A crazy guys, but he gets the job done. I know this isn’t his fault, but I need him to get me out of this garbage, or else I’m fucked. I sigh and sit down on the couch. I grab my glass of whisky from the table and sip it, staring at the television blankly. It’s on mute and playing some old French movie that looks like it’s pretty

goddamn dramatic. I’m sick of living out of hotels, but I know I have nowhere else to go. This is the life of an actor. You go to these fancy fucking hotels, and that’s pretty cool at first. The studio picks up the tab, as long as you’re not insane about what you’re buying, they’ll pay for it. I can get all the food and drinks I want, pretty much anything I need really, and it’s all on them. Except that wears off really fast, and soon you find yourself in the same bland, lifeless room night after night, away from anything you call home, trying to get through the shit because it’s your job. There are sacrifices that come along with fame, and a lot of people don’t mind them. But I’m not like most people in this industry. Every new movie I do proves that more and more. The longer I’m around these people, the more I don’t want to be like them. It’s clear that a lot of people assimilate to this fake ass garbage, but I don’t want to be one of those. A knock at the door pulls me from my self-loathing reverie. I sip my whisky, assuming it’s the room service I ordered. Sometimes I like to fucking binge on good alcohol, especially when I’m in a shit mood. I don’t let it affect my work, and I don’t do it often, but once in a while it’s good to get nice and drunk. Unfortunately, I’m out of whisky, and

nowhere near drunk enough yet. I get up and walk to the door. Without looking through the fucking peephole, which I should always do, I pull it open. And standing there, wearing a long, low-cut dress is Holly Hart. She smiles at me, her blonde hair messy and down around her shoulders as she leans toward me. “Hey there, boyfriend,” she says. I dodge back as she stumbles into the room. She puts one hand on the door, keeping it open. “What are you doing here?” I ask her. She pouts at me. I guess she decided she needed to get fucking wasted tonight, too. Unfortunately, she beat me to it, and now I’m dealing with the consequences. “I can’t come and see my boy toy?” she asks me, slurring her words. “We’re not really dating,” I say to her. “You need to leave.” “Don’t be such a fucking prude, Jackson.” She stumbles into the room and walks over to where I left my half-finished glass. She picks it up and sips it. “Oh, nice,” she says.

I sigh and shut the door. I don’t want anyone to see her here, but I can’t just throw her out. That’ll only make the situation worse. She’s drunk enough that I’m afraid she’ll make a scene, so I need to be a little diplomatic. “Go ahead, finish it if you want,” I say to her. “Why are you always so cold?” she asks me, coming over. “You know why,” I say to her. She stops and bats her eyes at me, doing the most pathetic seductive look I’ve ever seen. “Come on, don’t you think I’m cute?” she asks. “You’re pretty, Holly, but you know why I’m not into this.” “That fucking script girl.” She sounds genuinely angry. “It’s not her fault. She told me you were pretty nasty on set today.” “So what? Fuck that bitch. I want to feel that big action star cock in my fucking mouth, Jackson, and she’s in my way.” I stare at her and she grins back. I’m actually a little disgusted by how drunk she is. “You need to stop,” I say. “Don’t take this shit out on Tara.”

“Fuck Tara,” she says, throwing the rest of the drink back down her throat. “She’s a fucking bitch.” She drops the glass on the ground and stumbles over to the kitchen area. “There’s nothing else here,” I say. “You drank the last of it.” “Well, whatever,” she says, rummaging through a cabinet. “You’re not going to fuck me tonight. Might as well get fucking drunk, right?” “Holly, stop,” I say to her. I walk over and grab her by the shoulders, pulling her away from the kitchen. “Oh, there’s my big strong man,” she says, stumbling along. “Go to your room,” I say to her. “There’s something to drink there. We can talk tomorrow.” “I don’t want to talk to you, you big dumb piece of meat. I want to fuck you.” She turns and tries to throw her arms around me again. I dodge around her again, catching her as she stumbles. “Okay,” I say as she sways, off balance. I hold her against me and toss her arm over my shoulder. “You’re okay.” That last bit of whisky must have put her over the

edge. “Come on, pussy, fuck my pussy,” she slurs and laughs at herself. “Another time,” I say, walking with her to the door. “Come on, I’ll get you back to your room.” “And then you’ll fuck me,” she replies. I sigh and get the door open. I walk with her out into the hall, and although someone might see me with her, I can’t help it. I can’t leave her alone when she’s this fucking drunk. She’s crazy and a pain in the ass but she’s still a person, and I’m not the type of guy to leave her alone. I get her to the end of the hallway and hit the elevator up button. I know she has a room on the twentieth floor, while I’m down on the nineteenth. I don’t think she can do stairs right now, so elevator it is. “Your biceps are big,” she mumbles and giggles. “I’m drunk.” “Yes, you are,” I say, sighing. This is not how I wanted to spend my night. The doors ding and slide open. Mercifully, the elevator is empty. I get her inside and hit the twentieth floor button. The doors slide shut and Holly leans up against me.

“I hate acting,” she slurs. “You know that? It’s so stupid.” I’m pretty surprised. Holly is a good actress, despite her insane personality. Acting seems like the perfect gig for her. “Why do you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious. “’Cos I’m pretty and I want to be famous,” she says. “Why the fuck else would I do this?” She looks up at me like she’s annoyed. “Right, good point,” I say. “God, you are so stupid,” she says and reaches up to stroke my cheek. I knock her hand away and she pouts. “But so pretty.” I clench my jaw and watch the elevator finally come to a stop. The doors open and we stumble out into the hallway again. “Which room is yours?” I ask her. “Uh, I dunno,” she says. “Your room, baby.” She giggles at that. I sigh and push her up against the wall. “Where’s your key?” I ask. “Oh yeah, big boy, go ahead, take me.” She leans forward like she’s going to kiss me.

I duck down under it and open her purse. I root through it, ignoring the condom and cigarettes, and grab her cards. I find the key in the middle of a stack of credit cards and Target gift cards. “Which room is yours?” I ask her again. “Twenty twenty,” she says. “Okay then.” I grab her and pull her along, supporting her weight the whole time. We get to the end of the hall and sure enough, there’s room 2020. I slide the card and the door unlocks. Just as I get the door open, a man steps out from the shadows in the corner on the right. I didn’t notice him at first, because he was pressed back against the wall. He brings up a camera. “Smile,” he says, and starts shooting. “Motherfucker,” I growl, and let go of Holly. She stumbles and nearly falls. As I catch her, the guy takes a few more shots and starts running away. “Piece of shit,” I call after him. “Fuck!” He disappears around the corner. “Who was that?” Holly asks. “He seemed nice.” “Goddamnit,” I grumble. I get her door open and steer her inside. I snap on a light and ignore how

fucking messy the place is. I get her across the room and into the bedroom before dropping her on the bed. She hits it with a thump and groans. “You can do it, just be quiet,” she says to me. I make a face. “Sleep tight,” I say, shaking my head. What a fucking mess. She’d let me fuck her right now, despite being goddamn wasted. I don’t know what happened in her life to get her like this, but here she is, blackout drunk and groaning. I watch her for a second, but I’m pretty sure she’s already asleep, so I leave. I head back through her messy living room and out into the hall. What a fucking wreck. Holly came on to me again and I’m sure she’ll be feeling this tomorrow. On top of that, some paparazzi fuckwit got some pictures of us together, and I’m sure that’s going to be on the front page of a bunch of shit in the morning. I head back downstairs and get back to my room. Fortunately, there’s a bottle of whisky waiting for me on the ground. I pick it up and head inside. I crack it open and pour a drink, but I don’t feel like getting wasted anymore. I knock it back and try to forget just how fucking

fucked I really am. Maybe Tara won’t see that picture. Maybe Holly will get over her childish insanity and start being professional to Tara again. Maybe pigs will fly and my dick will jizz gold. I shake my head and go to bed. I’ll deal with it in the morning.

18

TARA

I

don’t know why I check the blogs, but I can’t help myself. As soon as I pull up Herez Pilton, a picture of Jackson supporting a clearly hammered Holly greets me like an atom bomb. And to top it all off, the headline reads, “JACKSON AND HOLLY GET HAMMERED BEFORE HE HAMMERS HER.” I groan and scroll through the article. It’s the usual crap, plus a few more pictures. Jackson is holding Holly up, outside of a hotel room, and she’s very drunk. I can’t tell if he’s drunk or not, or what they’re even doing together so late at night. Jackson wouldn’t sleep with Holly like that, would he? I mean, he tells me that he’s not interested in

her, but still. He clearly was with her last night when she was really drunk. The article says sex noises were heard from outside of her room, but I don’t know if these blogs just make shit up or whatever. I close my laptop lid and roll over in bed. I don’t want to go back to fucking work today, not with all this shit hanging over my head, but I can’t skip out. I’m going to have to face it sooner or later. I get up, get dressed, and get ready. “Chin up, kid,” Laney says to me as I’m leaving for the day. I pause at the door. “Still up or just getting up?” She grins at me. “Still up.” “Go to sleep.” “Aye, aye, captain.” She salutes me as I leave. The article with Jackson and Holly is all the rage on set today, which can’t be a big surprise to me. The crew loves to gossip about this sort of stuff, but I can’t let it get to me. We have some minor shots to do and fortunately Jackson isn’t in any of them. Holly is late to the set, so we go ahead and start doing some work with the extras and a few other minor characters.

A few hours pass and we get some work done before Holly Hart finally shows up. She comes on stage wearing big black sunglasses and talking quietly, and it’s obvious that she’s hungover. There are whispers all over about this, and it’s driving me crazy, but at least she doesn’t give me any dirty looks. In fact, she doesn’t even look at me at all. I don’t have to interact with her much, but she’s not openly hostile toward me this time. I don’t know why but she acts like I don’t exist, which is way better than her acting like I killed her dog or something. Holly gets in a few scenes and although she’s clearly feeling like hot garbage, she manages to get through it with some poise. The crew is going nuts and gossiping like crazy, and I’m pretty darn confused myself, but at least we get some actual work done. “That’s lunch!” As soon as the director calls it, Holly darts for her trailer and disappears. I’m torn about what to do. On the one hand, I’m happy Holly isn’t trying to murder me with her eyes. On the other though, I don’t know what the hell Jackson was doing with her. And I know it’s none of my business.

I head over toward the food line, still thinking about what’s going on, when Jackson appears from his workout. “Tara,” he says, catching my eye. “Can I talk to you a second?” I look at him and hesitate. He sounds like it’s about work, which I can’t really turn down, but I’m not sure I want to talk to him right now. Still, I have to go with him, especially since there are so many people around right now. “Sure,” I say, and follow him away from the group. I hurry to catch up to him as he opens the door to his trailer and walks inside. I follow him in there, not sure what the hell I’m expecting. The door shuts behind me and he turns as we step into his little living area. “You saw the pictures,” he says to me simply. “Yeah, I saw them.” “It’s not what it looks like. I was home all night last night.” I shrug a little, my heart beating faster. “It doesn’t matter to me.” “It matters to me. The fucking paparazzi can lie all they want, but I’m telling you the truth.” “Okay then. What was that in those pictures?” I

don’t know if I want the answer, because I’m afraid of what it’ll make me feel. “She showed up at my room, drunk as hell. She came on to me.” He stares at me, a straight face. “I don’t need details,” I say. “Yes, you do. I want you to know everything.” “You don’t owe me this, Jackson. It’s not like we did anything but sleep together one time.” “Listen to me. She was drunk as hell, falling down on herself. I helped her back to her room and that’s all that happened. The fucking paparazzi appeared out of nowhere, I guess he had snuck in and found out where she was staying. Caught us both off guard.” I frown at that. It’s not unheard of for a paparazzi to bribe a hotel employee to find out which room a star is staying in. I’m guessing Holly will switch rooms or maybe even hotels to avoid getting hounded every day. The hotel should be better about security, but that sort of thing happens sometimes. It’s not impossible. I mean, based on the pictures I saw, I can totally see that happening. “So you just dropped her at her room?” I ask him.

“Exactly. She was wasted, Tara. And I’m not interested in her at all.” My heart is beating faster and this is what I was afraid of. I didn’t want to know the truth because it’s easier to hate him. It’s so much simpler if he’s just an asshole that broke my heart and nothing more to me. But as he steps closer, I know that’s not the case. It hasn’t been, not since he walked back into my life. The bastard broke me, but now he’s back, and all those old feelings are warring inside of me. He stops inches away from me. I can’t help but notice that he’s slightly damp with sweat, but not too bad. He’s looking at me like he wants to rip my clothes off and I’m freaking out. I should run away, get the hell out of there, but I’m rooted in place. I want to feel what I felt the other day again. I want to taste him, even if it’s irresponsible and stupid. “You know there’s only one thing I want,” he says, his body so close to mine. “We can’t,” I whisper, but I don’t mean it. He can see right through me. He always could. “Yes, we can.” He kisses me and I don’t resist. I feel everything inside of me crumble. All of my fear and my anger

and my disappointment, it all melts away and I’m left at his mercy, totally exposed for him. He doesn’t waste any time. We’re in his trailer, surrounded by people outside, but I don’t care. He presses me back against the couch, pushing me down into the cushions. His powerful body pins me beneath him as he pulls my shirt off, yanking it over my head and tossing it aside. His lips are starving as they find my neck and throat. His hands tease my breasts and unhook my bra, pulling it off. He cups my full breasts and teases my nipples as he kisses me again. My heart is pounding and I’m wet already with anticipation. I know what’s coming, what he’s going to do to me, and I need it so badly. “Come here, girl,” he says, pulling me onto his lap. I toss my hair back and straddle him, grinding my hips down against his hard cock. I can feel him through his thin gym shorts as his hands reach up along my hips to tease my breasts again. One of his hands reaches back and grabs my hair. He tips my head back, pulling my long, thick hair. I gasp as he smirks and kisses my neck. “This is all I want,” he whispers. “Your fucking perfect little wet cunt wrapped around my thick cock.” “Don’t be so filthy,” I say, pushing him back.

He laughs and pulls my hair again. “You like it filthy. Stop pretending like you’re some good girl, Tara. I know you better than that.” “No, you don’t,” I say, and I bite his lower lip. He grunts and twists, lifting me into the air. He pushes me back down onto the couch and drops onto his knees in front of me. He roughly pulls my jeans off and rips off my panties until I’m completely naked in front of him. He pulls my hair again and I dig my nails into his back. I’m angry and I’m dripping wet, and I need this moment so badly. “Look at you, naked in my trailer, begging for it rough,” he says with a smirk. “I’m not begging for it.” I pull his hair back. He grins at me and drops back down below my waist. His lips find my pussy as he roughly pushes my legs wide open. He pins my hands down at my sides as he licks and sucks my pussy. I struggle a little bit but he holds me there, and really I just want to work my hips against his mouth as his practiced tongue laps at my swollen clit. He dives in and out of my pussy with his tongue and goes back to sucking my clit. Waves of pleasure wash through me as he continues to

roughly hold me down, pinning my hands at my sides and down against the couch. “You’re an asshole,” I say to him. “An animal. A filthy fucking beast. I don’t want anything to do with you.” That only makes him press two of his thick fingers deep inside of my pussy. With his other hand he grabs my hair. “Liar,” he says to me, pumping his fingers. I can’t help but moan as the pleasure and the pain mix. “You’re an asshole,” I groan. “A fucking asshole. I don’t want anything to do with you.” “You’re all I want,” he says, biting my lip and pressing his fingers deep inside of my pussy. “And I’ll show you exactly what you want.” He pulls his fingers out and stands. He quickly pulls his shorts and boxer briefs off, revealing his thick cock. I reach up to take it in my hand but he takes my wrist and pulls it away, pinning it back down against the top of the couch. With his other hand he takes my hair and he presses his cock against my mouth. I moan as I take him between my lips. I suck him faster, letting him slide into my throat as he fucks my lips.

“This is what you want, you dirty fucking slut,” he says to me. “You’re just as bad as I am, and you know it. Deep down all you want is for my thick cock to fuck you and spread you apart. You just want to be my filthy little fuck girl, lying around waiting for my big dick to rip you to shreds.” I’m moaning as I suck him. He releases my other wrist and presses my head down, forcing his big cock into my throat. I gag but I take him. I ignore the tears that spring to my eyes as I let him fuck my throat. I dig my nails into his thighs and he groans his pleasure. He pulls back and I gasp. He kisses me full and deep before pulling my hair back again and taking his cock in his other hand. He teases my lips and makes me suck his tip again. I suck him hard and fast along his tip and shaft. “Get up,” he says, pulling me by my hair. I have to obey him. He gets me to my feet and spins me around, putting my knees on the couch, my ass in the air. I’m dripping wet and I’m so exposed, totally naked there on the couch. He pulls his shirt off and I watch him over my shoulder as he gets behind me, his muscles ripped and shining in the trailer light. “Look at this cunt,” he says, teasing me with his cock. He drops to his knees and spreads my ass open. “Look at this perfect little pussy.” He licks

me top to bottom, tasting everything. He slaps my ass hard, making me gasp, before getting back up. He grabs one of my wrists and twists it behind my back. Just as it’s starting to hurt, he shoves his cock inside of me, filling me up and blasting a wave of pleasure through my body. His other hand pulls my hair back again and I’m totally pinned there, his cock skewering my tight pussy, his hands gripping my body. “This is what you live for,” he whispers in my ear. “This is what you need.” “Stop talking and fuck me,” I snap back at him, wanting him to be angry. I want him to be as angry as I am. He laughs and slaps my ass hard. I gasp and start to back against him, sliding my ass along his thick cock. I need to feel him fucking me tight and deep, ripping me apart and making me feel good. I need him to punish me. He starts to fuck me, sliding his cock deep inside of me. He grabs my hips and rips into me, rocking my pussy rough and deep, not holding back at all. I grip the back of the couch and look over my shoulder as he tears into me. “You like to fucking see me rip your cunt to

pieces?” he says to me. He slaps my ass and my mouth hangs open, staring at his gorgeous body as he fucks me. He grabs my hair again, slaps my ass, and pumps into my pussy. I work back against him harder and harder, slamming my ass into him, taking his thick cock deep inside of me. It hurts and it feels good and it’s exactly what I need right now. I pull forward and he slides out of me. Before he can press back inside of me, I turn around and kiss him. I press my body against his and he takes me, kissing me back. I steer him around and push him back down onto the couch. He smirks and strokes his cock. I grab my hair and put it up into a messy bun before straddling him and slowly letting his cock slide inside of me. I grab onto the couch on either side of his head and I press my lips against his ear. “You’re a bastard for what you did,” I say to him. I start to work my hips faster, our faces so close. He grabs my hips and slaps my ass. “You don’t deserve this.” He smirks and pulls my hair back. “This is exactly what you deserve, though,” he says back. I ride him faster, fucking my frustrations and my

anger away. All of my feelings come bubbling up to the surface and I want it rough, want it so fucking rough I can barely stand it. I move faster and faster, building up the friction as he slaps my ass and pulls my hair. I don’t know where this is coming from but it feels so fucking good. I want to come so badly, and I realize how close I am. I slam my hips down and back, taking his cock deep inside of me, and I grind down along him, working in circles. He bites and teases my nipples, cupping my full breasts. I slide my fingers through his hair and I slam myself back and down. He fucks me, working into my pussy, and I can’t help it anymore. I can’t hold it back. “Go ahead, Tara,” he whispers in my ear. “Come for me.” I gasp and I don’t know how he can read me so easily, but I can’t stop myself. I come hard, the orgasm washing over my body, destroying everything. It’s like all of my anger and sadness and frustration comes washing out of me in pleasure and pain. It’s so intense that my entire body spasms and shakes, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hold back. He just fucks my pussy as I come, and he wraps his arms

around me, holding me tight against him. He grunts his own pleasure, and I can feel him come inside of me. He comes in thick, hot spurts, filling my pussy up. I gasp and moan and whisper his name as he comes and I feel so fucking good I can barely breathe. When we finish, we collapse onto the couch together, his arms wrapped around my body. We’re quiet for a little while until I finally laugh. “What?” he asks. “I have to go back to work,” I say. He grins at me. “You might want to shower.” I sigh. “You’re probably right.” “Come on. I’ll wash your back.” I get up and grin at him. “No, thanks,” I say. “You can stay out here.” He frowns. “That’s no fun.” “Too bad.” I grab my clothes and go back into his bathroom. I start the shower and clean myself off. I did it again. I let myself do something stupid. I keep falling for Jackson, even when I know better. He’s involved in some fake relationship with Holly,

who hates my guts, not to mention our complicated past. This is so stupid, and yet I can’t help myself. My feelings for him are so complex and intense that when he touches my body I can’t hold anything back. I shower up and head back to work like nothing just happened, but for the rest of the day, I keep thinking about Jackson’s hands on my skin, his lips against mine.

19

JACKSON

“I

t ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen, okay?”

I glare at Mickey and cross my legs. He’s sitting behind his oversized desk and the thing makes him look like a fucking balding child. I want to get up and rip that stupid geometric tie off his smug neck but I know I still need him, despite being pissed with him. “Did you talk with Franklin directly?” I ask him. “Jackson, baby, listen to me: I fucking tried, okay? I called Franklin, I called Harold, hell, I even called fucking Holly’s agent, Dick, and that guy seriously is a fucking dick, you know?” I groan a little and adjust myself on his cheap couch. “So it’s not happening,” I say.

“It’s not happening,” he says, and he seems genuinely sorry about it. “Look, I want everything for you. You’re a good kid, you work hard, it’s no bullshit with you. But unfortunately here, you have to play the game, and the game wants you to fake date Holly Hart.” I glance over at the window and I know this isn’t going to get me anywhere. Mickey wanted this from the start, but I do believe that he’s trying to get me out of it. Mickey hasn’t lied to me before, and I don’t think he’d start now. The door opens and Von steps in. Mickey looks up and curses. “Not right now,” he says. Von smiles sweetly. “Iced tea for Mr. Hendricks.” “Thanks,” I grunt as he hands me the drink. “Did he ask for it?” Mickey shouts. “No,” Von says. “But it’s really good,” I say, taking a sip. “Damnit, Von,” Mickey says, and he’s already starting to get a little red. Von grins at me. “I think you should do whatever you want, and ignore this old blowhard’s advice.” “I’m going to fire your ass,” Mickey screams, and

Von laughs as he leaves the room. I grin at Mickey. “That kid loves fucking with you.” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Yeah, well, if he were smart he’d be kissing my ass instead.” “I think he’s right though.” I stand up and put the drink down on Mickey’s desk. He instantly shuffles some papers around and tries to find a coaster for it. “I’m going to figure this out on my own.” “Jackson, hold on, wait.” I turn and go to leave, and Mickey is too busy trying to get a coaster under the drink to stop me. He cares more about his precious little desk, which doesn’t surprise me at all. That’s this whole fucking town in a nutshell: all flash, no substance. But I have substance. And I know what I need to do. Outside, I get into my car and start driving. I call up Mickey’s office and Von answers on the first ring. “Mickey Rains,” he says. “Von, it’s Jackson.” “Didn’t I just see you?” he asks me. “Listen, what’s Franklin’s home address?”

He hesitates a second. “That old studio guy?” “Yeah, that’s the one.” “Mickey would kill me if I told you.” “Isn’t that a good reason to do it then?” He laughs a little. “Yeah, okay. But seriously, Jackson, you should take Mickey’s advice. He knows what he’s doing.” “I know,” I say. “Address, please.” “Just a sec.” He taps at his computer for a minute before reading me an address. It’s in a really nice part of town, which isn’t surprising. “Thanks, I owe you one.” I hang up and plug the address into my GPS before taking off even faster. My plan is pretty half-baked, but I hate waiting around for Mickey to make something happen. Clearly that’s not working, and I have something good with Tara, or at least I might. This new picture in the tabloids isn’t helping anything, but I think I convinced her that it’s all bullshit. At least I hope so. Tara doesn’t seem like everyone else out here. I don’t think Hollywood has contaminated her like it has everyone else. She seems more interested in getting her work done and doing a good job than she does in networking and

pretending to be everyone’s best friend. There are other people like her out here, of course, but they’re few and far between. The longer I’m here doing movies, the longer I realize that I hate Hollywood. It has a stink to it. Everything reeks of plastic and cleaning agents. It’s all too smooth and perfect, but I know that’s just the image they want you to see. People out here are all façade and show, but there’s nothing underneath propping it all up. Which is why I think I can convince this studio guy. He’s probably not used to an actor actually standing up for himself and demanding something. Sure, actors want little stupid perks, but when it comes to the big stuff, they always roll over and do what their master wants. I pull up out front of Franklin’s place. It’s gated, like every fucking house out here, but fortunately it opens as soon as I pull into the driveway. The house itself is set back from the front. It’s large and white with big white columns, sort of a cross between colonial and Greek styling. It’s honestly fucking ugly and absurd, but people love this shit out here. I get out of my car and climb up the steps. I ring the bell, which is this big booming sound that I can’t help but roll my eyes at. A minute later, a little girl pulls open the enormous wood door and looks up at

me with these big blue eyes. She’s maybe four years old and is absolutely adorable. “Hey there, sweetie,” I say. “Is your daddy home?” She nods her head. “Can I see him?” She nods her head again but doesn’t move. I smile and kneel down in front of her. “What’s your name?” “Ashley,” she says in her tiny little girl voice. “Ashley, pretty name. Do you like movies, Ashley?” “Yes,” she says. “Daddy makes movies.” “That’s right, he does. I work in your daddy’s movies.” She smiles at me. “Actor,” she says. “That’s right, I’m an actor.” “Actors are all scum,” she says. “Daddy says that!” I stare, completely fucking shocked, as she turns and runs back into the house. I can’t believe the little girl just said that. I burst out laughing, not able

to help myself as I stand back up. He must say that a lot if she’s repeating it. I push the door open a bit. “Hello?” I call in. A second later, Franklin comes around the corner, followed by his daughter. “Jackson?” he asks, cocking his head. “What are you doing here?” “I’m really sorry,” I say. “I just need a second of your time.” He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Okay. Five minutes.” He kneels down in front of his daughter. “Now, honey, what does daddy always say about actors?” She smiles sweetly at me. “Best people ever.” I grin at her and wink and she giggles before Franklin sends her away. That must be what he wants her to say, but clearly little Ashley knows her daddy better than he realizes. Doesn’t matter to me. I think all studio execs are scum, so we’re even. I follow Franklin into his obnoxiously gorgeous house, and I have to wonder if the guy makes more money than I do. We head into his study and he sits behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat in front of him.

“Okay, you have me,” he says. “Pulled me away from dinner. My wife can cook a mean fucking steak, you know that? Gives a mean blowjob too, but I get the steak more often.” I fake a laugh but I already hate this guy. “I’m here about Holly,” I say, getting down to it. He groans. “Save your breath, Jackson. Your agent already tried.” I clench my jaw slightly. “I want out.” “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “You wanna finish this movie? You need to stick it out.” “I was thinking about that.” I say. “We’ve shot a lot of the movie already, or at least the important bits. If I walked now, you’d still have to pay me for what I did so far. Then you’d have to find a replacement, someone that can draw an audience like I can, and you’ll have to pay them to work last minute and fast. Plus all the footage you lost, all the crew you’ve paid, it’ll all get pushed back.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Studio has a lot of money.” “Sure they do, but we’re talking millions here. How confident are you guys in this film that you can do it without me at this point?”

He stares at me for a second before laughing. “I have to admit, you’re the real deal, Jackson Hendricks.” I grin at him but there’s nothing behind my smile. “Listen, here’s the truth. We don’t give a fuck about this movie. It’s just some summer blockbuster bullshit. It’ll make us some money and then we’ll move on.” He opens a drawer in his desk and takes a cigar out of a box. He clips it and lights it as he talks. “We don’t care about you either, Jackson. Sure, you can act and your story is pretty fucking cool, but you’re replaceable. Everyone is fucking replaceable. It’s when you start to think that you’re important that you get fucked up, you understand?” He puffs on his cigar and leans back in his chair. “I hear a lot of talk, but you’re not saying much,” I reply. “I want out of this fake relationship.” “I want my wife to let me fuck her up the ass, but we don’t always get what we want.” “Okay then. I’m fucking walking.” I stand up, fully prepared to follow through. I don’t need this job. I don’t need to be an actor. I can find something else to do if I have to. Sure, I get paid well, and being famous is pretty fun, but it’s not important to me. I’m ready to let it all go for

Tara. “Hold on,” he says before I can turn away. “How about this. You can break up with Holly when filming is over.” I raise an eyebrow. “Why not right fucking now? If we’re not doing promos as a couple, what’s the point?” “It’ll look bad if you break up so fast,” he says. “There’s a difference between a relationship that doesn’t work out, say, and a fucking volatile one. People will think you’re both crazy actors.” “Who cares?” I ask him. “Trust me on this. We want the public to see you two as wholesome people that just didn’t work out, not as crazy actors that fucked for a bit before dumping each other in the middle of filming. That’s bad news for the movie.” I hesitate for a second. “The second we wrap, I’m done. And no more public appearances.” “Fine,” he agrees. “Studio might leak some fake stories, though.” “Whatever. But I’m not doing shit for this, and I’m dumping her very publically when it’s all over.” “Fine.” He grins at me, puffing his cigar. “You

really would walk, wouldn’t you?” “Absolutely,” I say to him, before turning and leaving his office. I show myself out of his house, get into my car, and head back to my hotel room. That’s not the solution I wanted, but it’s a good start. At least I can tell Tara that I did something. Mickey is going to be pissed but Mickey is always pissed. I’m still in the movie, he’ll still get his money. I just hope this is enough to make Tara happy. I hope she can see that Holly means shit to me, that Tara is everything.

20

TARA

A

t work the next day, I’m optimistic.

Sure, I slept with Jackson in his trailer. Well, really, I had an intense and almost angry fuck session with him, but that’s not the point. Holly was at least tolerable toward me for the rest of the day, and I’m starting to think that maybe things are turning around. Sure, I’m still confused as hell about Jackson, but whatever. I can figure that out one day down the line. I mean, I can sleep with him and not get emotionally invested, right? That’s totally possible. Absolutely. Definitely something I can do. Except, of course it isn’t. I know myself. I’ve never been able to separate sex and emotions, but especially not when it comes to Jackson. I can’t

even do it when we’re having sex. Yesterday I felt every single moment of anger and frustration come building up inside of me, even as the pleasure built up at the same rate. When I came, it was like releasing all of those emotions, flushing them away and getting rid of them. It was an incredibly emotional and a physical thing, all wrapped up into one. So of course I’m lying to myself when I think that I can just sleep with Jackson and nothing else. I know I’m getting sucked back into his bullshit, but I have to be careful. He’s already complicated my life more than I want. Holly seems like she’s going to tolerate me, or at least she did yesterday, but that girl is dramatic and volatile. She can explode basically at any moment. And when she does, I’m afraid I’m going to be directly in her crosshairs. Even still, despite knowing all of that, I’m slightly taken off guard when it happens. We’re resetting for the next shot. It’s around nine in the morning, and we’ve been shooting since six. It’s going to be a long day and everyone knows they’re in for some overtime, so everyone is trying to work as hard as they can to get through today’s schedule. Nobody messes around and the early morning portion goes smoothly. The stunts are clean and we

get them on the first take, and I can tell that Lionel’s pleased. And so I’m not expecting Holly to come up to me as I’m skimming the script to get a feel for the rest of the day. “Script girl,” she says to me. I look up, still a little groggy, a cup of coffee nearby. Jackson is in makeup at the moment, so he’s nowhere to be seen, and I figured Holly would be with him. “Uh, hey,” I say to her. “We need to talk.” She stands in front of me and crosses her arms. “Sure,” I say, wary of this. “What’s up?” “I heard from my agent last night. Apparently, Jackson went to a studio executive’s house and tried to get out of our relationship.” She steps toward me, her eyes narrowing. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Okay,” I say to her. “Are you okay?” I don’t know what else to say. “Don’t pretend you give a shit, you little bitch,” she hisses at me. My eyes go wide. “This is your fault.”

“Uh, I didn’t intend—“ “Save it,” she snaps. “He can’t get away from me even if he tried. We’re still together and we aren’t breaking up anytime soon. So back the fuck off my man and don’t ruin this for me.” I stare at her, wide-eyed, and I have no clue what to say. Jackson isn’t really her man, and he’s clearly trying to do everything he can to get out of it. That actually makes me really, really happy. But Holly isn’t having it. She’s seething right now, and I’m pretty sure she’s one wrong move away from trying to claw my eyes out or something. She looks like a wild animal on the hunt, ready to kill at any moment. “Okay, Holly,” I say to her very carefully. I’m not going to try and poke a bear when it’s angry, and Holly is clearly an angry bear. “Good. We can work together, but I swear, if I catch you trying to ruin what I have with him…” She trails off and grins at me. “We’ll just say that there are a lot of script girls in this town.” I just stare at her, not sure how to react. She turns and actually flips her hair like we’re in some freaking movie and she stalks off toward the makeup trailer, no doubt to chat with Jackson.

Holy crap. That woman is totally insane. She must have just been too hungover yesterday to give me shit. But that news about Jackson… that seems like good news. I bite my lip and look down, not sure what to think. Holly wants to murder me and get me fired, but Jackson is doing his best to get away from her. I never asked for any of this. I didn’t want Jackson back in my life and I definitely didn’t want the wrath of Holly Hart. She’s clearly nuts and nothing but a huge liability for both myself and this whole freaking film. I can’t do anything about that though. Lionel will just scold me for getting involved with the actors. It’s totally unprofessional for me to be fucking Jackson, of course, regardless of the history between us. So if I try and do anything about Holly, I’ll just be shooting myself in the foot. Fortunately, the crew hasn’t caught wind of any of this yet, and the gossip mill is still silent about my relationship with Jackson. I don’t know how long that’ll last, though. I’m shocked nobody heard me screaming as he fucked me yesterday, though those trailers are pretty soundproofed. Probably for this exact reason. But anyway, I’m on thin freaking ice.

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to think too much about it, because Lionel calls my name and it’s back to work. We have a long day of filming ahead of us, and I’m going to need to keep it together. I’ll just pretend like Holly said nothing and hope that this all blows over soon.

21

JACKSON

“I

heard you visited that studio guy last night,” Holly says to me, and I can already tell that I’m fucked.

I don’t know why Franklin would tell anyone about our conversation, much less let Holly fucking Hart find out about it. Maybe they don’t know how goddamn volatile Holly is, but it’s pretty clear to me that she’s out of her fucking skull. “You mind giving us a sec?” I say to Stacey, the girl doing my makeup for the next scene. I’ve got some fake blood half-drawn on my face and she nods, quickly excusing herself. I’m sure the crew will be talking about this one for the next week. I turn to Holly and stare at her. “Look, you need to understand something. What we have is fake.”

“Sure,” she says, smiling. “Is that why you helped me the other night?” “What are you talking about?” I ask her. “I came to your hotel room wasted, and instead of fucking me like every other guy, you helped me home.” She leans toward me, smiling. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Holy fucking shit. The nicest thing any one has ever done for this girl is not fuck her while she’s basically incapacitated? Holly may be even more messed up than I realized, but I’ll try not to go too deep into that. “Listen, Holly, I did that because I’m not interested in you like that.” She pouts. “You think I’m pretty, right?” “Of course,” I say, which is a fucking mistake. “So then there’s no problem here.” “No, you don’t get it. Just because you’re not ugly, doesn’t mean I want you.” She clearly doesn’t understand that. “You’re just being silly,” she says, trying to be flirtatious. “Holly,” I say, trying to get fucking serious. “I’m not into you. This relationship is fake. I went to

Franklin because I want to get the fuck out of it, not because I like you.” “You’re just confused,” she says to me sweetly. “You wouldn’t do that. Because you know that if you did, I’d tell the paparazzi that you raped and abused me.” Her tone of voice is so sweet. She doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t drop the act, not even for a second, not even when she fucking says that. It doesn’t register as first, because she says it so nicely. But I quickly understand what she’s trying to do. “You’re blackmailing me?” I ask her, incredulous. “No, I’d never blackmail you. I’m just telling you that I need this relationship at this point in my career, and if you keep trying to get out of it, I won’t be happy.” I gape at her before getting it together. “Don’t threaten me,” I say. “Don’t be a pussy,” she responds. “You’re my man now. Might as well fuck me and enjoy it a little.” I get up out of my chair and walk away from her. “When shooting wraps, we’re done. Did Franklin tell you that?” “No,” she says.

“That’s the deal we made. I’ll stay, but I’m not doing anymore public shit with you, and when wrapping is done, we break up.” She goes quiet for a second. “That doesn’t sound acceptable to me,” she says finally, shaking her head. “No, I need you at least until I book my next movie. Might not be until after the premiere.” “Fuck that,” I say to her. “Understand this. You’re nothing to me.” She stands up and smiles, like she doesn’t hear a word I’m saying. “And you understand this. If you mess this up, I’ll cry rape, and you’re finished.” She smiles sweetly, waves, and leaves the trailer. I stand there, staring at the door. I want to fucking break something as rage flows through me, but I don’t know what to do. Holly can fuck me. If she really does come out and claim that I raped her, I would be finished in more ways than one. I’d be done as an actor for sure, but I don’t know how Tara would react to that, either. She doesn’t exactly trust me. She thinks I’m some fucking manwhore who left her on a whim, even though I had to do what I did back then to help my family. She doesn’t know that, of course, and if Holly

suddenly starts saying I’m an abusive rapist… who knows what she’ll do. I’ll be fucking wrecked. I can’t let her get away with this. But I need to figure out what to do first. Holly can snap and say whatever she wants at any moment, and I fully believe that she’ll follow through with this. What a goddamn mess. I try and get myself out of it, but she just keeps sucking me back in. At least now I understand her motivation. She doesn’t care about me at all. This is about her fucking career. I’m a rising star, and she wants to attach herself to me. I can understand that. It’s why she wanted to do this stupid Hollywood relationship to begin with. She wants people to link her with me, and she thinks that’ll help her book better movies and advance her career. It does make sense, but it’s fucked up how far she’s willing to go to make it happen. I can’t come at this half-baked. I need to figure out a plan. I can’t let this girl outflank me and wreck what I’m trying to build with Tara. For today, I’ll play nice and get through filming. But I’m not rolling over and giving up.

22

TARA

L

ong days of filming leave me exhausted, and I need to try and get some sleep.

Except that’s pretty impossible these days. All I want to do is look up rumors and news stories about Jackson and Holly, which is totally an insane thing to do. I can just ask him about it, but I don’t fully trust him yet, although I don’t know why I’d trust the freaking paparazzi. It’s not just the news stories. It’s everything. I keep thinking about what I used to have with him, back in the day. I keep seeing the guy he used to be, and sometimes I see that guy still inside of him. I can tell he’s been through a lot since I last saw him. I mean, he was a freaking Navy SEAL that saw actual combat. I feel like people don’t think about

that nearly enough. He’s a real badass, not like those fake pretty boys that pretend to be tough. The Jackson I knew was always hard, but he has a soft side, and he always showed it to me. I miss that side of him. I miss the way he used to sneak to my house in the middle of the night and throw rocks at my window. It was really cliché, but he didn’t own a cellphone. He’d climb up onto my roof and help me out the window, and we’d sit there together and kiss each other for hours. He’d sneak back home before the sun came up, and we never got caught. At least I assume he never got caught. I know his home life was far from ideal. I’m pretty sure he snuck out to come to my place when his father was blacked out drunk and acting aggressively. I think his whole family would vacate the house when his father got like that. I don’t know how he handled it. I’m not close with my family, but at least they weren’t alcoholics. I try and shut my eyes, try and let sleep come, but my brain just keeps buzzing. I can’t stop seeing the way Jackson used to hold my hand, used to whisper in my ear, used to tell me that we’d get out of town together and never come back. We both got out, but it wasn’t together. Maybe that’s how it goes. Maybe I’m holding him to impossibly high standards. He was a kid back

then, just like me, and he was dealing with some serious shit. Maybe I don’t know why he left me because I couldn’t possibly understand the sort of pressures he was under. He didn’t talk about his father much, but I know that the man was always on his mind, always a part of him. As far as I know, his dad’s still out there somewhere, probably drunk and angry. I roll over onto my side and notice my phone’s screen is lit up. I reach out and there’s a text from Jackson, which is almost spooky. “Need to talk. You awake?” I smile to myself. “I was just thinking about you.” “I bet you were. Hand down your panties, sweat rolling down your skin?” “Not exactly.” I bite my lip as I type. “I was remembering how you used to throw rocks at my window to wake me up.” “We were stupid kids back then. But those were good nights.” “Very true. Anyway, I’m awake.” “Can I come by your apartment?” My heart skips a beat. I never thought I’d actually have Jackson at my place. But if he says he needs

to talk, I can’t turn him down. “Okay,” I say, and send him the address. “Be there in twenty.” Instantly I jump out of bed and get myself together. I don’t want to look like I’m getting too dressed up for him, so I keep it casual, but I fix myself up a little bit. I don’t know why he’s coming over, and part of me thinks this might be a booty call. When I’m done, I head out into the living room to find Laney sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and staring at the television. She’s watching old Power Rangers episodes. “Love this stuff,” she says to me without looking away. “All of my scripts are inspired by the original Power Rangers.” “They’re great,” I say. “Listen, Jackson Hendricks is coming over.” That gets her attention. “Your old flame?” “I mean, sure.” She grins at me. “Are you tapping that again, you ho?” “No,” I say quickly, and feel guilty for lying. “I mean, I don’t know. Just be cool, okay?”

“Please,” she says, her grin enormous. “I’m always cool. Just try and keep it down. I’m doing research.” I roll my eyes and sit down, waiting for Jackson. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Laney grins at me and gestures at the door with her head. “Don’t keep him waiting,” she says. “He’s famous now, you know.” I groan and get up. I cross the room and open the door. Jackson smiles at me as soon as I see him. He’s wearing a simple outfit of a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt, jeans, and leather boots. He almost looks like a biker, except it’s all sleek and expensive and fits him perfectly. “Hey,” he says to me. “Hey yourself.” I can’t help but smile like an idiot. “Hey,” Laney yells from the couch. Jackson looks over my shoulder. “Oh hey, you’re Laney, right?” “Script writer,” she says, looking back at the TV. “Ignore her,” I say.

“Is that the Power Rangers?” he asks. “Yes,” Laney says. “Feel free to join.” He grins and hesitates a second. “Actually, Tara, mind if we go for a little walk? It’s nice out.” “Sure. Laney, we’ll be back.” I leave the apartment and shut the door behind me. “Sorry for coming over like this,” he says softly. “I mean, it’s pretty late, but I had to talk to you.” “It’s no big deal,” I answer. “Things have been pretty crazy.” “You don’t even know the half of it.” He goes quiet as we walk out onto the street and start to head down the block. We’re going slowly, and the sidewalk is empty at this time of night. I live in a pretty nice area, looks like the suburbs basically, though it’s part of LA still. Modest bungalows line the streets along with a strip mall and some random stores. I look up at him and his expression is serious. I don’t know what’s going on, but I suddenly realize that this isn’t a booty call. He’s not here just to sleep with me. Maybe this is his way of throwing rocks at my window again.

“I talked to Holly,” he says finally. “Well, she did most of the talking.” “She talked to me, too,” I admit to him. He raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?” “Threatened me,” I say. “Basically told me she’d get me fired if I don’t back off you.” He groans and shakes his head. “That crazy fucking bitch.” “What’s her deal, Jackson?” I ask him. “I don’t understand this at all. Does she love you or something?” “No,” he says. “She thinks that if we stay attached as a couple that she’ll have an easier time getting a job.” “She’s doing this for her career?” I can’t help but laugh. “That almost makes it worse.” “Either way, she’s serious. I came here to tell you that she threatened to go to the paparazzi with a story about me abusing her and raping her.” My eyes go a little wide. “She what?” “Yeah,” he says. “She’ll tell the world I’m an abusive rapist or some shit if I don’t stay with her until she gets another job.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper. “Jackson, that’s insane. She’s blackmailing you.” “Yeah,” he grunts. “And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.” He stops and faces me, and I turn to face him. “Whatever I can do to help,” I say softly. He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me against him. He kisses me hard, surprising me for a second, but quickly I fall into his kiss. I let myself enjoy it, even if it’s dangerous and stupid to push this thing. Slowly he breaks it off. “I just need you to know… Holly means nothing to me.” “And why do I need to know that?” I ask him. “I want you to trust me again.” I look away, down at the ground. “That’s going to take some time,” I say. “I know.” He tips my chin up and makes me look him in the eye. “But I’m trying. I don’t want anything to do with Holly, but I don’t know how to get out of it.” I look into his eyes, and I believe him. I don’t know what it is about his expression but it’s the most sincere thing I’ve ever seen. I stand up on my toes

and kiss him softly on the mouth, not sure what’s coming over me, and he kisses me back. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll let you try.” “Got any ideas about how I can get out of this with Holly, or am I just fucked?” I shake my head. “No clue. But I know someone who might.” He cocks his head. “Who?” “She’s a little weird and loves the Power Rangers apparently, but Laney’s the smartest person I know. If anyone can help, I bet it’s her.” “You think we can trust her?” he asks me. “This story… if it leaks… it’ll be huge. And Holly will go off.” “We can trust her,” I say. “I trust Laney with everything.” “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go ask her.” We head back to the apartment, holding hands, and I don’t know what that means. But it makes my heart beat fast and it feels good, really good, to have his hand in mine. I’m trying not to overanalyze this moment. I’m trying to enjoy it. We get back to the apartment, and Laney is right

where we left her. Once inside, we sit down and I launch into the story. I tell her the whole thing, about how we’re sleeping together, about his fake relationship with Holly, everything. Jackson adds in any details I don’t know, and when we’re finished, Laney is frowning. “What do you think?” he asks her. “Sounds like a fucking crazy story,” she says. “Can I write a script about it?” He laughs a little. “You can option my story if you come up with a good plan.” Her eyes light up, and I know she’s taking him seriously. “It’s a deal,” she says. “Okay then.” He grins at her and they shake hands. “Give me a few hours,” Laney says. “I think I can come up with a solution to your problem.” “You sure?” I ask her. “Positive. Just leave me to my work.” She grabs her laptop and a pair of headphones. “Don’t bother me until the morning.” “Okay,” I say, but Laney already has the headphones on. She’s tapping away as Jackson and I get up. I’m not sure what to do, so I take him back through the house and into my room.

I shut the door and he looks at me. “She’s weird,” he says with a smile. “But I like her. I can see why you do too.” “She’s pretty great,” I say, suddenly nervous. Jackson is in my room, my actual bedroom. I feel like a teenager again. He looks around, studying my life. “So this is it,” he says. “More CDs than I would have guessed.” “I got into music,” I say. He nods and looks at the pictures on my walls, at the stuff on my bureau, before stopping in front of me. He reaches out and takes my hair, pulling me toward him. My heart skips a beat as I press myself against his body. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in your bedroom,” he whispers in my ear. “Even all those years ago. But now we won’t have to be quiet.” I look at him, eyes wide. “Who says you can do that?” I ask him. “I do.” He smirks and kisses me, and I know he’s right.

23

JACKSON

I

push her down onto the bed and she laughs as I drop to my knees in front of her.

“Back then, we would’ve worried about waking up your parents,” I say to her as I slide her jeans over her hips. “Remember how worried you’d get?” She laughs a little. “I nearly shoved you off the roof that one time.” I grin at her and kiss her inner thigh. “You overreacted. I think it was just a raccoon.” “No way. My dad was awake or something.” I shake my head and kiss her right on top of the panties. She’s wet and I breathe in her smell. “He wasn’t. They never woke up. But you were always

afraid.” She smiles and moans softly. “Ah, uh, I was a stupid kid back then.” “You’re not a stupid kid anymore.” I reach up and slide her panties off. She props herself up on one elbow. “Do you ever wish we could go back?” she asks me. I shake my head slowly. “No, not really. I wish I could do things differently, though.” Her eyes go wide as my fingers slowly find her pussy and press inside of her. “Oh, shit,” she says, leaning back and tipping her head away. “I wouldn’t have waited,” I say to her, pressing my fingers deep inside. “I would have fucked you back then. You have no clue how badly I wanted it.” “Why did you wait?” she asks between breaths. “I wanted it too.” “I know you did.” I grin at her and slide my fingers back out, teasing her clit. “I was a stupid kid, that’s why. I thought we had time. I thought I’d wait until you were a little older. I didn’t want you to have any regrets.” She leans forward again and grabs my hair. “I was old enough,” she whispers.

I grin at her. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter now.” “I was so angry with you.” “I know.” “But mostly I was disappointed. I never got to feel it. I didn’t lose it to you.” “Is that what you wanted?” I ask her. She nods, eyes wide as I continue to tease her. “I’ll make it up to you now,” I whisper. I drop down between her legs and find her pussy with my tongue as I lap up her taste. I suck and lick her clit, savoring the moans that fill my ears as I start to work her. I love her taste and I’m hard as hell as her fingers dig into my hair some more, pressing my face against her pussy. Maybe things didn’t work out back then. But we have another chance now. And I’m not going to let this shit slip through my fingers, no fucking way. Not when she makes me feel like this. I slide two fingers inside of her while I suck her clit, getting a taste of her soaking little pussy. I want to drive her crazy, make her feel good for all the times she felt fucking bad because I was an idiot back when I was younger. I should have done this sooner, I should have given her what she wanted

back then, but I didn’t. And now I’ll make up for it. She grabs my hair harder and pulls me up against her. I slide my fingers out of her and press her down against the covers, kissing her lips. She doesn’t care if she can taste herself, she seems to actually like it as my tongue enters her mouth. I tug up her shirt and pull it off her before she rolls me over and straddles my hips. She unhooks her bra and I feel her full breasts, my cock hard as fuck. I sit up and she yanks my shirt off as I kiss her neck and her nipples. She digs her nails into my back and I grunt, which just makes her laugh. I roll her over again and kneel in front of her. I unbutton my pants and pull them off, slowly sliding my boxer briefs down to reveal my thick cock. She reaches for me but I knock her hand away, stroking myself with one hand and teasing her pussy with my other. She bites her lip as I spread her legs wide. She’s dripping wet, practically drooling for me, and I’m so hard I can barely stand it. I position myself and tease her slightly, slicking along her soaked pussy with my hard cock. She grabs onto the sheets and looks at me like she can’t think. I lean over her, one hand on my shaft, the other

supporting me as I kiss her lips softly. “This is what I should have done years ago,” I say before pressing myself completely inside of her. I slide in deep and it makes her moan. I smother her with a kiss as I fit myself deep into her pussy, making sure she takes every single inch of me. I love how she reacts, with that little gasping moan. She wiggles her hips a little to feel me deep in there, and I know I’m stretching her wide. I slide myself in and out, moving slow at first, kissing her lips deep and hard. There’s an impatience in her, and I know she wants me to fuck her rough, give her that big dick the way she wants it, but I need her to feel it first. I need her to know what I want, how I fucking feel about all this. I grab her hips and her ass and tease her breasts, feeling every inch of her skin, getting to know every single part of her body that I couldn’t know for all these years. I kiss her shoulders and her neck and her chest, biting her nipples as I fuck her slow and deep and rough. I squeeze her hips and she flexes her legs, taking me deep, and I bite her lower lip when she gasps. “This is what you missed all these years,” I whisper to her. “This is what you’ve been dreaming about.” I pull myself out just as she moans and grab her hips, turning her onto her stomach.

I love that sweet little ass. I slap it hard and spread her wide, bending down to lick her. She gasps and I slap her ass again before reaching up and grabbing her hair. I spread that ass wide open and find her dripping little pussy. I rub up against it before plunging deep into her, grabbing onto her hips and fucking her faster. Her little pussy grips me hard as I fill her up from behind. I grab her wrists and pull them back as I slam into her, forcing her to stay still for me. I wreck her, fuck her, destroy her, as we slowly get deeper and deeper into it. I’m covered in sweat when she gets up on her hands and knees, spreading wide for me. I fuck that pussy rough, slapping her ass, savoring the sweet thwack of my palm against her skin. She tosses her hair back and I grab it, pulling her toward me, squeezing her breasts and teasing her nipples. I kiss her as she turns her head and I pump my cock into her tight pussy. She bucks back against me, desperate for every inch. I let her ride it that way, using her strong legs to slam back against me. I slap that ass, watching it move along my dick, and I want to come inside her so badly I can barely breathe. My heart’s hammering for her, pleasure moving through my very core.

I grab her hips and slam into her, forcing her face down into a pillow. I’m so close, and I know she is too. She’s screaming my name as I fuck her deep and hard, begging for more, begging for every inch. I slap her ass again, grab her hair, slam inside of her. She presses up and I feel her whole body stiffen, moans escaping her lips, and I know she’s coming. Her pussy tenses and spasms and her whole body gets behind it. I don’t let up, I’m a filthy fucking animal, and she’s my goddamn woman. I’m going to fuck that cunt until I explode. I come inside of her, a sweaty, messy explosion of pure pleasure. I grab her against me, grunting and sliding inside of her until finally I finish, and we collapse onto the bed. She giggles as I pull her against me. We’re both drenched and breathing heavy but goddamn does it feel good. “Think we woke the neighbors up?” she asks. “Probably,” I say, grinning. “Your roommate heard at least.” “Nah. She can’t hear a thing with those headphones on.” “Too bad. Guess you’ll have to be louder next

time.” She grins at me and cuddles closer. I grab her and pull her tight against my body, wrapping my big arms around her. I feel so exhausted from this shit day, but I don’t want this moment to end. I don’t know what it means that we’re lying here, and I’m falling asleep, but I’m not questioning it. I’ve never felt so fucking comfortable before, and I’m not about to leave this.

24

TARA

I

wake up, a little groggy, and there’s a guy in my bed.

It takes me a second to realize that it’s Jackson. He slept over last night. I can’t believe it. Jackson slept over, in my bed, and we cuddled all night. His body is still against mine, and it feels so good. I snuggle closer to him, not sure what the hell’s happening. He wasn’t drunk and neither was I. We just had sex, and then… we fell asleep. Booty calls don’t normally sleep over. So maybe that wasn’t just a booty call. I watch him sleep for a second, surprised at how vulnerable he looks. He’s breathing deep and slow,

handsome as always, but there’s a softness to him while he’s unconscious. He looks like the teenager I fell in love with all those years ago. I slowly slide out of bed after a few minutes, not able to wait anymore. I use the bathroom and rinse my face off before looking at myself in the mirror. For a second, I see that teenage girl I used to be. I was angry back then, hated everything about my hometown and dreamed about so much more. I wanted to get out, come to Hollywood, and live a life that my parents could never have dreamed of. And I wanted to do it with Jackson. I remember the way I was after he left, so broken and sad. But those feelings don’t feel current anymore. I can’t relate to that anger and that hurt. Those emotions used to be very present for me, the hurt and the betrayal, but now… it feels like just another memory. My anger toward Jackson is gone, and that teenage girl is my past. When I sneak back into the room, Jackson is sitting up in bed. “I thought you were running away,” he says, smiling at me. “No, that’s your move,” I say, surprised that I can joke about it.

He laughs and throws a pillow at me. “Get over here.” I get into bed and crawl up next to him. He kisses me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close. I let him hold me like that, not sure what any of it means. We talk about nothing, mostly just work, and mostly just gossip. He laughs and he makes me laugh, and an hour passes that way. He looks over at the clock and sighs. “We should get going,” he says. I groan. “We have to work, don’t we?” “Lionel will castrate us both if we’re late.” I sigh and get up. “Fine, fine. Do you need to shower or anything?” He shakes his head. “No, I can do all that on set.” “All right.” I hop out of bed. “Let’s get going.” I head into the bathroom and quickly get ready. I take a short shower and I’m dressed and ready to go in record time. I find him idly looking at his phone in bed, fully dressed now, which is disappointing. We walk together back out into the living room and there we find Laney, looking like we never left her.

She looks over at us and takes her headphones off. “What?” she asks. I realize that I’m staring at her. “Did you go to sleep at all?” She shrugs. “What time is it?” “Morning,” Jackson grunts. “Early.” “Oh. Then no.” She goes to put her headphones back on. “Wait,” I say. “Hold on. Did you come up with something?” “I did,” she says, looking smug. “What is it?” Jackson asks, stepping toward her. “It’s a masterpiece, is what it is.” She stands up and turns her laptop around to us. On the screen is a Word document. It’s clearly a script, though I have no clue what it’s about. “That’s your plan?” I ask her. “That’s my script,” she corrects. “You said Holly wants to stay with Jackson until she has another movie, right?” He nods at her. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“So let’s get her another movie. You guys convince her to attach herself to this script.” I stare at her for a second and slowly the plan opens up to me. “That’s genius,” I say. “You have some cachet, so we can probably sell this script. Especially if she’s attached.” “It’s win-win,” Laney says, grinning huge. “She gets another amazing movie to do, and you guys get her off your hands. You just have to convince her to do it first.” “Email that to me,” Jackson “[email protected]”

says.

“Cool email,” Laney says, rolling her eyes. I walk over and sit down next to her as she starts typing away on her laptop again. “Do you think this can work?” I ask her. “Depends on if the big guy over there can sell her on it,” Laney says with a shrug. “It’s possible, though.” “I can do it,” Jackson says. “Script better be good, though.” “Oh, it’s good,” she says. “Really good. Just get her attached to it.”

“I’ll do it,” he says. “Sent.” Laney shuts her laptop lid and yawns. “It’s not totally done yet, but it’s more than enough.” “Works for me,” Jackson says. “You sure you’re okay with this?” I ask him. “Positive.” He grins at me. “I can do anything. I’m an actor and a SEAL, remember?” I sigh and Laney groans. “Either I’m exhausted or that was super lame. Either way, night night, fuck buddies.” She waves and heads off. “Hey, we’re not--!” I call out, but she just slams her door shut. “Not fuck buddies?” Jackson asks, coming up behind me. “No,” I say, not able to stop myself from smiling. “Damn. I guess we’re just the fuck part, then.” “Cut it out. Come on, let’s go to work.” “Yeah, let’s go.” I head over to the door and he slaps my ass as I walk by. “Asshole,” I say.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it,” he says, kissing my neck, and I can’t help but smile. Maybe this can work. Like he said, he can do anything. If he can convince Holly to take this script, she might actually back off. And then what? I don’t know. But I want to find out.

25

JACKSON

I

read the script as Penelope does my makeup for the upcoming scene. It’s an action sequence plus a pretty cool stunt, one we’ve been practicing for the last few days, so I’m pretty amped for it. But I can’t stop thinking about Tara. I should be concentrating on the very dangerous thing I’m about to do in like an hour, but that seems totally unimportant compared to trying to get Holly to take this script. I actually don’t think it’s going to be that hard. The script is good, a little rough since it was written in a single night, but still good. It’s basically a female James Bond, featuring a strong ass female lead. I don’t know how the studios will feel about that, but

I think they’ll be open to it. Superheroes are huge, and Wonder Woman is pretty popular. I can already see how I’ll sell it to Holly. I just have to hope that she’s really as career-obsessed as I think she is. And that she’ll actually honor her deal. Otherwise, I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll wire myself and try to get her to admit to her plan. That way I can use the tape to blackmail her in reverse. But no, that’s super convoluted and complicated. This plan is so much simpler, and it has the added bonus of really getting Holly off my back. If she has another movie to do, I don’t have to worry about her hanging around after this one is finished filming. I don’t want to work with her again. And I’m definitely not working on this new Laney script. Penelope finishes my makeup and I thank her. As she’s leaving, Holly comes in to get her hair done, and we’re alone for a second. I figure this is the perfect opportunity. “You look happy,” she says to me, sitting down in front of the mirror. “I guess I am,” I say. “Why’s that?”

I shrug a little. “Mickey sent me over a script this morning. It’s pretty good.” She perks up. “What is it?” “By the same girl that wrote this movie,” I say. “But I don’t know. I don’t think the part is right for me.” “What’s the part?” she asks. “It’s the main male character, but this movie is like a female James Bond. So I’d be like… arm candy, or some shit. Not really my thing.” She raises an eyebrow. “A female James Bond?” “Sure. All action and strong female empowerment and shit. It’s a really good script, just not really my thing, I guess.” “Huh,” she says, looking into the mirror and clearly thinking. “Sounds interesting.” I have to keep it cool. If I push too hard, she’ll get suspicious. “Too bad I have to turn it down. Mickey thought it would be good for me to get my face out there in a movie like this.” I stand up from my chair and turn toward the door. “Mickey thinks it’s good?” she asks me.

I pause and nod at her. “Yeah, he likes it.” “He has a good reputation,” she muses. “I’ve been thinking about new representation, you know.” “Mickey might be taking on new clients,” I say with a shrug. “I can get you a meeting, if you want.” “You’d do that?” she asks. I hesitate. “Sure,” I say. “Look, you’re a talented actress. I don’t like this situation we’re in, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still be professional.” She looks a little surprised and I don’t blame her. She probably expects me to fucking hate her, like I genuinely do, but fortunately I’m a good actor, too. “That’d be great,” she says to me. “Would you mind… would you mind sending me that script?” Jackpot. I nod slowly. “I will,” I say. “And I’ll get you a meeting with Mickey.” “Great, Jackson. I appreciate that.” “But if you sign on to this and Mickey takes you as a client, we’re finished.” She locks eyes with me and for a second, I think she can see through what I’m doing. I mean, I need to make this play now, and I can’t really wait. But

for a second I think she realizes that this was the plan from the start. “That could be a good deal,” she says after a second. “Get me Mickey and make sure this script has funding. And then we’ll talk.” “Funding?” I ask her. She laughs. “I’m not signing on to some nothing script. Get me a studio and some backing and I’ll do it. Then we can be finished.” I take a sharp breath before nodding. “Fine,” I say. “It’s a deal. I’ll have Mickey call you.” “Great.” She smiles at me sweetly. “See, you’re not so bad, Jacky-boy. If you play ball, I can be nice, too.” I want to kick her in the fucking uterus but I just nod and leave the trailer instead. She fucking drives me insane, but at least we’re getting somewhere. That went pretty well. She didn’t turn me down outright, which is more than I could have hoped for, honestly. Now I have to find some funding for this script and fast. I get out my cell and call Mickey. He answers on the second ring. “Mickey,” I say. “I got some news.”

“Good,” he says to me. “Been a weird fucking day.” “You good?” I ask him. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always good. What’s up?” “Holly Hart is looking for some new representation and I put your name in the running.” I can see the dollar signs appearing in his mind. “That’s fucking awesome,” he says to me. “She’s another up and comer. I think she has potential.” “Good. There’s a catch though.” He groans. “Always a fucking catch.” “There’s this script she likes. She wants you to find some funding for it.” “Funding?” he asks me. “What’s this script? I haven’t heard of any fucking script.” “It’s by the same girl that wrote the movie we’re doing,” I tell him as I head toward set. “She wants to do it, and if you can make that happen, you’re her agent.” Mickey doesn’t respond right away, which surprises me. This seems like a fucking solid deal for him. Get a new, hot actress, and sell a damn movie in the process. He’ll make a lot of money on this.

“Yeah, sure, okay, Jackson,” he says to me. “I can do that. So what’s in this for you?” “If you pull this off, she’ll let me end this stupid fake relationship, and we can get back to doing real work.” Mickey doesn’t say anything again. It’s starting to bother me, these fucking pauses. Mickey isn’t the type to not have something to say right away. “Okay then,” he says to me. “Send over the script. I’ll work my magic.” “Great. Thanks, Mickey.” “Sure, kid. Sure thing.” He hangs up the phone suddenly. I stare down at my cell for a second, a little taken aback. I don’t know why he was so fucking weird just then. Before I can forget about it and move on, the phone starts ringing again. It’s Mickey’s office, and I assume it’s him calling about something he forgot. “What, missed me already?” I say, answering. “Jackson, it’s Von.” He’s whispering, but I recognize his voice. “What’s up?” I ask, getting a bad feeling. This is

getting too weird. “Listen, something’s happening with your movie. Mickey was just in a meeting with that executive and the producer.” The sinking feeling turns into a full-on fucking whirlpool. “What happened?” “They’re talking about killing your movie. It’s looking bad. They like what they see from you but the movie is running over budget and the drama with you and Holly is distracting.” “Fuck,” I say. “How do you know all this?” “Mickey leaves the intercom on sometimes and I don’t remind him to turn it off.” “Goddamn,” I say. Von is one sneaky motherfucker, but I’m very, very glad for it right now. “Look, I overheard what you two were talking about, and he’s not going to do it. Mickey is already starting to write you off.” “Are you kidding me?” I ask him. “I’m sorry, Jackson. If I were you, I’d keep my head down and do my work, and start looking for a new agent.” “That fucking cunt,” I say, angry as fuck.

“You didn’t hear this from me, okay? I like you and think you’re going to be a star if you want to be, so don’t forget about this.” “I won’t, Von,” I say. “Thanks for the heads up.” “Good luck.” He hangs up the phone and I have to lean up against a wall. I feel like my head’s spinning. I can’t believe Mickey would betray me like this. But I don’t see any reason why Von would call me and lie. He’s a good kid, likes to fuck with Mickey, but he’s always been honest and nice to me. He’s risking his career by calling me like that, so I have to think it’s true. That would explain why Mickey was so weird just a minute ago. If he has no intention of selling this script then I’m fucked. Although maybe getting fired from this movie wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If they kill the film, I’ll still get paid for the time I put in, and I can drop this whole Holly bullshit. But my career will be fucking torched. If a film I’m on gets killed and my agent drops me, that’s going to look really, really bad. Nobody is going to want to touch me after this, and although I never pictured myself acting for the rest of my life, I still want to keep it going. I don’t know what the fuck to do. There doesn’t

seem to be a good solution. If I keep pressing forward, I might ruin this whole movie. But if I don’t, I’m stuck with Holly, and that can blow up in my face at any moment. Restless and angry, I head to set. I’m going to put my head down and work, at least for today. But I’m far from giving up.

26

TARA

“I

couldn’t do it.”

I stare at him, not sure what to say. “I don’t understand.” “I think she’s in,” he says slowly. We’re standing close together in the very back of the set, far away from any prying eyes. “But I don’t know if we can go through with it.” “Jackson. What happened?” He hesitates, looking away. “It’s the studio. Apparently they want to kill this movie.” “What?” I can’t believe that. So far, from what I’ve seen, things are looking great. So we’re a little behind schedule and a little over budget, but that’s pretty much average for a big Hollywood film these

days. Budgets are more like fantasies and wish lists. “My agent’s assistant called me up and warned me. I tried to get Mickey to take Holly as a client, and hopefully he’d sell that script in the process, but Von warned me to back off.” “Von?” I ask him. “That’s Mickey’s assistant. He said that the studio is unhappy with the drama and the budget and they’re thinking about killing the whole thing before it gets too far out of hand.” “Shit,” I whisper and bang my hand against the wall. “Those assholes.” “Yeah,” he says softly. “So you see my problem.” If this movie gets killed, a lot of people are going to be out of jobs. The whole cast and crew cleared their schedules for this on the assumption that they’d have months of work ahead of them. People depend on this movie for their livelihood, and although they’ll still get paid for what they’ve done, that future work suddenly disappears. Guys are going to be scrambling. A lot of people depend on this. I don’t think most people realize just how many jobs depend on a big budget movie. Guys need to feed their families, and working on a big movie like this can bring them

some serious financial stability, at least for a year or so. And if we pull it all out from under them? I don’t know what would happen. “So that’s it, you’re just screwed?” I ask him. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I can’t let this movie die. Mickey’s also thinking about dropping me.” I look up at him, shocked. “You’re not serious.” “That’s what his assistant says. I think this whole Holly thing is making him see that I won’t play ball. And Mickey wants clients that play ball.” “I’m so sorry,” I say, pressing myself against him. He pulls me tight to his chest. “Truth is, I never thought I’d like this acting thing. But I don’t think I’m ready to give it up.” “I know,” I say to him. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to sacrifice that much… I couldn’t ask that of you…” He sighs and pulls my chin up toward him. He kisses me softly. “This isn’t over just yet,” he says. “There has to be a way.” “I don’t see how. If you break up with Holly, she smears you. If you keep pushing this script thing,

your agent may drop you and this whole movie could die.” He looks at me for a second and shakes his head. “I can’t let it go. You think I should just roll over?” “No, Jackson, no. But I want you to think longterm. I don’t want you to sacrifice everything just for…” I trail off, not even able to say it. “For what?” he whispers to me. “You know.” “I don’t know.” He looks into my eyes. “Say it.” “For me.” He kisses me softly and I feel a deep chill run down my spine. “I’d do more than that for you,” he says. “You deserve it.” “How?” I ask. “What you did… it was so long ago. I’m not mad about it anymore.” “You should be,” he says. “You don’t even know why I left.” “Why did you leave?” I ask him, finally feeling that stone in my gut begin to loosen. I’ve wanted to ask him that question for so long. He sighs. “I didn’t want to tell you. I thought it

would be easier if I just… disappeared. Clean break. You could move on without me.” “But why?” I ask him. “I don’t understand.” “My mother died not long after I enlisted,” he says. “She got sick long before that. Dad was drinking a lot, not able to take care of her, and I was overwhelmed. Bills were piling up.” He looks away from me, lost in the memory. “My brothers were older, old enough to protect themselves from our father. But we had no money, and I had no way of getting it. Until… until I enlisted. I sent home every single paycheck. Goddamnit, Tara, I didn’t want to leave. But I did it to try and keep my family together.” When he looks at me again, I can see the hate and the pain. He sacrificed so much for his family, despite how awful his father treated him. It suddenly makes so much sense. He didn’t want to leave back then. He never wanted to leave, but he did it because he had to. “She died anyway,” he says, clearly bitter and pissed. “But I was stuck. I had a contract with the military and I couldn’t leave, so I embraced it. I hoped you’d move on and could be happy without me, because you have to understand, I was never happy without you. All that time over there, I was

thinking about you…. remembering what we had together… it kept me going. Maybe that’s fucking lame to admit, but it’s the truth. I never let you go, Tara. It’s why I’m here.” I stare into his eyes and I don’t know what to say. “Is that true?” I whisper. “It’s all true. I never wanted to leave you.” I kiss him hard then. No words can express to him what I’m feeling right now. It’s like every single emotion was both justified and wasted. He didn’t want to leave me, but he had to do it. I was so angry at him for never telling me the truth, and he should have from the start, I would have understood. But he didn’t do it just to break my heart, he did it because he felt like he had to. I can understand that. I can move past that. And he never forgot me, just like I never forgot him. And now here he is, kissing me, holding me the way I want to be held. I press myself tight against him, shoving him back into the wall. The pipes thud around us as I kiss him, suddenly overtaken by an intense desire for him. I reach down and unbuckle his belt, tugging his jeans down over his hips. He grunts and smirks as he pulls my hair back.

“You’re impatient, aren’t you?” he whispers. “I just want to make up for lost time,” I say as I drop down to my knees in front of him. I pull down his boxer briefs and take this thick cock in my hand. He’s so enormous in my palm as I stroke him and try to take him into my mouth. He groans as I suck him deep, letting him shove his cock down my throat. I’m dripping wet and desperate for him as I suck his cock nice and sloppy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before with a man. It’s like I have absolutely no inhibitions, and he doesn’t make me feel self-conscious at all. In fact, just being around him makes me feel sexy. It’s in the way he looks at me, the way he grunts when I touch him. He clearly wants me, clearly needs me. I don’t have to wonder how he feels about me, because I can taste it. He’s hard as hell in my mouth and groaning as I suck him faster. I feel so totally out of control and I absolutely love it. Everything that’s happened up until now seems like a dream. To me, right now, down on my knees, the only thing I care about is making him feel good. I take him deep, not caring about the tears that spring up in my eyes. I suck him faster and deeper,

losing myself in the moment. Suddenly he pulls me to my feet and kisses me. “Fuck, girl,” he grunts, turning me and pressing me against the wall. “I almost came in that pretty mouth.” “Why didn’t you?” I ask him as he presses my chest against the wall. I feel his hands tug at my jeans, pulling them down over my hips, and I know why. “Because I want to come inside this tight cunt, that’s why.” He gets my jeans and my panties down but leaves them around my knees. I’m defenseless and exposed as he bends me over and grabs me by the elbows, pulling them back, flexing my chest. I feel him slide himself inside of me, not wasting a second. We have to get back to work soon, and the set is crawling with crew. Anyone could stumble back on us at any time, and that would be a big freaking deal. But I don’t care, not even a little, as his thick cock slides inside of me. He fucks me rough and fast, knowing what needs to be done. “This pussy is the reason I’m here,” he whispers. “Fucking you is all I need. Fuck the movies, fuck everything. You’re what I need, Tara

girl.” I moan and half-turn to kiss him. Our lips touch as he presses deeper, pumping into me, rocking my whole body. We’re being as quiet as possible but soft, strangled moans escape my lips. I’m starting to sweat, but I don’t care at all. He rips into me faster as pleasure rocks through my whole body, tingling my skin and my toes. I gasp as he bites my lip and presses me back against the wall, fucking me rough. I back my hips up and slam against his cock, taking him as deep as possible, because I need it so badly. As the orgasm builds, I know I can’t stop it. Not after everything that’s happened between us. I need to come with him, need to feel him come inside of me. I gasp as it peaks and suddenly explodes through me, the orgasm ripping through my limbs. I can feel him coming too, his cock shooting deep inside of my pussy in thick spurts. I gasp and moan, dripping and ready for him. I want him buried inside of me, I want to feel him dripping out of me later today. Slowly we finish together and he turns me around, kissing me deep and slow. We get dressed in silence then. He leans up against

me, pulling me close. “What do we do?” I ask him in a whisper. “I don’t know. But let’s just enjoy this, right here, at least for now.” I nod my head and breathe his smell in deep. He’s right, we don’t know what’s going to happen from here. And maybe I’m being stupid, letting myself fall back into this like I am, but I can’t help it. Everything he’s said, everything he’s done, I can’t help but start to see that it’s all sincere. It’s all real. That’s Jackson. He’s the most real man I’ve ever met. Nothing is an act with him, even though he’s an actor. Nothing is fake. What he says, he means, and he doesn’t play games. He made a mistake so many years ago, when we were dumb kids, but he did it for a noble reason. He sacrificed his life for his family. I admire that. I really, really do. I wish he had told me back then, because maybe I would have helped him out. I don’t know if we could have worked together with him in the military, but at least I could have helped his family as much as possible. Instead, I totally ignored them, and I do feel a little guilty now. It’s not his fault. We’re just two kids that got

screwed. But now he’s back and he’s trying to make up for it. I want things to work. I want him to take me to all the places I’ve been too scared to go. For now, I’m letting go and giving in to him.

27

JACKSON

M

ickey lives in the same house that all these Hollywood assholes do. It’s big, it’s white, and it’s fancy as hell. It’s even a little over the top and absurd, but that’s what they want. It’s all show. It’s all bullshit. I’m angry and I won’t deny it. I know it’s stupid to show up at his house like this, with his wife and his kids here, but I’m not waiting anymore. I kept my mouth shut all day. I did my scenes and kept working. But I didn’t stop thinking. I ring Mickey’s bell and a minute later, his wife answers the door. She’s thin, pretty, with auburn hair and full lips.

“Jackson,” she says, a little surprised. “Hey, Marla.” I kiss her cheek. “Is Mickey around?” “Sure, he’s out back by the pool. Come on in.” “Thanks so much.” I follow her through the house. Mickey brought me here when he first signed me. Back then, he sat me down on the couch in his living room, gave me a glass of whisky, and he asked me what family meant. I told him family meant sacrifice and loyalty. He said he agreed. He said he’d sacrifice for me, and he’d always be loyal to me, if only I wanted to join his family. That wasn’t so long ago, but I bought his bullshit, utterly and completely. Maybe I’m stupid for being trusting, but you can’t get anywhere in this world without trusting some people. I thought Mickey was one of those people, but maybe not. I keep my anger in check, at least until we get out back. Mickey’s alone out there, his children nowhere to be seen. He’s sunning himself, the fucking bastard, and smoking a cigar. In fact, he looks pretty at peace and content, despite the fact that my shit is in shambles. “Mickey,” I say, walking out toward him. His wife

shuts the door softly behind me. He sits up, surprised. “Jackson, baby, what’re you doing here?” “We need to talk.” I walk over and stand over him, my arms crossed. I can see a little fear in his expression, and I don’t blame him. I’m a big man. I could tear him to pieces with ease. “What’s going on? You don’t normally make house calls.” “Only in special circumstances.” He smiles and laughs nervously. “You’re freaking me out here, kid.” “Mickey, do you want to fuck me?” He hesitates. “You’re pretty and all, but I have a wife.” “So you don’t want to fuck me?” “No, Jackson. I don’t.” “Weird. Because I’m pretty sure you do, considering you’re lubing up my asshole.” He laughs nervously again. “What are you talking about?” “I know you want to drop me. I know the studio is

thinking about killing Brutally Dishonest.” He stares at me, clearly surprised, but he doesn’t deny it. I want to kick him in his rat face but I know I can’t do that. I have to keep my anger under control or else I’ll lose it all for nothing. “Why?” I ask him. He sighs. “You know why, Jackson.” He leans over and picks up his cigar, puffing away. “Let me ask you something. Why do you want to do this?” “Be an actor?” I shrug. “I don’t really.” “Exactly. That’s exactly why I want to drop you.” “Because I don’t care about this job?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’ve done plenty of jobs that I didn’t want to do.” “But this isn’t like that. Jackson, this world takes sacrifice and commitment. There’s a new guy coming up every single day and if you don’t work your ass off to compete, you’ll disappear.” “And you think I can’t hack it,” I say. “You absolutely can,” Mickey replies, exasperated. “Sit down, damn it. You’re freaking me out.” I hesitate a second before sitting on the end of the chair next to him. He sighs and puts his cigar back

down. “Look, Jackson, you gotta play the game. The studio wants you to jump, you fucking do a backflip. Some producer wants his dick sucked, you choke on that cock. Know what I mean? You have to be willing to get down and dirty for this thing.” “And I’m not,” I say simply. “That’s right. You’re not.” I can’t deny that he’s right. As soon as I was asked to do something that I didn’t want to do, I tried to fight it tooth and nail. Even when the studio tried to give me the benefit of the doubt, and Mickey told me what to do, I just ignored them and kept fighting. I made their lives harder instead of easier, and this business doesn’t take kindly to that. I can’t deny him that. “But still,” I say. “You said we’d be family.” “So the fuck what? You said you’d do whatever I told you to do, and you didn’t. We both broke promises.” I sigh. He’s right about that. I did tell him I’d listen to his counsel. “Still, Mickey, you’re going behind my back. You could have come to me like a man.” “Hell no, I couldn’t have. You’re not being rational

these days. I mean, going to a studio exec’s house? That’s crazy shit, Jackson.” “So what now?” I ask him. “You’re dropping me and the movie’s dead?” “No,” he says. “The movie might die. And I might drop you. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But you’re not doing yourself any favors coming to my house and trying to intimidate me here.” I watch him for a second and I realize that I’m disappointed. I realize that I wanted him to drop me. I wanted him to get rid of me, because that would mean that I’d be done. I wouldn’t have to keep being an actor anymore. And that makes it all clear for me. Yes, I want to keep doing this job, but I also know I won’t sacrifice for it. I’ll do it on my terms or not at all, but that won’t work. I can’t make those two things happen. If I want to do this, I have to play the game right. I look at Mickey and I smile. “Sorry, man,” I say, standing up. “What?” he asks. “I just realized something. I think you should drop me.”

“You’re kidding?” “No, you’re right. I’m not willing to do whatever it takes for this. I’m not willing to bend over backwards or suck dicks to become famous. I just want one thing, and I think I can have it.” He watches me for a second. “A girl?” he asks. I grin. “The best one.” “Fine,” he says. “Do what you have to do. But don’t blame me if it all goes to shit.” “I won’t. But I need one more favor.” He groans. “What?” “Where’s Harold? I need to talk to him.” “He’s on vacation last I heard,” Mickey says, grabbing his Blackberry. “I think he’s in fucking Mexico or some shit.” “Find out where exactly and tell me,” I say, heading back for his door. “What the fuck are you going to do?” “Sell him on a script and get my girl,” I say, grinning at Mickey. He sighs and shakes his head, but he doesn’t turn me down. I leave his house and head back out to

my car, grinning my head off. I know what I need to do now. It’s so obvious. There’s only one reason that I came to this town and got into this gig, and that’s for Tara. But now this acting shit is getting in our way, so it’s time to call it. I have plenty of fucking money now, so I won’t have any trouble finding ways to make more if I want. I don’t need to keep doing this. It’s time to sacrifice. Mickey’s right, the things you love and want demand everything from you, and I’m willing to give it. I’m just not willing to give it to acting. But for Tara, I’ll do anything. So I’ll sell this script, make Holly happy, and get the fuck out while I can. There’s no stopping me now.

28

TARA

J

ackson doesn’t come to work for three days.

It’s like my worst nightmare. Production doesn’t stop, fortunately, since there are scenes that we can shoot without him, but everyone is pissed off. The studio is oddly silent about the whole thing, which makes me think they know what’s going on. Lionel curses in German constantly, basically railing on Jackson and talking about how awful he is to work with. I can’t really blame him. Holly is oddly quiet, though she does commiserate with the crew. Mostly, people are confused, since it doesn’t seem like Jackson to just up and disappear. I feel betrayed again. It’s like the old feelings are

suddenly coming through again. I finally got rid of them, finally felt like I was moving on, but now it’s all creeping back. I’ve been staying up late with Laney watching bad TV and trying to ignore my problems, but I can’t ignore this. He won’t answer his phone. It goes straight to voicemail every time I try to call. For two days, I call over and over, until I finally give up, feeling like such a fool. Jackson doesn’t want to be found, and if he did, he’d answer his damn phone. I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I did this to myself. I should never have let him back into my life. I should have seen this coming. As soon as things get real, Jackson runs away. I’m starting to even question the story he told about his mother being sick and needing to pay for her medical bills. Maybe that’s partly true, but he probably did it to get away from me, too. Work is dull and lifeless. I try to concentrate on what’s happening in front of me, but I can’t. Two days pass like that, but I don’t let myself cry. At least, I don’t let myself cry at work. At home, I’m a damn mess, and Laney almost doesn’t know what to do with me, poor girl. She’s not equipped to handle someone seriously depressed. This is my worst nightmare come true. I knew things were bad for Jackson, that he felt like he was

cornered and had no way out, but I had no clue he’d actually run away. We could have done something else, figured out another way. Or he could have just stayed in that fake relationship. But that’s not Jackson. He doesn’t do fake, and he doesn’t compromise. He’s stubborn and hardheaded and when things get tough he runs away, leaving me heartbroken and alone. I don’t know what to do. On day three of his disappearance, I go to work as always, and Lionel is just as salty as he has been since Jackson went away. “Damn actors,” he says to me in his heavy accent. “Damn stinking actors. No good stinking damn shithead bastard actors. I hate them all, Tara, yes? You know this? I hate all the fuckers.” He slams his fist down on his desk. “They’re the worst,” I say in response but my heart’s not in it. Lionel gives me a strange look. “Are you okay?” he asks me. “You’ve seemed… off. Sad, maybe. Moping around.” “I’m fine,” I say, looking away. I’m surprised he even noticed. He steps toward me with a strange expression.

“Sometimes life fucks you. But listen to me, Tara. You must fuck it back. Yes? You must always fuck it back.” I meet his gaze and I can’t help but smile. That sounds so profound and so hilarious coming from him. “Okay,” I say. “Good.” He pats my head like a little kid, which normally would be weird, but I let it slide. “Let’s get to work.” And so I do. I get to work. We film a few scenes of extras, a few tracking shots and scenery things, basically whatever we can do that doesn’t involve Jackson. Holly goes through a few sequences and we do a few shots of the villain and his crew. And for a little while, I forget about Jackson. Or at least I don’t feel the hurt so deeply inside of me for a little bit. I can lose myself in work and invest myself in what I’m doing, because I’m damn good at what I do. Maybe my title is lame, but I’m important on this set, and I earned that spot. Lionel calls lunch and I find myself eating alone in a remote corner of the set. There’s fake wreckage strewn all around me, since we’re filming a plane crash sequence this afternoon. I’m sitting on a big piece of luggage that’s filled with rocks, so it weighs a damn ton.

As I’m eating, I spot Holly picking her way through the wreck. I look down, hoping she’ll pass me by and ignore me, but I’m not that lucky. “Script girl,” she calls out. “I want to talk to you.” I groan and look up. I force a smile on my face, because I still have to work with her after all. “What’s up?” I ask. “Where’s Jackson?” I shrug a little. “I don’t know. I thought you did.” “Nope. I figured he just went on a damn bender, but it’s been three days now and he’s not back.” “Jackson doesn’t go on benders,” I say. “Whatever. Aren’t you his girlfriend or some shit?” “No,” I say softly, shaking my head. “We were just friends a while ago.” She makes a face. “That’s not what he said.” She sighs and stares at me. “This is annoying as fuck, you know? He said he had a script for me and now he’s just gone.” “I don’t know what to tell you.” “This is your fault,” she says. “You scared him away somehow. Jesus Christ, you know, you’re

such a fucking pathetic bitch. Now I’m not getting that part, all because you couldn’t hold on to your man.” I stare at her and slowly put my food down on the ground beside me. I get up and walk over to her. Holly is about three inches taller than me, but anger flows through me like I’ve never felt before. “What?” she asks, sneering at me. “Did I piss you off?” I swing my hand back and slap her right across her smug, stupid face. “Fuck you,” I say. “You’re the psycho bitch here. Everything Jackson’s been doing has been to get away from you. Leave him the fuck alone.” She stares at me, wide-eyed and shocked. “You hit me.” “I’ll do it again if you come near me, you cunt.” I don’t think I’ve ever called a woman a cunt before, much less slapped someone, but damn does it feel good. I’ve wanted to hit Holly for a while now. I hate her smug face and how crazy she is. She’s the epitome of entitled bitch actress and I’m so tired of dealing with her shit. I wish I could hit her some more, beat the crap out of her, really take my anger out on her,

but I know this is probably a huge mistake. I probably just ensured I’d get fired from this set. Holly can easily complain about me and get me thrown off set, maybe even destroy my career. She backs away from me. “You’re crazy.” “Don’t fuck with me,” I say to her. “Get your shit together and do your job.” She just shakes her head, turns, and quickly walks away. I stare at her as she recedes and disappears into the trailers before I curl up on the ground, my back against the suitcase, and I cry. I’m so stupid. I kept it together for so long, but now I just screwed myself. I’m going to lose my job and I’ve already lost Jackson for a second time. I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is the lowest moment of my life. I hate Jackson for disappearing on me again and I hate myself for being so weak to let it happen. Now I just slapped Holly in the face, and while that felt freaking awesome, I really shouldn’t have done it. After a quick cry, I finish my meal, and I get my shit together. I might as well be ready to go when she gets me thrown off the set. But Lionel calls everyone back to action, and I don’t hear a peep from Holly. The rest of the day

passes and I’m just waiting for the axe to fall, but it never does. Holly doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t acknowledge me. In fact, it feels like she’s a little afraid of me. And I don’t get fired, which seems like a damn miracle. When the day finally ends, I’m starting to feel like maybe Holly isn’t going to get me thrown off this movie. Maybe everything is going to be okay, or at least I’ll dodge one more disaster. I lock the script up and get my things to head home. I’m not looking forward to sitting on the couch and moping all night again, but I don’t know what else to do. Maybe I’ll go out somewhere, try and forget about all this. As I pass back through the trailers, I hear someone call my name. I look up and spot Holly waving at me. My stomach fucking sinks. I hesitate a second, and I think I might just run away. I think I might just get the hell out of there and never look back. Maybe I can disappear like Jackson did. Instead, I start walking toward my fate. I’m going to face it, whatever it may be. “What’s up?” I ask her, knowing full well what’s

happening. But she doesn’t seem angry. “Come in here,” she says. “Someone wants to see you.” She steps back into the development trailer. There’s a little conference room in there, so I have to figure that she called in Human Resources or something, and I’m about to get fired. I follow her inside, taking a deep breath. No more running. No more hiding. I’m facing what’s next.

29

JACKSON

T

he plane lands, and although I’m exhausted, I can’t stop smiling.

I turn my phone on and find a ton of messages. I guess people were pretty pissed when I left, but I didn’t expect to be gone for that long. I figured I’d fly out to Cancun, meet with Harold, convince him to back this film, and fly back. But instead, he was fucking stubborn, and it took me longer than I wanted. I frown at the calls from Tara. She must have been pretty upset. I call her back, but this time her phone goes to voicemail, which makes sense. They have to turn their phones off and store them during filming to fight against leaks. I get off the plane, grab a taxi, and head toward the

set. I check my watch and it’s close to the end of the day, so they should be shutting down filming soon. I bet Lionel and the whole crew are pissed as hell about all this, but I know it’ll be okay. I get to set and head inside. A few of the crew guys seem surprised to see me, but that’s okay. They probably thought I was dead or something. “So you’re back.” I turn around and spot Holly standing by a vending machine. She crosses her arms and walks toward me. I’m surprised but I’m actually happy to see her. “I’m back,” I say to her. “Is everyone mad?” She shrugs. “Pretty much. Your girlfriend slapped me in the face.” “Tara?” I ask. “That’s right. Went nuts for no reason.” She grins. “I kind of like her.” I can’t help but grin back. I don’t know what happened but I wish I could have seen it. Seems crazy that Holly would like her more for slapping her in the face, but that’s just Holly. She doesn’t make sense and I’m sick of trying to figure it all out.

“Listen, we should talk,” I say to her. “It’s about your movie.” She perks up. “Really?” “Really,” I say. “Come on.” I walk quickly over toward the development trailer with Holly in tow. It’s empty, which is good. Holly sits while I grab an extra laptop and open it up. I dial the number in Skype that Harold gave me, and a minute later he answers. “Jackson?” he asks. “You there already?” “I’m here,” I say. “Holly’s in the room.” “Okay. Let me see her too.” I put the laptop down and move around to sit next to Holly. Harold is still in Cancun, a little sunburnt and wearing a large floppy hat. He’s inside his hotel room, and probably annoyed that I’m interrupting his vacation yet again. It took me half a day to find him, and when I did, Harold was pissed. He was not happy that I was ambushing him about work, and he basically blew me off. I had to be persistent. It took another day to finally see him again, and then I made him an offer he

couldn’t refuse. Not the mafia-style kind, but the kind that makes him a lot of money. “Okay, here’s the deal,” he says. “I’m making this quick because I want to get back to drinking tequila and trying to fuck my wife. You two listening?” “I’m listening.” Holly says. “It’s good to see you, Harold.” “Sure, whatever,” he says. “Look, here’s the deal. Jackson there is apparently obsessed with getting you a movie, obsessed enough to nearly ruin my vacation over it.” Holly glances at me and I shrug. “But he said something interesting. In exchange for funding this movie and getting the studio to take it on, Jackson is going to work on Brutally Dishonest for free. Isn’t that right, Jackson?” “That’s right,” I say. “You can keep your millions of dollars.” Holly stares at me, clearly shocked. “Jackson, that’s too much,” she says. “It’s the deal I made,” I grunt at her. “And we’re not going back on it,” Harold says, clearly annoyed. “No, we’re not,” I confirm. “You want this movie, right, Holly?”

She nods. “I want it.” “Good,” Harold says. “So it’s going to happen with you attached. Jackson’s working for free, I’m saving some serious fucking money, and we’re all happy. Okay? Can I send over the fucking papers for you to sign, Holly?” “Send over the fucking papers, Harold,” she says. “Send them to Mickey Rains.” I stare at her but I don’t say shit. Fuck Mickey, that rat bastard. “Okay. And Jackson, your last stipulation still stands. Brutally Dishonest will be made, and I won’t retaliate against you. Oh, and the fake relationship fucking bullshit can be over, goddamn that was such a pain in the ass. And frankly, the media doesn’t give a fuck at all.” I look at Holly again and she shrugs. “Fine, consider us broken up,” she says. “Great. Now I’m going back to vacation. Mickey’ll get the papers soon. I hope I never speak with you again, Jackson. And Holly, we’re going to make a lot of money together.” “Yes, we are,” Holly says. “Adios, amigos,” Harold says and kills the Skype

connection. I lean back in my chair and grin at her. “So it’s done,” I say. “We’re broken up.” She shakes her head, totally mystified. “You just gave up a lot of money,” she says. “And you’re stuck still working on this movie for months. All for what?” “All to try and make up for a mistake I made a long time ago,” I say. “You’re something else, Jackson Hendricks.” She grins at me. “I should have locked you down sooner.” “You had no chance. Now go away. I’m calling some agents to try and find new representation. And I’m dumping your ass.” “Fine by me.” She stands and heads to the door. Before she can leave, she calls out Tara’s name. I sit up straight. She was the next person I was going to find once this was all straightened out. I’m sure she’s pissed and I don’t know what to say to apologize, but I don’t have a choice. Tara walks into the room, looking a little pale. I stand up as soon as she enters. “I’ll leave you two kids alone,” Holly says, and

leaves. Tara stares at me and I stare back. “Hey,” I say finally. “You asshole,” she says softly. I walk toward her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the country. I couldn’t call.” “You could have emailed. You could have done a million things.” I walk toward her and stop close. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I had to do it, but I wasn’t leaving you.” I smirk at her. “I hear you hit Holly.” She cocks her hand back and slaps me right across the face. It stings, but I know I deserve it. “Just like that,” she says. “You asshole. You left me again without a word.” I turn back to her, hanging my head. “You’re right,” I say. “But don’t you want to know where I was?” “Fine, I’m listening.” And so I tell her everything. I start with Mickey and I end with the Skype conversation I just had. By the time I’m done, we’re both sitting down at the conference table, and her mouth is hanging open.

“Did you seriously just sacrifice that much money?” she asks me. “I did,” I admit. “But I still have a ton left over. And I’m not out of the game.” “Jackson…” She trails off, shaking her head. “That’s insane.” “Holly won’t be an issue now,” I say. “She won’t blackmail me. In fact, she seems really happy. The producers and the studio aren’t going to blacklist me, though Mickey is still dead in my eyes. So I have to work for free on this piece of shit, so what? Holly and I are broken up, for real this time.” Tara stares at me and for a second, I think she’s going to cry, but she looks away instead. “You’re such an idiot.” “I’m sick of living a lie,” I say to her, moving closer. I tip her chin toward me. “You understand that, right? I’ve lived a lie for so long now, but I’m finished.” “You can’t do that again,” she says. “Seriously, I thought you left me all over. I was…” She trails off. “I know,” I say. “Tara, I love you. I’m never going to leave again. It’s over. We can do this for real.” Her eyes go slightly wide and I kiss her before she

can say anything. I don’t want to hear her respond. I just want her to know that I love her, that I’ve loved her for so long now, and I’ll do anything in the world to make things right. I’ll sacrifice anything, I’ll move any mountains, I’ll do what I have to do to make her happy. I’m done fucking around. I’m done running away. I’m done going for things that aren’t important. Tara is important. She’s all that I need. I break the kiss off and she smiles. “I love you too, idiot.” I grin at her. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave again.” “You better not.” I stand and pull her up, kissing her. I press her against the wall, feeling her body, and I know things are going to be okay. I take a second to lock the door before doing what I need to do. Maybe I could have done things differently. Maybe I could have found another way that didn’t sacrifice my paycheck, but money means nothing. In the end, Tara is all that matters to me, and I’m going to have her for the rest of my life. No more running. No more games or bullshit. I’m going to live honestly and truly, and the only way to

do that is to be with Tara. I know I can’t do anything else. When I taste her, down on my knees, I know nothing else can taste so sweet for me. And I never want it to.

30

TARA TWO YEARS LATER

T

he theater is dark and I feel Jackson squeeze my hand as the screen lights up. I smile at him, surprisingly nervous, as the title rolls onto screen:

BRUTALLY DISHONEST FINALLY, the movie we’ve been waiting so long to see. It took about a year to film and another year of post-production before it was finally ready, but here we are, sitting in an LA theater at the premiere, and I have no clue if it’s going to be good or not. After Holly backed off Jackson, things went smoothly. It sucked that he wasn’t getting paid, but

at least the movie was surprisingly fun to make. I mean, it was fun because Jackson was there with me, and we snuck off together to have sex or just talk every single spare moment we had. I think we fucked on every surface of that set more than once, and it was glorious. Maybe a little irresponsible, but I think that made it even more exciting. Jackson found another agent. And true to their word, the studio and his producer didn’t mess with his career. Sure, they’re not likely to work with him again, but at least they’re not actively trying to destroy him, which some people do. I’ve seen it happen before. But no, not now, not with Jackson. Holly behaved and the movie went on. The production crew all got a nice little bonus because of the money that Jackson gave up, and that just made him even more popular with everyone, since he made sure they knew where it was coming from. The media ate it up that he sacrificed his salary for the crew, or at least that was the story his new PR woman decided to spin. After we wrapped shooting, he booked another movie right away. Part of his contract included a job for me, so we both traveled all over the globe filming this on location, and it was amazing. But now we’re back in LA watching the movie that

started it all. I reach to the other side of me and grab Laney’s hand. She grins and winks at me, cool as a cucumber. She doesn’t care if this movie is good or not, since she’s sold a couple more scripts since this one, along with the Holly film. Which makes me remember, Holly is nowhere to be seen. I grin to myself and whisper to Jackson. “I wish Holly could be here,” I say. “I don’t.” He grins and kisses me softly. “I’m sure she loves Death Valley.” I snicker just as the movie starts. Holly’s face appears on screen, and I’m totally delighted to think about her sweating her ass off in the most uncomfortable location in the world, filming a totally absurd and over the top farce. As it turns out, Holly didn’t read the script at all before signing on to it. While it is about a James Bond-type female character, the whole movie is goofy and silly, totally outside of her range, and I hear she’s really struggling with it. Not to mention Laney purposefully set it in Death Valley to make sure that she’ll have the most uncomfortable time on this movie as possible. In the end, Holly got what was coming to her: a shitty

job on a movie that doesn’t suit her at all, and I suspect she’s not long for acting. Brutally Dishonest begins, and it’s about what I expected. Lots of action, lots of excitement, and of course Jackson is incredible in it. The movie is just okay, it’s a big action blockbuster, but that’s exactly what we needed it to be. When the ending credits roll, the whole house claps enthusiastically, because everyone knows this thing is going to make millions. “What did you think?” Jackson asks me as we filter out of the theater. “It was perfect,” I say, kissing him again. “You didn’t think it was cheesy?” “Not at all.” I pause. “Well, a little bit, but it was supposed to be.” He grins and kisses me again as a thick German accent calls Jackson’s name. “Hello, Lionel,” he says, shaking the big director’s hand. “You were wonderful, very good, just what we needed. And to do it for free, I say, you are a crazy man.” Jackson grins. “High praise, coming from you.”

“Yes, well. You want to make more movies, you come to me, okay?” “Okay.” Lionel pats his back and strides off. “Weird guy,” I say. “Yep,” Jackson agrees, laughing. We spend the rest of the reception shaking hands and catching up with crew we haven’t seen since the movie wrapped. We won’t see most of these people again, unless we work with them on a film or something, but it’s nice to see them all. “We have to catch a flight tomorrow morning,” Jackson says to Paul, the lighting guy. “We’re filming some scenes on location in New Zealand.” “Damn, man,” Paul says. “Isn’t that Middle Earth?” “Absolutely it is,” I chime in. “Middle Earth?” Jackson asks. “You know, man, Lord of the Rings. Hobbits and shit.” Paul grins at him. “Oh, yeah,” Jackson says. “Sorry, I was too busy fighting bad guys to read much.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You always say that.” “It’s always true.” I laugh and we move on, chatting with more people, trying to make connections. I never in a million years thought I’d be dating a real star, let alone be back with Jackson. And true to his promise, he hasn’t left me. Not even for a second. We’ve been inseparable, and it feels like we finally picked up where we left off when we were kids. That incredible feeling is back, every single day. “It was another masterpiece, huh?” Laney smiles at us over a glass of champagne. “Beautiful,” I say to her, laughing. “Made me look pretty cool which is all I ever ask,” Jackson responds. “I hear you look pretty cool in your latest,” Laney says. “We’re trying.” He shrugs a little bit. “Seriously, Laney, I need to thank you again for what you did,” I say. “I didn’t do a thing,” she says, waving her hand. “I just wrote a script and sold it. Just so happens to

have worked out for you guys.” “Still, you made that happen. We owe you one,” Jackson says. “Nah. You made it all happen. I just wrote the thing.” I laugh and hug her. “Come visit us,” I say. “We’d love to have you.” “I will soon,” she says. “Right now, I just saw a cute waiter boy that’ll be very impressed by a nerdy writer like me. Excuse me, folks.” She grins and heads off. I know I’ll be seeing her again soon. I’ll never be rid of Laney, and that makes me happier than I can explain. I have another glass of wine and I feel good as Jackson chats everyone up. I love being near him. He makes me feel so much better about myself than I ever could have imagined. Nights like this remind me how lucky I am to have him. He looks incredible in his tuxedo, like it was built just for his muscular, enormous body. He catches me looking at him and gives me that same familiar grin, the same one he’s always had, ever since I first fell in love with him all those years ago. Slowly the reception ends and people begin to filter out. There are media people outside doing

interviews, and it’s like a second late night red carpet. Lights and cameras flash as we step out into the madness. “There’s one more thing before this night ends,” Jackson says to me. “It might embarrass you, though.” I raise an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?” He grins and pulls me by the hand into the middle of the madness. Once we’re there, he locks eyes with me and drops down to one knee. “Jackson,” I say, my eyes going wide, my heart beating fast. I don’t know what’s happening, how this is happening, but there are cameras flashing like crazy and there’s a circle of people around us. “I love you more than I can imagine,” Jackson says. “I told you I’d never leave again, and now I want to make that real. Tara, will you marry me?” I stare at him for a second. “Yes,” I manage to say through my tears. He laughs and slides a ring on my finger. It fits perfectly, and it’s big, shiny, shockingly shiny, too beautiful. I look at him and he stands, takes me into his arms, and kisses me. Applause breaks out in the crowd as people cheer

and take pictures. I can barely hear them though because my heart is beating so loud in my ears and Jackson is everything. “I love you so much,” I say to him. “I know you do.” He grins and we kiss, and I know that I’m home. We’ll travel, make movies, have kids, have a life. We’ll be together forever, because he’ll never leave me again. I know that now, without a doubt in my mind. He won’t be going anywhere, and that’s exactly what I need. Right here, right now, with Jackson, forever.

VIRGIN’S DADDY: A DARK ROMANCE

PROLOGUE: SADIE

M

y heart hammers and I’m nervous, so freaking nervous, though I know I don’t need to be. Gavin knows what he’s doing. I can see it in the way he moves and the way he speaks to me. Maybe it’s my first time, but it definitely isn’t his. Streetlights send shadows up through the windows in his penthouse apartment, making the night feel deep. Gavin smirks as he runs his hands down my hips, along the length of my dress. They reach the hem and stop, pressing lightly against my skin. “Is this what you imagined?” he whispers in my ear. I shake my head lightly. “Not at all.”

He slowly lifts the hem of my dress. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not supposed to be around Gavin at all. If my family found out what I was doing, they’d disown me and throw me away like trash. But I don’t care. I want this man so badly that I can barely stand it. “You’re sure you want to give yourself to me?” he asks softly, his lips gently grazing my neck. “Yes,” I gasp as his fingers finally find my soaking spot. “Good,” he says, taking a handful of my hair. “Because I want to teach you.” “Teach me?” I gasp. He grins. “You’ll see.” His fingers slide beneath my panties, rubbing up against my soaking pussy. I can barely think. I don’t know what I’m doing, why I’m finally giving myself to someone. I barely know this man, but I’m sure this is right. He’s older than me and very rich, but he’s trouble. My family would call him low-class, even if he does have as much money as they do or more. I’m from an old family, a very rich and wealthy

family. We’ve been in this city from its start, and we can count senators, mayors, and business magnates among our venerable ancestors. Or at least that’s what my parents say. Recently though, we haven’t earned a thing. We inherit our wealth and run the family business because it’s what’s expected. My brothers will be the businessmen, and I’ll marry some other rich eligible bachelor to ensure that the family line continues. I didn’t ask for this life. I don’t even know if I want it. But Gavin couldn’t be more different. Everything he has, he earned through hard work and intelligence. He came from nothing but now he’s something. He has experience. He has control. He is a confident and capable person, and I find that overwhelmingly attractive. Attractive enough to throw it all away. Just for one night of pleasure. Which is probably more than I could have ever expected if I continued along my previous path. His rough hands trail along my soft skin and his lips are firm against mine. I feel a thrill run through me

as he pulls off my dress. I love the way he looks at me. Like he’s starving for my body, like he can’t get enough. I want him to keep staring at me, but I know he’ll have to take his eyes away if we’re going to do what I want to do. He presses me against the wall-length glass and pins my hands above my head. I’m mostly naked, standing above the city. I’m more exposed than I’ve ever been before, the good rich virgin girl being pressed against this window. That thought only makes me more excited. “I’ll be gentle,” he says. “Do you have to be?” His smirk drives me wild. “At first. But soon. Very soon.” His thumb trails along my bottom lip. “Soon you’ll be down on all fours, begging for my thick cock.” As my teeth come down on the skin of his thumb, I know he’s right, and I can’t wait.

1

GAVIN

I

like charity.

Not a lot of guys in my position do, unless “charity” is the name of a stripper. Most guys, when they get as rich as I am, they just want to hold on to their wealth as much as possible. But to me, that’s so shortsighted and foolish. We’re all in this world together. Might as well help some people. Besides, I remember what it’s like to struggle. I remember going to bed without dinner because my parents could only afford one meal a day. I remember the struggle, the stress, and the fucking pain of having nothing at all. I remember all the time and effort I put into getting something, and I wish someone had helped us back then. Most guys

like me, they didn’t come from absolutely nothing. They don’t know what it’s like to really want for the basics. So charity is my thing. I have money, a lot of it, and I can afford to give some away. Which I do, as liberally as possible, sometimes too much if you want to listen to my business manager. But these rich ass, upper crust charity events, these aren’t usually my thing. As I walk into the banquet hall, I keep to the edges of the room after grabbing a glass of whisky from the open bar. Fortunately, I’m pretty anonymous in here. Everyone else is a rich business magnate, just like me, and so I can hang around and keep a low profile. I’m not particularly well-known, mostly because I’ve worked to keep it that way. Everyone knows my business and my name, but not everyone knows what I look like. That’s helped me lead a relatively normal life. And so I blend in wearing my tuxedo and drinking my whisky. I’ve been around this crowd for years now, I’m thirty-nine years old and I’ve been rich for ten of them, but this is only my second charity auction. I hate these things. They’re not really about the charity. They’re more about the opportunity to

network with other rich assholes, maybe to bribe a few politicians, that sort of thing. Sure, there’s a real charity, and they write a check at the end of the night, but the shit that goes on during the event is loathsome. I’m only here for two reasons. First, my business manager Rick keeps begging me to come to these things, says it would be good for the company. Being here tonight is one way to get him off my back and maybe a little bit to prove him wrong. Second, and more important, what’s being auctioned fascinated me, and I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, please have a seat.” An older woman, maybe ten years older than me, stands at the microphone on the stage. There’s a general murmur and commotion as people move toward their seats around the large banquet tables. “The auction will begin momentarily,” she says, before heading off to the side of the stage. I find my place at a table in the back. I specifically requested this spot, and I’m glad I did. I don’t recognize anyone at my table, although my neighbor to my right is a large drunk man with a thick beard. He clearly wants to chat, but I’m not in the mood. The crowd waits, a little restless, until music starts.

The woman returns, this time to applause, and beams out at the crowd. I assume she’s the one that organized all this, though I haven’t paid much attention. “Thank you all for being here,” she says. “And the children of Mercy General thank you as well.” More applause before she holds up her hands. “Our first girl hails from Rhode Island. The daughter of Patricia and Linus Vanderhoot, Layla Vanderhoot loves horses, skiing, and plaid skirts. Come on out, Layla!” The crowd erupts into wild applause as a small girl with brown hair and dressed in an elegant gown steps out into the stage. She’s probably midtwenties, pretty but not beautiful. “Do I hear one thousand?” the woman at the microphone says, and the bidding begins. It’s a fascinating spectacle. Daughters of the wealthy elite are paraded out onto the stage, one after another, and equally wealthy men bid outrageous sums of money to take them out on dates. The first girl, the Vanderhoot girl, is pretty but fairly plain, and even she fetches twenty grand, a respectable sum. I hope she enjoys talking horses and skirts with her suitor, who is clearly in his eighties and making lewd jokes with his peers.

Winning a date doesn’t guarantee anything untoward, of course. It just means you get to take the woman out on a date, probably chaperoned, for one night. That’s all it is, and it’s supposed to be innocent, but there’s a strange and creepy undertone to the whole thing. I lean back and watch. I don’t plan on bidding on anyone, and in fact I already wrote a fifty thousand dollar check to Mercy General earlier that morning, so I did my charitable duty. The girls themselves aren’t very interesting, and nobody is really making me want to speak up. I drink my whisky and then another, observing. I’m here at least, and Rick can’t deny that. I never said I’d fucking socialize or network, although I probably should. Nine girls come and go, nearly half of the herd. There’s going to be a break before dinner, and then the final ten are going to be sold off. I plan on slipping out before the entrees, since I’ve already seen enough. But something stops me before I can get up. “Ladies and gentlemen, Sadie Tillman!” The crowd claps loudly. I recognize that name. I wasn’t listening when the woman introduced

Sadie’s interests, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is the woman who walks out on stage. She’s probably twenty years old, about five foot five to my six foot four. She has dark hair, midnight black, down to the middle of her back and thick. I can see her deep green eyes even from my spot toward the back. She’s wearing a blue dress, shimmering slightly in the ballroom spotlight, that hugs her ample curves. She looks a little overwhelmed as she smiles and waves hesitantly, and instantly I feel something stirring inside of me, something I didn’t expect. She’s fucking gorgeous. I know the Tillmans, they’re old fucking money, the kind of people I despise. But Sadie herself doesn’t seem like the other rich girls. She’s not plain, far from it. She has a fascinating, beautiful look to her. That raven black hair is so interesting compared with the usual blondes and brunettes you see. She’s not extremely done-up, and doesn’t need to be. She’s clearly naturally beautiful, if a little shy. “Do I hear two thousand for Sadie?” the woman says. Several paddles raise, and there’s laughter across the ballroom. The bidding continues, and I can’t

stop staring at Sadie. She’s alluring. Fucking gorgeous. How is a girl like her standing up on that stage, among these fucking animals? She’s a goddess and we’re the mortals tasked with worshipping her. I want her. The thought hits me like a sledgehammer. I want her badly, have to have her. My attention is suddenly pulled back to the woman on the stage. “Do I hear forty?” she asks, and another paddle raises. “Forty-five?” Silence from the crowd. I frown, looking up at Sadie. She’s worth so much fucking more than forty-five thousand dollars. I don’t know what comes over me, but I raise my paddle high in the air. “Ah, the gentleman in the back,” the woman says. “Do I hear fifty?” My opponent raises his paddle. “Fifty-five?” I raise my paddle. “Sixty?”

He raises his. “Sixty-five?” “One hundred thousand,” I call out, raising my paddle. There’s a stirring and a general murmur. The man I’m bidding against turns to look back at me, and I finally get a sense of him. He’s younger than everyone else here, younger than me. I think I recognize him, but I can’t be sure from the distance, and he quickly turns back. “Two hundred thousand,” he says to the woman. She looks taken aback. “Well, now, this is very generous.” Sadie herself looks incredibly nervous, but she keeps smiling. I know she can’t see me, not with the spotlight in her eyes, but I don’t care. I have to have her. “Half a million,” I call out. There’s an uproar as people cry out about the absurd amount of money. Sadie looks nervous. The drunk man next to me laughs and claps me on the back. I don’t care about any of that. I only have eyes for

Sadie, and I want this more than anything. The money doesn’t matter to me. “Well, this is unprecedented,” the woman says. “Do I hear five hundred and ten?” There’s silence, and my opponent doesn’t move. “Going once, going twice, sold to the gentleman in the back. You are incredibly generous and the children of Mercy General thank you.” I give a little nod to the crowd as they cheer and clap. I hate being the center of attention like this, but I can’t help but think it was worth it. Sadie stands on the stage for a moment, frowning out at the crowd, trying to spot me. But she’s quickly ushered off, and dinner begins. “Mr. Waller.” The woman from the stage approaches me. I stand and shake her hand. “My name is Belinda Stitcher.” “You know me,” I say to her. “Of course. I was the one that invited you.” She beams and I don’t like her smug look, but it doesn’t matter. She leans toward me, directing me away from the table and the crowd. “Listen, that was a lot of money you pledged.” “I wanted to win,” I say.

“Good, very good. And we appreciate it. But, ah, it’s not a binding thing. See what I’m saying?” I shake my head. “I follow through on my promises. Where do I write the check?” She blushes. “Of course, of course. No need for that now. Stay, enjoy yourself.” “I’m going to head home,” I say. “Contact my office about the girl and the check.” She frowns. “Surely you want to stay for a free meal at least? You’re so generous.” “Contact my office,” I say again, glancing back at the room. “And tell the girl that Gavin Waller won her. I’m very much looking forward to meeting her.” Without another word, I hurry away. Partly because I want to get away from that crowd, and partly because I don’t want to meet Sadie, not yet at least. I want to meet her on my terms, on a date of my choosing. Besides, I feel like I’ve made a fool of myself, bidding so much on her. That’s going to give the rich a lot to gossip about. I don’t care though. All I can think about as I head home is Sadie Tillman, gorgeous and embarrassed, looking like something I’ve never seen before.

2

SADIE

“A

re you ready, honey?”

My mother fusses over my hair and my outfit. I frown at the ground, trying not to think too much about what I’m going to do. Just stand there and smile, I think to myself. I can do that, it’s not so hard. “She’s on in a minute,” a man holding a clipboard says to my mother. “You look great,” mother says to me, fussing again with renewed energy. “Remember, it doesn’t matter how much they pay for you. I just want you to get out there. Besides, Milo plans on winning.” I have to force myself not to groan. Milo Fitzwilliam is a favorite of my mother and father.

He’s the son and heir to the Fitzwilliam fortune, one of the most powerful families in the whole city. My family is up there, and they’ve been trying to arrange something with the Fitzwilliam family for a long time. I’m supposed to be that something. I’m a bargaining chip to my parents. My mother is fussing and being kind right now, but only because she’s worried that I’m going to embarrass her out on that stage. It doesn’t matter. I’m used to that sort of thing. My parents are constantly acting like I’m a failure and an embarrassment all because I don’t love horseback riding and I haven’t locked down a rich man yet. They’re excited that Milo is interested, but they’re afraid he’s our last chance. They don’t ask me what I want, of course. That doesn’t matter. I’m a Tillman daughter, and that means I’ll do my duty for the family and marry a good rich boy. That’s just what I was born for and what I’m expected to do. I didn’t get to go to college. I went to an elite prep school, of course, since my parents wouldn’t dream of sending me anywhere else. But while most of my other classmates got to go off to universities and colleges, I was forced to stay home with my family. My place isn’t at a university, my mother said, but

marrying an eligible man. He can worry about taking care of me. Sometimes, I dream about leaving. I dream about running away from my multi-story apartment and living in some tiny shack out in the woods. I’d learn to cook and clean and grow things. It’s a childish dream, I know, and it’ll never happen. But it just speaks toward how much I want to get away from my family and become my own person. “You can do this,” my mother says to me as the man with the clipboard motions for me to follow him. “Don’t embarrass me.” Her final words ring in my ears as I’m ushered away from her. Of course that’s all she cares about, not how I feel. I was never asked if I wanted to be auctioned off like some whore or piece of cattle. I was never asked if I wanted to go on a date with a random rich man. My parents felt this was a good thing for me to do, and so I’m doing it. The stage is brightly lit and I can barely see out into the crowd. The applause is loud and I’m nervous as I step onto the little taped mark where I’m supposed to stand. I don’t know what to do with my arms, and so I wave a little bit, smiling nervously. The bidding begins, and people are actually putting

up money. I didn’t expect that. I never fit in with the other ultra wealthy and privileged girls. I tried to make friends at school, but I couldn’t care less about the trivial things that they were interested in. I don’t like riding horses and I have no interest in endlessly discussing boys and how much their families are worth. I like to read and paint, but nobody ever asked me about that. I have friends, of course, but nobody that close, and anyway they’re all gone off to college now. I look out into the crowd, and suddenly I spot Milo. He’s sitting toward the front, grinning at me, as he raises his paddle to bid. I keep smiling, feeling mortified and embarrassed out on the stage. I hate being looked at like I’m just a thing to be bought and sold, but I can’t do anything about it. I can’t embarrass my family by backing out now. Milo bids again and suddenly I’m struck by the intense desire to run. I don’t want to go out on a date with him. He’s close to my father and brothers, and he’s always around the house. He’s short, barely a couple inches taller than me, with thinning hair and this goofy smile. My mother once said he looks like his family, inbred and without manners. I hate the tone of that joke, but there’s some truth to it. Milo bids again, a pretty large amount, and I feel

intense dread deep inside of me. I expect him to win, when suddenly someone else bids, someone in the back. I strain to see, but the lights are too bright. I can’t spot him. But I do see Milo’s face and he’s angry. They get into a bidding war. I can’t believe the numbers they’re throwing out, and Milo is getting more and more angry. It gets all the way up to one hundred thousand dollars, more than anyone else has gone for, and I can see that Milo’s anger is shifting into shock. I nearly faint when the man in the back bids half a million dollars. Milo’s expression is absolutely priceless, though, and I already know my parents are furious. The hostess counts down, and the strange man wins. I try to catch another glimpse of him, but I can’t see, and the room falls into an uproar of excitement. I’m ushered off the stage, and into the warm embrace of my family. Except there’s nothing warm about my mother. “That bastard,” she says, furious. “Who does he think he is?” “Low class,” my brother Michael says. He’s my eldest brother and we’re not close. “Poor Milo,” my mother says. “He really wanted to

win. Did you see him bidding, Sadie? Milo has his eye on you. I think you should be proud.” “Sure,” I say to her. “Half a million though, sis. That’s pretty fucking good.” Peter grins at me. He’s only two years older than me. I laugh and shrug. “I guess I’m worth it.” “Yeah, right.” He makes a face. “You’re two hundred thousand, at best.” “Cut it out, you two,” my mother snaps, and Peter grins at me. He’s the only person in my family that I actually like. He’s not quite a black sheep, not like I am at least, but he doesn’t buy into their ultra rich and conservative attitude. He likes to laugh and have fun and enjoy life much more than my very stuckup and conservative father and mother do. “Who was he, anyway?” Michael asks. “I couldn’t see,” I admit. “I didn’t catch it, either,” my mother says. “Hold on, let me find Belinda. She’ll know. Maybe we can somehow fix this.” My mother storms off, leaving me with my brothers. My father is somewhere in the dining hall, no doubt shaking hands and making

business connections. Michael frowns at me for a moment. “You should stand up straight,” he says, before turning away and looking at his phone. I sigh and Peter makes a face, mocking our older brother. I can’t help but laugh. “You did good up there,” he says. “Really?” I ask him. “I felt like I was going to puke.” He shakes his head. “Seriously. The other girls all looked like frightened deer. You just looked like a nervous deer.” “Perfect. That’s what I was going for.” “Come on,” Peter says. “Let’s catch a glimpse of your suitor.” I follow him around the corner, leaving Michael to himself. We step through a door and head into the main ballroom. It’s crowded as servers carry dinner plates to each guest. There’s probably half the net worth of America in this room right now, which strikes me as absurd and silly. It’s a bunch of white, old, privileged men, hoarding their money, and only giving some to charity in exchange for buying a young woman’s attention for a night. It’s crass and

lewd and I hate it all over again. Peter grabs a drink off a passing tray and winks at me. We walk along the edge of the room, looking at the guests. “There’s your boyfriend,” Peter says, nodding. I follow his gaze and spot Milo chatting with a group of men. “Come on,” I say, hurrying away. Peter laughs. “Don’t want to see him?” “I’m afraid he’ll propose.” “I wouldn’t blame him. Poor guy. Looked like he might puke when he lost.” I can’t help but smile at that. “There’s mom,” I say, pointing. She’s walking quickly toward the back of the ballroom, heading right toward Belinda Stitcher, the woman who headed up this whole thing. Belinda is standing with a man that I’ve never seen before. He’s wearing a tuxedo, like everyone else in this place, so he must belong here. But he’s younger than most of the men, maybe in his late thirties at most. And he’s handsome, incredibly handsome. He has striking blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair, a bit longer on top, combed back. His jaw is square

and there’s a bit of stubble on his chin, like he couldn’t be bothered to shave for this event. He nods at Belinda and walks away quickly before my mother arrives. I only get a glimpse of him, but I’m fascinated. I’ve never seen a man like him before at an event like this. He looked rugged, handsome, not at all like the stuck-up and stodgy old men that typically come to a charity event. “Who was that?” I ask Peter. He shrugs. “Who knows? Probably a waiter.” I smile half-heartedly at his joke. Even Peter can be stuck-up sometimes. We watch as mother accosts Belinda. They speak for a moment, and suddenly mother steps back, her eyes wide. And then the conversation begins again, this time with a renewed frenzy. Mother looks angry and Belinda a little overwhelmed. “What’s that all about?” Peter asks me. “I’m assuming she doesn’t approve of my future date,” I say. “Of course she doesn’t.” Peter gives me a look. “Unless he’s old money and powerful, Regina Tillman does not give a shit about him.”

I laugh softly. Mother breaks away from Belinda, looking angry. I’ve seen that look before, and I don’t like it at all. Peter waves at her, and she spots him, sighing to herself. She walks over to the pair of us, glancing around like she’s afraid that someone will notice something is wrong. “Well, mother?” Peter asks her. “Don’t be rude, Peter,” Mother says, though her heart isn’t into it. She looks at me, a frown on her face. “What?” I ask her. “I found out who your date is, and you simply aren’t going.” I pause for a second and it hits me. My date has to be that man. “Who is it?” I ask her, my heart beating fast. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll go with Milo and that’s that.” “Mother,” I say softly. “Tell me.” She looks a little surprised. I don’t often stand up to her. Which is probably why she actually listens for

once. “His name is Gavin Waller, and he’s not appropriate, not appropriate at all.” I don’t recognize the name, but Peter laughs out loud. “Waller! He’s that young guy, made a mint selling guns to the military before making even more on the stock market.” “It wasn’t guns,” my mother says. “He sold flooring laminates.” “Boring. I prefer the guns,” Peter says. “Was that him?” I ask my mother. “Talking to Belinda just a second ago.” She pauses and nods. “That was him. And Sadie, he isn’t appropriate for you. No, not at all. We’ll go with Milo.” “He won me,” I say loudly with more force than intended. It surprises me almost as much as it surprises Peter and my mother. They both stare at me like I’ve gone insane. My mother snaps out of it quicker than Peter. “Sadie, what did you just say?” “He won me,” I repeat, a little softer. “And he bid a

lot of money. The hospital needs that money. I’m going on that date.” She stares, shocked. “You absolutely are not.” Peter laughs and grins at my mother. “She has a point, mom. That was a lot of money. If she backs out, imagine how it’ll look?” Peter nudges me, and I understand where he’s going with this. “We’ll look stingy,” I say. “Like we don’t care about sick children. It’ll be a scandal.” The dreaded “s” word brings my mother up short. She chews her lower lip for a moment, thinking. “We can’t afford to appear like we hate sick children,” she says slowly. “Mother, Sadie simply must go,” Peter says. “He’s right. I have to go. It’s my duty.” Mother agrees, nodding. We just played on all her weaknesses. Image, duty, and the fear of scandals are all serious motivating forces for our mother. “Very well. We’ll figure it out.” She looks away. “Come on. Let’s go join your father.” Peter grins at me and I feel a thrill run through me. I don’t get my way very often in this family, and it feels good to finally stand up for something.

Even if that something is a strange man who I’ve never met before. I float through the rest of the evening, acting like the upper class woman that I’m supposed to be, but inside I’m thinking about things that would make my parents disown me. The truth is, I have very little experience with men. All through school, I had only two serious boyfriends, and we never slept together. We fooled around, of course, but they were too afraid of who my parents were to really push further. They were nervous boys, and my relationships with them never lasted long. That’s my deepest, most secret, hidden shame: I’m a virgin. I’m twenty years old and I’ve never had sex. So many of my peers were having sex all the time, but I just never did. And now I’m stuck at home, barely seeing anyone my own age, and I’m frustrated as all hell. Now suddenly, this handsome stranger walks into my life. He’s not a nervous boy, not at all. He’s an actual man, an older man, and he clearly has experience. I’d be lying if I tried to say that wasn’t part of why I want to go out with him. I want to see what it’s like to be with a real man. I want to live a little bit, experience the real world.

And this man might be able to give me that experience. He’s definitely handsome enough to make my stomach turn. Plus, my mother doesn’t approve, and that only makes it so much better. I don’t know what’s going to happen with this date. It’ll probably be chaperoned and boring, but I don’t care. I’ll be doing something my mother doesn’t want me to do, and I’ll be doing it with a handsome older man. Maybe he’ll be totally unlike all of the other rich assholes I meet in my life. Maybe I’ll actually like him. I can’t stop thinking about that glimpse I got of my future date, and I can’t wait to actually go out with him.

3

GAVIN

I

’ve never felt nervous for a date in my entire fucking life, but here I am, sitting in the back of my town car and waiting for Sadie Tillman, feeling like a fucking teenager again. I don’t know what it is about this girl. It’s not her family, that’s for sure. After I won the date and wrote the check, my office was flooded with calls about the Tillman girl. People wanted to know what the hell I was thinking, going up against the Tillmans like that. But I didn’t see it that way. I didn’t see it as pushing back against a powerful family. I saw it as getting a woman I wanted. Plain and simple.

Rick was pissed, of course. He has to deal with the questions and the pressure now, and he thinks there might be some business ramifications. Doesn’t matter to me. I have more fucking money than I know what to do with, and my business is rock solid. Nobody in this city can fuck that up considering I deal mostly with the Feds and the military. I have some deep contracts with them, the sorts of things that don’t go away unless I truly fuck up. Buying a woman at a charity auction against the wishes of her rich family isn’t nearly bad enough. But none of that makes me nervous. It’s Sadie herself. I don’t know why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her standing up on that stage. I keep picturing her long dark hair covering her breasts, wearing only a pair of thin white cotton panties. I’d feel her smooth light skin, her full red lips, and wrap my fist through her thick hair, pulling her head back. My heart beats fast as I get lost in my fantasy. I almost don’t notice it when Sadie appears at the door to her building, frowning out at the car. I quickly get out and walk toward her. She looks at me, her eyes widening slightly, but she doesn’t look surprised.

Good. I want her to know about me. I’m betting her family has told her some unflattering things. Sadie stands there and extends her hand, maybe a little stiffly. She’s wearing a relatively conservative outfit, tight dark jeans and a dark blue cardigan, but her hair is down and her eyes look excited. I take her hand, shaking it, and smirk at her. “I’m your date,” I say. “Sadie,” she answers. “I know. And I think you know my name.” She bites her lip. “Gavin.” “That’s right.” I smile larger. I really like the sound of her voice and the feeling of her palm against mine. I let her hand drop. “It’s good to meet you. Ready?” She nods once. “Ready.” “Where’s the chaperone?” I ask her as we head to the car. That was one stipulation her parents put on this date. “He’ll follow in his car,” she says. “I’m surprised. I expected him to be in my lap the whole night.”

“My mother would have loved that,” she says, smiling a little mischievously. “But I convinced her otherwise.” I smile and open the car door for her, shutting it once she gets in. That’s very, very interesting. She convinced her mother to let us have a little alone time, at least during the car rides. I wonder why she would do that. I walk quickly and purposefully around the car then get in on the other side. Once I’m in, the driver heads off, the divider up between him and us. “So Gavin,” Sadie says. “Where are you taking me tonight?” I smile at her, leaning toward her. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and even being this close to her makes my heart hammer. “Somewhere special,” I say. “At least, special to me.” “Sounds interesting.” “It is,” I say. “You know, I’m not from all of this.” I gesture at the big buildings all around me. “Not from the city?” she asks with a little smile. I grin at her. She clearly understood me, but is giving me a hard time. “I’m from the city, but not this part. We’re going to a place that I grew up

with.” She perks up a little bit. “Really? I’d really like that.” “It’s called Luberto’s. It’s a little Italian place on the west side of the city.” “Seriously?” she asks, laughing. “I’ve never been to the west side before.” It’s my turn to laugh, surprised. “You’ve never been to an entire part of the city?” “I know. It’s stupid, right?” “Not stupid. Just a shame. You’re missing out.” “I know,” she says, and there’s something more behind her words. “I’m glad your first time can be with me.” She blushes suddenly and looks out the window. “Right. Of course.” I cock my head at her, a little confused about her reaction, but I decide not to press it. As we drive to Luberto’s, I ask her little questions about her life, where she grew up, the schools she attended. I keep it light and easy, not wanting to dive into the hard stuff yet. She’s surprisingly easy

to talk to, and tells me all about her life as an upper crust rich girl. None of it is surprising. She has the same life as a million other girls like her. That’s not really what interests me about her, if I’m being honest. It’s the way that she talks about her life that fascinates me. Most rich girls seem to think that the sun shines out their ass, but not Sadie. She plays down the schools she went to, the things she did, like it isn’t the most elite of the elite possible. She doesn’t brag about her family, which most rich girls do, and she doesn’t press me about my own. And she doesn’t ask me about my business. I actually like that about her. Most rich girls immediately want to know how much money I make, although they’re too polite to actually come out and say it. Sadie doesn’t seem at all interested in that. In fact, she mostly asks about hobbies and interests, and spends a lot of time talking about how much she likes to paint, although she says she’s awful at it. By the end of the ride, I’m totally fucking charmed by her. I had a feeling that she was different, but I couldn’t have known how right I was. Sadie is the first girl from rich parents that I haven’t actually despised after ten minutes of talking to her.

Pretty soon we reach Luberto’s. The ten-minute car ride passes in the blink of an eye, which surprises me. We step out and I open her door. “It’s cute,” she says, smiling broadly. “It’s like home to me,” I say. “I grew up around here, you know.” “Really?” she asks. “Really. The place we’ll go after this, it’s where I had my first beer.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Impressive.” “Not really. It’s a dump.” “I’m going to love it.” I laugh a little and we step into the restaurant. Luberto’s is a little Italian place, maybe seats for forty people or so, but it has the best food in the whole damn city. I rented out the private back room, and the hostess ushers us back there. It has a single table with a white tablecloth, a single white candle, and a single red rose. I get Sadie seated, sit across from her, and the waitress takes our drink orders right away. I ask for a whisky, and Sadie asks for some white wine. “This is nice,” she says.

“Normally it’s more crowded,” I answer. “But for tonight, I thought I’d give us a little privacy.” She laughs lightly and shrugs. “I don’t mind crowded. Although I’m sure Reginald won’t love that.” I cock my head at her. “Reginald?” “Oh, he’s the chaperone for tonight. I’m sure he’s in the other room right now, fuming that we’re in a private space.” “What, does he think I’m going to corrupt you too easily?” She blushes a little. “Probably.” “Maybe he’s right.” I lean toward her with a wicked smile. She blushes deeper and looks away. She pauses for a second. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” We’re interrupted briefly as the waitress returns with our drinks. I sip my whisky and Sadie fusses with her wine. “I wanted to know why you spent so much money,” she says finally, blurting it out once the waitress is gone.

I grin huge at her. “Maybe I just like kids.” “Maybe,” she says. “But you could just write a check instead of bidding on me. Or you could have bid on any other girl.” “You interested me,” I say. “Did you . . . know about my family?” I sigh, leaning toward her. “That’s what this is about?” She shrugs. “A lot of people do things just because of my family.” “That’s not why I bought you. Actually, that’s a reason not to. I think your family hates me.” She smiles a little. “Yeah. They do.” I laugh. I like how honest she is. “Do you really want to know?” She nods, getting into the conversation. “Yeah, I do.” I can see a little sparkle in her eye. “It’s because I want you,” I say simply. She looks surprised. “W-what?” she stutters. I smirk at her again and sip my whisky casually. “As soon as I saw you on that stage, I knew you were different. And I wanted you then, and I still

want you now. Do you even know the effect you have on men?” She gapes at me, clearly shocked and at a loss for words. I can’t help but laugh softly at her reaction. I can tell nobody has ever talked to her like this before, and she doesn’t know what to do. Conflicting emotions play on her face. She’s torn between disgust, surprise, anger, and pure desire. “I see,” she finally says. “Are you always this forward?” “No,” I admit. “Not always. But I wanted to see you blush again.” That finally gets the reaction I want. She blushes slightly and looks down at the table. “So you bought me just because you want to sleep with me.” “Not entirely, no,” I say. “That’s part of it. I want to undress you and make you experience things those rich little prep school assholes could never do.” She stares at me and bites her lip, and I know I’m right about that. “I also thought you’d be different from those other stuck-up rich girls up there. I didn’t plan on bidding at all, but as soon as you stepped out, I couldn’t help myself.” She watches me quietly for a second. Her face sets

into a mask of distant anger, but I like that about her. She looks a little defiant, and it wouldn’t be any fun if she didn’t put up a little fight. But I saw it already. I saw that look on her face, while she was trying to decide how to respond. It was desire, clear and plain as day. She’s still an upper crust rich girl and she has to put up a front. She can’t just give in to what she wants. Not at first, at least. “What was it about me that interested you so much? Aside from your crude thoughts.” I smirk and shrug. “You know how it can be. Girls like you have a certain way.” “Girls like me?” I sip my whisky. “Rich girls.” “I see. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?” “How can it not? It’s what you are.” “So that makes you a poor boy.” She arches an eyebrow. “I guess so,” I say. “You poor, poor boy.” I laugh softly. “Not at all. I love where I come

from.” “So do I.” She crosses her arms a little. I laugh again and watch her. I can tell that she’s annoyed by the assumptions I’ve made about her, and I can’t blame her. But the thing is, I know I’m right. Fortunately, we don’t have to get too into it. The waitress comes and takes our orders, breaking the tension. I feel a little guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. She was practically begging for it, and the look on her face was priceless. I’ll have to make it up to her, though. “I kissed my first girl in this restaurant,” I say to her once the waitress leaves. “Did you have to pay her half a million dollars?” I grin at her. “Fair enough, I deserved that. Do you want to hear the story?” “Fine.” I can tell she’s annoyed, but this story always loosens people up. “I was thirteen years old, just a young man. Didn’t know a thing about girls.” “You weren’t always this smooth talker?” she asks, smiling slightly.

“Believe it or not. Back then, there was this gorgeous girl, lived down the street from me, Becky Carmichael. God, I loved Becky so much I could barely breathe. You know how that can be, when you’re young. It’s the most intense feeling in the world.” She smiles slightly and nods. “You’re almost stupid for it.” “You think it’s the most important thing in the world.” She laughs a little. “I felt that way for Robert Smith.” I pause. “The guy from The Cure.” She cocks her head. “The what?” “Never mind.” “He was a boy that went to my school. Couldn’t get enough of him. Long eyelashes.” I grin at her. “Sounds like my Becky. Anyway, one night, my best friend Jimmy tells her that I have a crush on her, and dares her to kiss me. For whatever reason, she agrees, and we all meet in the back of this place, over by the bathrooms just out there.” I gesture toward the main room. “Did you kiss her?” she asks.

“I did,” I say. “And it was the most incredible thing. Didn’t know what I was doing, but I was doing it. And as the kiss was ending, I heard a click and a laugh, and when I looked over, it was Jimmy, holding his father’s camera.” “He didn’t!” Sadie says, laughing. “He did,” I confirm. “And he got it developed and gave it to me years later. And I still have that picture.” “No way,” she says, laughing. “I do, I swear it. I’ll show you one day.” “Okay then,” she says, shaking her head and smiling. “That’s a good story.” “Your turn now,” I say, leaning back and sipping my drink. “Tell me about your first kiss.” She laughs a little. “No way. It’s embarrassing.” “Can’t be more embarrassing than mine. Besides, I bet you were a little flirt back then.” “Hardly.” She smiles and fingers her wine glass. “I didn’t kiss a boy until I was sixteen.” “Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Hard sometimes, being in my family.” She gets a

little quiet and doesn’t elaborate. I don’t push her. I get a glimpse of those depths again. I know there’s more to her than what’s on the surface, and I want to get to know her, but I know I have to be a little more delicate. Our meals come soon and we fall into more comfortable small talk about our lives. She tells me about growing up with her family and going to school, and I tell her about what this neighborhood was like when I was young. We laugh a lot and things are surprisingly comfortable. The tension is still there, lingering beneath the surface, but she quickly loosens up and I can tell she forgets all about being annoyed. Soon, our meals are finished, and we’re leaning back, stuffed to the brim. “What did you think?” I ask her. “Best food ever, right?” She nods. “And enough to feed a horse.” “Easily. Two horses, I bet.” She grins. “I like it here.” “I’m glad. I love this place.” I’m about to ask her something else about her life when suddenly the door opens. I’m expecting the

waitress, but instead it’s a man I don’t recognize, tall and thin, wearing a suit and an overcoat. Sadie turns to look at him. “Reginald?” she asks. “What are you doing here?” “Excuse me, Miss Sadie, but it’s time.” He nods at his watch. She narrows her eyes. “We just finished. We’re having a nice time.” I feel a thrill run through me. “I’m sorry, Miss Sadie,” Reginald says. “But your parents expect you promptly at ten.” She looks surprised. “It’s that late already?” Reginald nods. I check my watch, and sure enough, two hours slipped past without us realizing. “Well, then,” I say, knowing when it’s time to let things take their course. “We should say good night.” She nods and stands up. I can tell she wants to say something, but I don’t give her the chance. “I had fun,” I say. “Thanks,” she says awkwardly. We’re both aware of Reginald watching, his disapproving stare

making her squirm a little. I just ignore him. “Call me sometime. I had a good time.” “Okay,” she says, pausing. “Good night.” “Good night.” She glances back at me as Reginald sweeps her away, taking her out of the room. I watch her leave and feel disappointed. It doesn’t occur to me until she’s gone that I never gave her my number. I don’t know what I expected. That date went well, very well. I couldn’t have hoped for more, not on a first date, let alone one chaperoned by her family driver. Still, I wanted more. I wanted to bend her over that table and fuck her goddamn brains out. She’s so uptight but I can see the freak underneath that fake classy exterior. I know she wants it as much as I do, but her breeding and the way she was raised is holding her back. I’ll break that, though. I know she’ll call. She’s too fascinated by what I said earlier, even if it did make her a little mad. She’s never been talked to that way before, but she wants more. I’m willing to give it to her. But I have to be

patient. She’ll come to me, sooner or later. And if she doesn’t, I’ll find a way to get what I want.

4

SADIE

B

reakfast in the Tillman household is practically a spiritual thing.

I wake up early, my mind still buzzing over my date the night before. I blink at the weak morning light filtering in through the gauzy white curtains and sit up. My bed is huge, a four-poster, probably an antique. I’ve been sleeping in it since I was a kid, and I suspect that my mother gave it to me as some kind of princess fantasy fulfillment for herself. I love my little corner of our apartment. I have my big beautiful bed, my little desk with my laptop, my dresser, and a deep walk-in closet. I don’t have a television, because that stuff can rot my brain, according to my father, but that doesn’t matter. I spend most of my time in here, because there’s one

more special thing that I love even more than everything else. I get up and stretch, then head into my closet to throw some clothes on. I turn on the light and grab some sweats and a t-shirt before turning to the other side of the closet. The wall is covered with shelves, and the shelves are full of books. It’s basically my own little library. My father converted my closet into half a bookshelf when I was younger and he realized that I loved reading. So half of my closet has all my clothes, and the other half has all my books, and it’s basically heaven. There’s a big, thick cushion on the floor in the back left corner and some candles sitting on the shelves. Sometimes, I come in here and light the candles and leave only a single weak lamp on as I curl up in my little nook and read. I smile to myself as I head down toward the kitchen. Our apartment takes up two whole floors in a nice building right downtown, and it’s been in our family forever. The place looks like it was decorated in another century, because it really was. Old oil paintings hang on the walls and they sometimes clash with the more modern flourishes my father has put in place since he inherited the family home. I pause at the top of the steps. I can hear voices

downstairs, my family all sitting down at the table to eat. I think back to my date with Gavin and I can’t help but smile. I got a glimpse into his life, the kind of glimpse I never expected to get. I didn’t know what to think about him at first. He’s intimidating and intense, but I was never worried about him, not like my parents were. They sent Reginald along to make sure that he didn’t get me into any trouble, and obviously Reginald had some strict orders to make sure that I came home right after dinner. But I never felt out of place with Gavin. We were in his old neighborhood, basically his old home, but I didn’t feel like I didn’t belong. He did his best to tell me stories from his past, and our conversation flowed so easily. There was only one moment that struck me a little bit. When he was so forward with me, telling me what he wanted, I felt a thrill run down my spine. I couldn’t let him see that I liked it, that I wanted him to keep going, to tell me all the dirty things he wants to do to me. I couldn’t let him see that, because I don’t really know. I’m nervous to go there. I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex before. I don’t have that kind of experience, not the kind of experience that Gavin clearly has.

But he makes me want to learn, even if that’s very wrong. I head down the steps, trying to forget about Gavin. I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. I could probably find him again, see him at some social function, or maybe track him down another way. But my parents would never allow it, and they’d do anything they can to keep me away from him. Truth is, I’ve spent so long under the control of my family that I don’t know how to go against their wishes, even for something that I actually want. The smell of breakfast wafts into my nose, delicious and bright. I can’t help but smile. Our cook, Betty, is one of the best people in the whole world, and she always makes me an extra pancake with M&Ms in it. The dining room is the third room on the left. It’s connected to the kitchen. There’s a long table against the far wall with a buffet-style setup, like every morning, and a couple staff members stand quietly against the back wall. One of them, Thomas, gives me a little wink, and I smile back at him. Thomas is one of my favorite staff members. It’s weird to live in a house that’s more like a hotel. We have people that work for us, who cook and clean and take care of things for us. I didn’t realize that was strange when I was a little girl. I assumed

everyone had that in their homes. But I know better now. My life is far from ordinary, and sometimes I don’t like that. Sometimes I wish I knew how normal people lived. I want to know what it’s like to have real responsibility and not endless privilege. “Good morning.” I look over and spot my father, sitting in his normal position, looking at me. Peter is sitting to my father’s left, not paying attention to anything around him. Michael is to his right, reading the paper, and my mother is nowhere to be seen. “Good morning,” I say absently. I grab a plate and get my food and a cup of coffee. “Morning,” Peter says as I sit down next to him. He pauses then turns to me, eyes wide. “How was your date?” He seems excited, a little smile on his face. I can already sense my father’s disapproving glare. “It was fine,” I say, turning to my food, but Peter doesn’t take the hint. “Come on, tell me about it. Where did he take you?” I pause, willing myself not to look at father or Michael, though they’re both watching me now.

“A place in his old neighborhood,” I say. “Luberto’s.” “Was it nice?” Peter asks. “Not really,” I say. “But it also was. It was a local place, very family-oriented, and he’s clearly been there a lot—“ My father interrupts you. “I’m not surprised he took you to a place like that.” The table falls silent and I look over at my father. “It was nice,” I say. “It’s probably dangerous.” He makes a face. “Filthy, trash-ridden, and unsanitary. You should never have been set up with a man like that.” “It was for charity,” I say softly. “Father is right,” Michael says, his gaze cold. “Gavin Waller has a bad reputation. It’s good Reginald was with you.” I frown a little bit. I don’t know much about Gavin’s reputation, but I do know that my father dislikes anyone who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth. “Gavin was a gentleman,” I say. “Your brother is right,” father says. “Gavin is no

good for you. I’m glad that debacle is all over with.” He turns back to his food with a satisfied smile on his face. I glance down at my plate and suddenly feel anger welling up inside of me. I don’t know how many times my brother and father have told me how I need to live my life, how I need to behave and not embarrass them. I’m sick of them treating me like I’m some little girl still. “I’m not hungry,” I say, pushing my plate away. “Sadie,” Peter says, but I just ignore him. I turn and leave the dining room. My father and Michael don’t say anything to stop me. They probably just think I’m being hysterical or emotional. Maybe I am, but I’m angry. I’m so tired of them treating me like a little girl. I hurry back to my room and shut the door softly. I sigh and head into my closet, curling up in my little nook with my laptop. I spend the rest of the morning searching for information on Gavin Waller. There’s not a whole lot out there, but I quickly come to understand what his reputation is.

He’s a notorious playboy. He’s never been married, but apparently he has been with every high society woman in the city, and he never settles for long. He’s filthy rich and handsome, of course, but he doesn’t seem interested in anything longterm. He doesn’t seem interested in a family. I sigh, leaning against the wall. I don’t even know if I want a family, although of course that’s expected of me. I’m supposed to marry a guy like Milo and breed little blue-blood babies with him until the day that I die. Somehow, that life doesn’t sound very rewarding. But Gavin seems real somehow, more real than Milo or my parents. I’ve barely had a taste of him, but I’m already so interested. I know it would probably be better if I just forgot about him, but I can’t help but think about him. As I start to daydream about Gavin’s hands on my body, there’s suddenly a knock at the bedroom door. I get up quickly and head over. I open it softly. Thomas stands there, smiling at me. “Package for you,” he says. “Thanks,” I say, a little confused. “I didn’t order anything, though.” He shrugs. “Came with the mail. No return

address.” He hands me the thin brown box, about the size of a dress box. I take it from him. “Thanks, Thomas.” “Have a nice day.” He smile again and I shut the door. Curious, I turn to my bed. I place the package down and pull it open, frowning as I go. The brown plain box reveals a shiny black one, though without a logo. I pull it out and place it on my bed before taking the top off. The first thing I notice is a card in a plain white envelope. I take it out and set it aside. Beneath it is some white tissue paper. Too curious to stop myself, I pull apart the tissue paper and slowly take out the contents. I turn bright red as I realize what I’m holding. It’s a black lacy lingerie set, clearly expensive, and incredibly revealing. It’s in my size, but I have no clue who sent it. I know I didn’t order it, because I don’t really own anything like this. My clothes tend to be pretty plain, but this… it’s sexy. I grab the card and tear it open. Inside is a plain white thick paper stock with a simple note. Call me. 555-506-5136. Gavin.

I gape at the note for a second before dropping it and stepping away from the bed, my heart hammering in my chest. I don’t know how, but Gavin managed to buy me lingerie that will clearly fit me, and even had it sent to my home. I’m sure my parents don’t know about this, or else they would have freaked out. I stare at the card before picking it up and reading it again. Heart beating fast, I type the number into my phone. For a second, I want to hit send, but instead I just save it. I pull the lingerie out of the box and hold it up, my whole body tingling with excitement. I can’t believe he sent me this. I’ve never had a man do something like this before. I should be insulted that he’d be so forward like this, and maybe a little wary now that I know about his bad reputation, but I just don’t care. In this moment, I’m more than excited imagining Gavin slowly peeling the bra and matching panties from my body. I’ve never felt so sexy in my whole life. I want to try it on, but I can’t. I’m too nervous, afraid that I might get caught. Instead, I quickly put the lingerie away and hide the box in the back of my closet. I tear up the card into tiny pieces and put it back into the cardboard. I’ll have Thomas or someone else dispose of it for me, just to make sure my parents

don’t see and ask me what I bought. It’s stupid that I have to sneak around my parents like this, but I’m still stuck under their thumb. I can’t help it. I don’t have any skills, and only a high school education. I don’t know what I’d do out in the real world without the safety net of my family. But now more than ever, I want to explore the world outside of my own little bubble. And Gavin, for all his flaws, may be the perfect way to do that.

5

GAVIN

I

can’t get the girl out of my head.

I don’t know why. I’ve never been so hung up on someone before. I’ve been with plenty of women, some of them rich, all of them beautiful, but none of them holds a candle to Sadie. I just keep seeing her coy little smile at dinner, the way she laughs, the way our conversation flowed with such ease. I can’t stop imagining what I’d do to her body. Sending her the lingerie wasn’t hard. Her family’s address is easy enough to get, and I figured that if I sent it to her but didn’t include a return address, she might just get it. But I have no clue if she did or not, because she

didn’t call. I don’t know what I expected, sending her lingerie. I knew it would rile her up at the very least. I half thought she might call me angry and demand an explanation. But I got something worse. I got silence. I didn’t expect silence. Anger I can deal with. Excitement and desire, obviously I want those. But just nothing, well, that drives me even crazier. Makes me want her even more. A couple days after the date and sending her the lingerie, I went to get a drink with my closest friend, Chuck Peck. He’s a friend from high school, one of the smartest guys I know. He turned his high school education into a job on Wall Street trading stocks. Chuck sips his whisky and cocks his head at me. “So what are you going to do?” he asks. I just finished telling him the story of Sadie Tillman. I shrug. “Not sure what I can do.” “Not like you to just give up.” “Never said I’d given up.” I grin at him. “Just need a new angle.” “The lingerie thing was a bold move.” “You know me. Can’t do anything halfway.”

“Maybe you scared the girl,” he muses. I frown a little bit and sip my own whisky. It’s smoky and malty, a really gorgeous blend. “Maybe,” I admit. “I don’t think so, though.” “The Tillmans are no joke,” Chuck says. “What if they found the box and she never got it?” “I suspect I’d be meeting with their lawyers then,” I say, grinning. Chuck sighs. “It’s not funny, man,” he says. “The Tillmans are like… buying out Congress rich. You know what I mean?” “Not to mention connected as all hell,” I say, nodding. “I get it.” “Why mess with them?” “I’m not,” I say. “You are. There are plenty of women in this city, and almost all of them won’t get you in fucking trouble with the Tillman family.” “I’ve had all of those women,” I say, grinning. “There’s just something about this one. I don’t know, man. I can’t explain it.” He looks at me then sighs, shaking his head. “You’re going to keep going after her, aren’t you?

Nothing I can say?” “You’ve known me long enough to know I’m not going to back off,” I say. He shrugs. “Okay then. What’s your next move?” “Another package,” I say. “But I need to think of what to put inside of it.” “Can’t help you there,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll listen and advise, but I’m not crossing that line.” “You afraid of the Tillmans?” He stares at me for a second then nods his head. “You’re damn right I am.” We go back to drinking and change the subject, but I can’t really blame him. Chuck is a smart guy, and he’s been around long enough to know that you don’t mess with people like the Tillmans. I’ve learned that same lesson, but apparently it didn’t stick. Because the next day, despite warnings from Chuck, I find myself putting together another package. This one is smaller, much smaller. It’s a box about eight inches long, two inches wide, and inside is a gorgeous little black vibrator.

I can’t help but feel excited as hell as I put together this package. I write a little more on the card this time, heart racing. You have the outfit and now you have the toy. Call me to discuss what to do with it. Gavin. I grin to myself as I put it all together. If her family intercepts this thing, I’ll be totally fucked. They’ll come after me hard, and I can’t really blame them. But she won’t be able to ignore this if she does get it somehow. The lingerie was pushing it, but this vibrator is stepping over the line and then running way past it. It’s going to piss her off, or maybe it’s going to excite her, but it’s going to get a reaction. I mail it off and then I wait. I sent the package by courier, so I know that she’ll get it by the morning at the latest, I can barely sleep that night, thinking about how she’ll react when she wakes up to this little surprise on her doorstep, or however rich girls like her get their mail. I get up early, workout to keep my mind occupied, and then I get my coffee and head into the office. I try to distract myself with work, but I can’t stop thinking about that package and about Sadie. She’s so fucking gorgeous and smart and funny, and she probably doesn’t even realize how much she has to offer. I bet her family keeps her locked up tight,

ready to be traded off to some other rich family in exchange for some business ties or some shit. A few hours trickle past. I keep looking at the clock and feeling more and more anxious. No one comes or goes, and soon I’m forced to have lunch. I eat at my desk, unable or unwilling to leave my office. I don’t know why. I keep looking at my phone, willing it to ring, but it doesn’t. The day slowly slips past. I know she got it, or at least the couriers say it was delivered to her address. Maybe the family intercepted it and I’m fucked, or maybe she’s just so insulted that she won’t respond to me. I can’t imagine that’s the case, though, but the lunch hour comes and goes and I hear nothing. All day passes. I’m practically sweating this goddamn thing, and I almost start to regret sending it. But no, no, I don’t regret shit. I want this girl, and I need to find a way to get her. Maybe this package didn’t work, but something else will. I’m not giving up so easily. I head home around seven that night, disappointed but accepting my situation. If she got the package and didn’t call, that means she’s probably beyond my reach. But if she didn’t get it, that meant the

family knows what I’ve sent her, and I’m in deep shit. I don’t care about the family. I’m more worried that I can’t even get a rise out of her. Which actually does interest me even more. If she’s so cool and calm and collected that a vibrator and some lingerie in the mail doesn’t provoke a reaction, she must be a really interesting girl, even more than I realized. I have a glass of whisky and I read the news, and around eight o’clock, when I’ve finally began to think about a new plan for Sadie, my phone starts to ring. My stomach lurches with excitement. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I let it ring one more time before answering. “Hello,” I say. There’s a pause. “Gavin?” It’s Sadie’s voice. My grin threatens to tear my face apart. “Sadie,” I say. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” She pauses again. “I got your, uh, presents.” “Good,” I say. “I hope you liked them.” “They were, uh, inappropriate.” Despite her words, she doesn’t sound angry.

“Inappropriate can be good sometimes.” She pauses again. I can tell that she’s thinking seriously about what she’s going to say next. “You can’t keep sending me things,” she says. “I can stop,” I say. “But I’m not sure you really want me to.” “You’re going to get me in trouble.” I smirk to myself, leaning back in my chair. “Maybe I want to get you in trouble. Maybe you need a little trouble in your life.” “You don’t know that,” she says softly. “Did you like my presents?” I ask. “Did you try them on?” Anther pause, and my grin gets bigger. That means she did. “Please, don’t send anything else. I’m afraid my family will catch it.” She changed the subject. She definitely tried that lingerie on, maybe even used the vibrator. My cock is hard as hell as I imagine her wearing nothing but the bra and panties, the panties shoved to one side to show off her perfect little pussy, the vibrator rolling along her skin, her moans filling the room. “Agree to meet with me and I won’t send another

thing,” I say, needing that image to become a reality. I want to make her wear that outfit and to get herself off with that vibrator while she sucks my cock. I want to get her begging for more before I’m done with her. “Okay,” she says, barely a whisper. “I’ll make the arrangements. I’ll text you when it’s ready.” I can practically see her, dripping wet, biting her lip. “This is a bad idea,” she says. “I shouldn’t see you. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.” “And yet you are talking to me and you’re going to see me. Even after I sent you two very inappropriate gifts. What does that say about you, Sadie?” “I don’t know,” she admits. “I know. It says that you’re a dirty fucking girl, and you want to see exactly how dirty you can get with me.” I hear a slight intake of air and I know I’ve pushed her. I smirk to myself. “You like playing with me, don’t you?” “Very much,” I say. “I’ll see you soon.”

I hang up the phone before she can say another word. I want to leave her with the image of me playing with her. I can think of plenty of games that she’ll love. I can see tying her up in my room, binding her hands and feet to my bed, spreading her wide and licking her until she screams with pleasure. I’m so fucking hard and I want her so badly, but I have to be patient. I stand up, get myself another whisky, and set about getting this next date ready.

6

SADIE

G

oing to see Gavin again is very, very dangerous. I know I should ignore him, but I can’t help it.

As soon as I got that second box, I knew I was going to call. I’ve never owned a vibrator before, but I’ve always wanted one. As soon as I got it, I took it from the box and hid away in my little closet nook, making sure the door was shut behind me. It felt so fucking good. I spread my legs wide and ran the vibrator up and down my clit. I’ve gotten myself off before, but never with a vibrator, never like that. I kept picturing Gavin’s rough hands on my soft skin, pushing me closer and closer until I finally came, his name on my lips. Sneaking out to see him is stupid, so damn stupid,

but it’s possible. The day after our phone call, he sends me a text with the details. I respond to him, and we work it out together, the plan forming. It’s not exactly complicated, but it’s not simple, either. I’m nervous all day long. By the time eight rolls around, and I’ve eaten dinner with my family, I’m antsy as hell. I go to my room and choose an outfit that won’t make my parents suspicious, so it can’t be too sexy or nice. But I do wear the lingerie Gavin got me underneath, just for myself. Or so I’m telling myself. When I’m dressed, I find my father in his study. “I’m going out for a bit,” I say to him. He looks up from his papers. “Where?” he asks. “Just a walk,” I say. “Feeling a little strange after dinner. A walk might be good.” He nods. “Bring someone with you.” “Sure,” I say and wave. I go for walks around the neighborhood all the time. Normally, I bring Thomas or Reginald with me, but today I don’t bother. I slip into the elevator and ride it down to the ground floor. I feel nervous as hell. I’ve gone out alone before, of course, but never to see a man that I know I shouldn’t see. I get to the street level and head

outside. I walk down a few blocks toward a small park. It’s dark out though the sidewalks are mostly empty in this part of town. I stop outside of the entrance to the park and check my watch. I’m a few minutes early, so I have to wait. It’s just enough time to wonder if I’m making a huge mistake. Maybe my parents are right. Not about him being “low class” and not worth my time, but about his reputation. I don’t care where Gavin was born or how much money he had growing up, but I am worried about his experience. I don’t have much experience, not compared to him. He knows things and has done things I’ve only ever fantasized about. I don’t know if I can handle the kind of man that would send a woman lingerie and a vibrator, especially a woman he barely knows. But maybe that’s also part of the attraction. And there is an attraction, I can’t deny that. I want Gavin probably more than I even realize, even from the moment I first saw him. I think part of that stems from his experience. He’s older than me, more mature, and more experienced. I want him to show me what to do, to teach me how to have sex, to show me what my body can do. I think he can do that and a lot more.

I’m nervous and practically shaking with excitement when a black car pulls up in front of me. Gavin steps out and grins at me. He’s so damn handsome, just like I remember. He’s tall, muscular, and he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. But there’s a gruffness to him, a hardness that the men I’m used to all lack. He’s confident and serious. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “Were you worried I wouldn’t?” He shakes his head. “Not at all.” He leans in and kisses my cheek softly. I feel a thrill run down my spine. “Ready?” “Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.” I climb into the car and he shuts the door after me, walking around to the other side. Once he’s in, the driver starts going. “Where are you taking me tonight?” I ask him. “Somewhere fun,” he says. “But it’s not dinner, so I hope you’re not hungry.” “I already ate,” I say. “Good,” he says. “We’re going dancing.”

I feel a little flutter in my chest. I’ve been to clubs before, of course, but never with someone like Gavin. We fall into a comfortable conversation until we arrive. It’s a place I recognize, or at least have heard of. It’s new, the sort of place I would have gone with my friends if they hadn’t all left for school. We climb out and Gavin skips the line, nodding at the bouncer as he lets us inside. It’s obviously new. Everything looks clean and like it was recently taken out of plastic or something. It’s pretty crowded, which surprises me since it’s the middle of the week. Gavin walks confidently through the crowd and leads us to a private table. He must have set this up already, because there’s a bottle of champagne on ice waiting for us. “To our second date,” he says, pouring two glasses. He hands me mine and we clink. I sip the cold, sweet, bubbling champagne and look out at the club. Beautiful people dance to the loud beat. Gavin sits close to me, his hand on my thigh, and I feel really out of place. I’m dressed for a walk in the street, not for a night out at the club. I have lingerie on underneath my sweater and jeans, but that’s not enough. I wish I had a cuter dress or something to make me blend in with the crowd better.

Gavin doesn’t seem to mind. He seems to only have eyes for me. I smile at him as he leans toward me. “Dance?” he asks, that one word sending a thrill down my spine. I look at him for a second then quickly nod. I want nothing more than to dance with this man. I want to feel him close to me. I crave it actually. I want to sweat and make him sweat and lose myself out there. He grins and finishes his drink. I do the same, feeling good. He stands, takes me by the hand, and leads me out onto the dance floor. We join the mass of people all writhing to the beat. He moves his hips up against mine and I wrap my arms around his neck as he puts his hands on my hips. We move together like that to the music, and I’m unsure of myself at first. I’ve never really danced with a total stranger like this before. I’ve danced with guys at clubs of course, but my girlfriends were always with me, and it was always something like a joke. But this is totally different. My girlfriends are nowhere to be seen and I’m disobeying my family to be out with this man. He’s much older than me, and I know exactly what he wants from me. Gavin hasn’t tried at all to hide his intentions.

That sends a serious thrill up my spine. I’ve never been with a man as forward as Gavin before. Hell, I’ve never been with a real man before, period. He’s a good dancer, and quickly I forget about my reservations. The crowd is lively and the dance floor is packed, but neither of us seems to really care. Soon it becomes just about me and him, like we’re totally alone in this mass of writhing and dancing bodies. I feel so good. I didn’t know I could feel this good. One song blends seamlessly into another, and we keep dancing, our bodies staying close. I’m smiling, and sweating, and so is he, but neither of us care. All that matters is the beat, his rough hands on my hips. His lips get close to my cheek, my neck, and I can feel his hot breath against my skin. It only makes my body that much more excited as I slide along his leg, moving my hips to the beat. I forget everything. I forget about my parents, about Milo, about my brothers. I forget who I am and pretend to be just another girl in this crowd, dancing with her man, and I feel better than I could have imagined. I don’t know how long we’re out there. An hour at least, maybe two, maybe the whole damn night. We take one break to get a drink of water and a little

champagne, joking and flirting as we sit in our private little booth, but he quickly leads me back out onto the dance floor for more. The lights stay dark after a while, and soon the music slows down a little bit. Gavin grins at me, squeezing my hand, pulling my body tight against his. I can feel his hard cock through his pants and that only sends a thrill through me. I’m dripping wet and have been for a while now. Dancing with him is the most sensual and passionate thing I’ve ever experienced before. We’re practically fucking on this dance floor, surrounded by other people, and for some reason that ignites me, makes me go crazy. He squeezes my ass and smirks at me. “Glad you came?” he asks in my ear as we sway together. “Yes,” I admit, blushing a little bit. “I knew you would be.” And then he tips my chin toward him and kisses me. I kiss him back with an intensity that actually surprises me. I knew that I wanted him, but I had no clue how badly. Now though, as we finally kiss, his lips against mine, his taste in my mouth, I realize

that it’s absolutely overwhelming. I’m risking so damn much to be with this man right now, risking so much for this kiss, and it’s undeniably worth it. He breaks off the kiss after a moment and I see something in his eyes. It’s desire, pure and simple, and I know I’m looking at him the same way. “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. He pulls me away from the dance floor and I follow him back toward the bathrooms. It’s a co-ed bathroom, the kind with a shared sink and mirror but big stalls that anybody can use. He cuts the line, ignoring people’s complaints, and shoves me into the next empty stall, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. I press myself up against the wall. “Classy,” I say. He smirks at me. “You’re too nice,” he says. “A little rich girl. Never been fucked before in a club bathroom, have you?” I bite my lip. I’ve never been fucked before, period. “No,” I say, not wanting to tell him the full truth. “Didn’t think so.” He tips my chin up toward him. “I want to dirty you up, Sadie girl,” he whispers. “Make you experience things. Feel things. You’ve lived in a bubble for way too long.”

I can feel a fire rocking through me as he kisses me again hard. I wrap my arms around his neck and suddenly I don’t care that we’re in some bathroom, locked in a stall with other people all around us. I don’t care about any of that. His hands run up my thighs, sending chills down my spine as he unbuttons my jeans and tugs them down over my hips. He pulls back to look at me and groans. “You wore them,” he says. I nod, smiling at him. “I thought you sent them to me for a reason.” He grabs my hair, tipping my head back. “You’re such a good girl,” he says, and he slides his hand down the front of my panties. His fingers find my swollen and wet clit as he presses against it firmly. “God damn, you’re soaking wet, too.” “Shit, Gavin,” I gasp a little bit, surprised by the pleasure. He pulls my hair tighter, sliding his fingers along my pussy, rubbing my clit, teasing me, before pressing his fingers inside of me. It feels so fucking good. He kisses my neck as his fingers do their magic, working my pussy, and I’ve never felt this way before. He grips my hair hard in his fist and the slight pain only makes the pleasure

so much better. I can’t help but moan, although I try hard to keep them quiet and stifled. I know people are all around us, but it just doesn’t matter to me in this moment. Gavin’s hands do things to my body that I’ve never felt before. “You like being with an older man, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear. I moan a little in response. “I don’t know,” I admit. “This is what you really need,” he says, looking into my eyes. “An older man to take care of you, to teach you things. You’re a good little rich girl, but deep down inside of you, I know there’s a dirty slut just begging to be let out.” I gasp as his fingers press inside of me again and I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I moan, not thinking clearly, not able to. It feels too good. “I know,” he says. “You need a Daddy. A man to make you feel good. To give you what you really want.” His lips find mine again and I’m losing it, completely and utterly. I know where this is leading. There’s some voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me, telling me that he’s going to fuck me. He’s going to do it right here, right now, and oh god, I’ve never done it

before. He doesn’t know that I’m a virgin. He clearly can see that I’m innocent and inexperienced, but he doesn’t know how far that goes. I press my hands against his chest suddenly, terrified of what I’m doing. I feel overwhelmed and scared. What if I disappoint him? I can’t have my first time happen in a bathroom stall. I press him back a little and he looks at me, his head cocked to the side. His hand slips out from the front of my jeans. “Wait,” I say, breathless. “Slow down.” “Slow down?” He smirks. “Your body is saying something different, Sadie girl.” “I know, I just, please. Let’s slow down.” He nods. “Whatever you need.” I lean back against the wall for a second, breathing deep, and he watches me. He smirks a little bit. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get a drink. Take things slow.” I nod and smile a little, relieved. I get myself together and then we leave the stall. I feel a little embarrassed when people stare at us coming out together, but I don’t care what these strangers think.

I almost fucked him in that bathroom with all these people around, and I’m not even drunk. That thought actually terrifies me a little bit. I always saw myself as a good person, someone who had morals and followed the rules, but maybe I’m wrong. I didn’t know that sex could make me feel this way. It’s so good and it’s so wrong, and the wrongness makes it that much better. I know it’s messed up but I would have fucked him back there if I hadn’t said anything. But he didn’t push. I could tell that he wanted it badly, could feel it in his body, but he backed off. I’m a little relieved, actually. I’ve heard so many stories of guys being pushy, but maybe men aren’t like that, at least real men aren’t. Gavin doesn’t seem like the type that needs to pressure someone into sex. Being around him is pressure enough. His confidence is so sexy that I don’t know how long I can resist it. We head back out into the main part of the club and angle toward the booth. But before we can get there, Reginald appears through the crowd. I’m shocked to see him. I stop short and I feel Gavin tense just behind me.

“Miss Sadie,” Reginald says. “Your father sent me to bring you home.” I stare at him, totally shocked. “How—how did you find me?” He shakes his head, face stern. “Doesn’t matter. Please, come with me.” “Sadie,” Gavin says, taking my hand. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” I turn away from Reginald and look up at Gavin. “I should go,” I say. “I had fun.” He nods, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah. Me too.” I kiss him quickly on the cheek, squeeze his hand, and then turn away. I follow Reginald, glancing back only once to see Gavin watching me leave. I’m terrified as I get into the car. Reginald heads back toward our apartment, and I know I’m in deep shit. I shouldn’t be surprised that someone was sent for me. My family is incredibly well connected. At a club like that, there are probably like fifty people that know me by sight, and I bet someone called my father to let him know that I was out with Gavin Waller. My father is going to be livid, but it doesn’t matter.

I’m a grown woman, despite what he thinks, although I am still dependent on them. Still, tonight was one of the best nights of my life. Sure, I chickened out and backed away from sex with Gavin, but still. He felt so good and gave me a glimpse of what it could be like if I finally gave myself to him. I know it’ll be incredible. It just wasn’t the right time yet. I’m going to get yelled at when we get home, but it’s fine. I’ll survive it. And then I’ll call Gavin and see him again, because I haven’t gotten enough yet. In fact, I only just got my first taste. Soon, I’m going to get another.

7

GAVIN

I

sip my beer and glance down at my watch, frowning to myself. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I last saw Sadie, but I haven’t heard from her yet. I know she’s probably in deep shit with her family, but I’m actually starting to worry. That’s a new feeling. I never really worried about a woman before, not this way at least. I have female friends and I’ve gotten close to lovers, but this is a different feeling entirely. I’m almost protective of her. I want to make sure she’s being treated well and taken care of, even if maybe that’s not my role. Not yet, at least. I want to take that on for her though. I want to be the man who protects her, cares for her, takes care of her.

And I have no clue how to feel about that. “You’re quiet,” Chuck says to me. We’re sitting in a little shitty dive bar in the old neighborhood. There’s a basketball game on TV and most of the locals are either drunk or well on their way to being drunk. The place is dingy and poorly lit, which is part of its charm. The bar is old and somewhat sticky from years and years of spilled drinks. All the tables are wood covered with shellac, basically big, plastic, and indestructible at this point. It’s pretty empty, which surprises me. Usually a working class haunt like this would be packed late at night, even on a work night, but maybe the economy is worse than I realized. “Guess I don’t have a lot to say,” I respond. “How’s the girl doing?” He grins at me a little. I sigh. “I was wondering how long before you brought it up.” “Hey, man, I gave you a beer. Now it’s time to talk.” “Took her out last night.” He whistles. “Damn, man.” “It was good. Took her to that new club, Deep Spot

or whatever it’s called.” “Dark Spot,” he corrects. “Whatever. We danced, drank, you know.” “Fucked?” he asks. I give him a look. “Don’t be an asshole.” He laughs a little. “So you don’t kiss and tell now?” “No,” I say pointedly. “And I never did before.” I’m not the type to brag about my conquests. “Yeah, fine, fair enough.” Chuck sips his beer again. “Still, the Tillman daughter. It’s pretty ballsy.” “Yeah, well, I’m not sure it’s going to happen again.” “Why? She get to know you?” He grins at me. I just ignore his lame joke. “Her butler, or maybe her driver, I’m not sure, but anyway, he came and found us.” Chuck raises an eyebrow. “You for real?” I nod. “He didn’t look happy.” Chuck watches me for a second then bursts out laughing. I sigh, sipping my beer. “Holy fuck,”

Chuck says between breaths. “You got fucking caught! With the Tillman daughter!” He cracks up, shaking his head. “Glad you enjoy it,” I mutter. Chuck laughs a little more and gets himself under control. I flip a peanut shell into the basket, not bothering to eat the peanut. I can only imagine how many hands have been in that peanut bowl before mine, but I’m just trying to distract myself and I know it. “So what happened?” he asks me. “Nothing,” I say. “She went home and I haven’t heard from her.” “They probably shipped her off to a convent.” “This isn’t the dark ages.” He grins at me. “It basically is with a family like that.” I sigh and look at the bar. “I’m afraid I fucked up.” “How?” he asks softly. I look up at him. “What do you mean?” “Are you afraid you fucked up because you got her in trouble, or because you got yourself in trouble?”

I blink. “Because I got her in trouble,” I say. “Shit, it didn’t even occur to me that they might be unhappy with me.” “Good,” he says, smiling a little. “Why?” “Means you actually like this girl.” I nod slowly. “Guess I do.” “Come on,” he says, “last drink is on me.” I grin and we start talking about business, but I still have Sadie on my mind as we finish that last drink. It’s around one in the morning when we finally leave. Chuck gets in his car and heads home, and I have my driver take me back to my apartment. I could just go into the office and sleep there, but I want to shower in the morning and we’re not far from my place. The driver drops me off and I tip him before heading upstairs. My apartment is like my second home. I spend a lot of time in the office, mostly because I have everything there that I could need. But it’s still nice to have a home that isn’t in the middle of my job. I take the elevator to the top and step off. I pause outside of my door, cocking my head.

It’s slightly ajar. I don’t remember leaving it open. I frown a little bit and push it open. Maybe one of the people that I hire stopped by, maybe the cook is here or one of the cleaning people. They know I keep weird hours and maybe they figured they’d get an early start or something. But of course that’s a stupid thought, and it hits me as soon as I’m in my apartment. All of the lights are on, which I know I definitely didn’t do. Who the hell would go to their job at one in the morning, unless they were up to no good? I pause in my hallway. “Hello?” I call out. The answer comes back instantly. “In the living room.” A chill runs down my spine. I don’t recognize that voice. I step toward the table in my entrance way and reach for the drawer. I keep a small gun in there, just a little .22 caliber thing, but it’ll be enough. “Don’t bother with the gun,” the voice calls out. “I checked already. It’s empty.” I reach into the drawer, heart hammering, and pick it up. I pull out the magazine and sure enough, it’s empty. Cursing under my breath, I put it back into the drawer and walk slowly toward my living room.

“Who are you?” I call out. “And what do you want?” “No need to be nervous, Mr. Waller,” the man says. “I’m not here to rob you.” I relax slightly at the way he speaks to me. I step into the living room and spot the man standing near the wall-sized windows, looking out over the city. He turns toward me, a smile on his face. He’s in his late forties, maybe ten years older than me. He wears a dark suit, a dark tie, and a white shirt. His hair is thinning and balding in the back, but his eyes are sharp, and he looks like he’s in good shape. He has a square jaw and he clearly works out, though he’s a couple inches shorter than me. If I didn’t now any better, I’d think I could take him. But he doesn’t look like a normal person. I can see it in the way he looks at me. Plus, normal people don’t break into apartments in the middle of the night just for a chat. “Who are you?” I ask him again, standing in the entranceway. He smiles at me and raises his hands, palms out. “My name is Silas,” he says. “I work for the Tillmans. I’m just here to talk.” I frown at him, but relax slightly. If the Tillmans

sent him, that means he’s probably not here to rob and kill me. But he might be here for something much worse. “Do you want something?” I ask him. He smiles slightly. “Interesting. I break into your apartment and you ask if I want something.” I shrug, playing it cool, and walk to the kitchen. “Might as well be polite. Whisky?” He nods. “Okay then.” I pour two glasses and hand him one. I sip mine and eye him. We stand on either side of the kitchen island. “Well, you probably want to know why I’m here.” I nod once. “I’d like that.” “It’s late, so I’ll try and be brief. You seem reasonable, Mr. Waller.” “Call me Gavin.” “Okay, Gavin.” Silas puts his drink down on the counter and looks at me, a little smile on his face. “Truth is, Mr. Tillman is very angry about you seeing his daughter behind his back.” I clench my jaw slightly. “Is she okay?”

Silas smiles a little wider. “She’s fine, as far as I know. Curious that you’d ask.” “I know your employer can be… harsh.” “Harsh. Good word.” Silas takes another sip of his whisky. “I’m here to give you a simple message, Gavin. It’s the kind of message that I’m often hired to give, and I really, really hate giving it more than once. Are you ready?” “Get on with it,” I say, staring at him, anger rising in my throat like bile. “Stay away from Sadie Tillman. It’s that simple. Stay away from her, and everything will be just fine.” I stare at his smiling face and I can hear the threat there, implicit behind his words. “And if I don’t, everything won’t,” I say. Silas just shrugs and smiles, not responding. “Do you always do Tillman’s dirty work?” I ask him. “I’ve been in his employ for many years,” he admits. “Though I have other clients, of course.” He puts his drink down and steps away from the counter. “I’m going to leave now, Gavin.”

“Tell your boss that I’m not interested in his threats.” Silas nods. “I suspected you’d say that. Guys like you aren’t easy to intimidate. You’re from the west side, right?” I hesitate a second. “Right,” I say. “I know lots of guys from there. I grew up there myself. I know you’re used to big thugs trying to push everyone around. But listen, Gavin, and listen closely. I don’t like giving this message more than once. This has been a pleasant interaction. Let’s not have an unpleasant one.” He smiles one last time before turning and walking out. I watch him go and I don’t say a word. Adrenaline courses through my veins and anger clutches at my throat. I hear Silas disappear down the hallway, open my door, and shut it again. I clench my glass and end up tossing back the rest of the whisky in one smooth motion. I’d be a liar if I tried to pretend like it doesn’t freak me the fuck out that Silas broke into my apartment so easily. He could have done anything to me. Fortunately, he just wanted to threaten me, but it could have been much worse. I wasn’t prepared for that, not at all.

But I’m going to be prepared. I believe him when he says that our next meeting will be much less pleasant, and I’m going to be ready for that. Because I’m not backing off Sadie. Those Tillman fucks think they can control her and push me around, but I’m not the kind of man that can be fucked with. When I want something, I get it, and I want Sadie. I want to be her Daddy. I want to dominate her, control her, make her feel things she’s never dreamed of. Her family isn’t going to stand in my way.

8

SADIE

I

expected to get screamed at. I expected my father and my brothers to be there, waiting for me, ready to tell me how I’m disappointing them. Well, maybe not Peter, but definitely Michael. Instead, the apartment was quiet. Reginald told me good night and then left me there. Nobody yelled, nobody scolded, nothing. So I went to bed, still thinking about Gavin. The moment in the bathroom kept coming back to me. It was a potential turning point for me, but I was afraid. I was too scared to really turn away from my old life and embrace something new. If I had slept with him in there, I would be a totally new woman.

Still, making out with him in a stall and letting him touch me like that is something. I’ve never done something like that before, and never imagined I would, not before Gavin. He makes me want to live, to really live. He makes me want to be something more than whatever my family wants me to be. The next morning, I’m up early. I’m a little tired, but I’m going to be brave. I’m going to face my family and the consequences no matter what. I put on clothes, brush my teeth, and steady myself before heading downstairs for breakfast. My brothers are there and so are both my parents. My father glances up from his paper when I come into the room. “You slept late,” he comments. I pause. “I guess so,” I say. I expect him to start yelling any minute. But everyone acts normal. Mother doesn’t look up at me. Peter is busy on his phone. Michael is reading the paper. Nobody is staring at me. Father doesn’t even look angry. He turns back to his paper. I grab a plate and load it up with the usual before taking my seat. I look around, totally confused, but everyone seems

absolutely normal. It feels like nothing at all happened, but of course father knows, and of course mother does, too. Maybe they’re just letting me get away with it. Or maybe their punishment is even worse than I could guess. I dig in, wanting to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. I finish my meal as fast as possible, wanting to get back into my room so that I can text Gavin. As soon as I finish, though, my father puts down his paper and clears his throat. “Peter, Michael, can you excuse us for a second?” Peter looks up, surprised. “Huh? I’m not finished.” “Peter,” mother says. “Please. We need to talk to your sister.” My face turns red. This is the moment I was dreading. I really thought I could get away with it, but apparently not. Michael stands and gives me a little look. I can’t understand it. I don’t know if he knows what I’m in trouble for, or if he’s just always something of an ass. Peter gives me a little smile and reluctantly leaves. He definitely doesn’t know, at least. Mother and father stare at me once my brothers are

gone. My father doesn’t look angry, but he’s not smiling either. Mother just looks tired. “You’re not a child anymore,” father says finally. “You’re becoming an adult, slowly but surely, no matter what we want. And I understand you’re going to want some measure of freedom.” I narrow my eyes at my father. “This isn’t about that.” “Let your father finish,” mother steps in suddenly, sounding angry. Father frowns. “Listen, Sadie. I’m not an unreasonable man. I understand you want to live your life and enjoy yourself. But honestly, Gavin Waller is an embarrassment.” “He isn’t,” I say. “Watch it,” mother says. “Sadie,” father cuts in. “I’m offering you a chance here. A clean slate. No punishments for sneaking off with that low-class man last night, but in exchange, you’ll do something for me.” I pause, a little surprised. I expected him to lose his temper and to yell at me, but he’s being surprisingly calm about this, almost reasonable. “What?” I ask him, skeptical.

“Go out on a date with a proper match,” he says. “Milo’s parents have already agreed. He’ll meet with you tomorrow night for dinner.” My eyes widen slightly. I know my parents want me to marry Milo and unite our families, but I had no clue they’d take it this far. “I can’t,” I say. “You will,” mother says, leaning toward me. “I’m so tired of you being such a little brat—“ “Regina,” my father says, stopping her. “Please.” He turns to me again, his face passive. “If you refuse to see Milo, that’s your choice, but we will no longer support you.” I gape at him. “What does that mean?” “Banishment,” mother says angrily. Father sighs. “Nothing so dramatic. We’ll send you to your cousin’s in upstate New York where you’ll meet with tutors for a few months. You’ll be comfortable there.” “And far away from that man,” mother says. I stare at the two of them. “I’m not a child,” I say softly. “You’re right,” father agrees. “You’re not. But you

rely on us for everything you have. And if you want to continue living your accustomed lifestyle, you will obey.” I frown down at my plate, not able to meet my father’s gaze. I don’t want to go out with Milo. He’s not the worst person in the world, but I’m just not interested in him. Frankly, he’s boring, and I know I’ll never marry him. Or at least I don’t want to ever marry him. Milo doesn’t make me feel even half as good as Gavin does. But I know that my parents can banish me to New York if they want. They can take everything I have away and make my life very, very difficult. Nobody will help me, either, because of how powerful my father is. I know he’s going easy on me right now, but things can be very, very bad. When I was a little girl, I snuck into my father’s office. It was off-limits back then, for good reason. I was stupid and silly, and I ended up breaking an antique model ship, one of my father’s favorites. He locked me in the basement for a week, feeding me once a day, before letting me out. Nobody said a word, but everyone knew what he had done. The staff all knew, my brothers both knew, and my mother knew. But nobody stopped him and nobody said a word.

My brothers have gotten it just as bad in the past. My father beat my brother Peter bloody once. Michael was forced to stand out on the roof in the rain for three hours in nothing but his underwear. I can only guess what my mother has been through. So when my father threatens me, I take him seriously. The money and the clothes and the comfort, that stuff doesn’t really motivate me. Of course, I like that stuff, and I want to be comfortable, but I don’t need that stuff. I want to get out from under my father’s control. But I can’t. Although he threatened to take things away from me, I know he’ll do worse. “Yes, father,” I whisper, and I hate myself for it. He smiles and my mother nods, looking smug. “Very good,” he says. “Tomorrow night. Until then, Thomas will be taking your laptop and your cellphone.” I don’t protest, I simply nod my head and accept it. “May I be excused?” I ask him. “Yes,” he says. “Thomas is already in your room, cleaning it out.” I stand and leave without another word. I hurry back to my room, heart beating fast in my chest.

Thomas gives me a sad look as I come into my room. He has a small box, and in it he has piled every device I could possibly use to contact the outside world. He leaves my room wordlessly, and doesn’t meet my gaze. I shut my door quietly before retreating into my closet. My fucking father. I finally let the anger that I’ve been suppressing flow through me as soon as I’m in my nook. I want to kill him, scream at him, hurt him as badly as he hurts me. But I can’t do anything. I’m powerless here, and I can’t even contact Gavin to explain. He’s going to wonder where I’ve gone and maybe think that I don’t want to see him anymore. I can handle a dinner with Milo. That’s not a big deal. I can get through it and pretend like I give a shit about any of it. But what I can’t handle is Gavin thinking I don’t want him anymore. Because I do. All of this is making me want him even more. Gavin is the first person to let me live the life that I want. He seems to care more about making me happy and making me feel good than getting whatever he wants out of me. He makes everything feel better. It’s just one dinner, I tell myself. Then I’ll get my

phone back and I’ll tell Gavin the truth about what’s happening. He’ll understand. It’s just one dinner.

MILO SMILES at me as he spreads his napkin in his lap. I smile back, trying to make the best of this situation, but inwardly dreading every single moment. “What do you think of the wine?” he asks me. I shrug a little and sip it again. “Pretty good.” He grins. “Pretty good? Please, this is some of the finest wine I’ve ever tasted. A lovely French vintage, I think, from the Somme region.” I frown a little bit. “Doesn’t it say that on the bottle?” He pauses. “Well, of course, but I can taste it in the grapes.” “Right.” He starts in on a little speech about how each different vintage comes out slightly different due to water levels and blah, blah, blah. I tune him out pretty quickly, idly playing with my fork, smiling

and nodding only when required, which isn’t often. The differences between this date and my date with Gavin couldn’t be more obvious. Gavin took me to a personal spot, a place he clearly loved and cared for, while Milo brought me to the most expensive restaurant he could. It’s a lovely place, and I’m sure the food is great, just like the wine is wonderful, but it feels cold. I can’t really explain it. Luberto’s was warm and inviting and maybe it wasn’t fine dining, but it was family style and it was delicious. I sigh to myself and glance down at the table. Milo doesn’t seem to notice that I’m not really listening, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Maybe he thinks that having money and knowledge about things like wine, plus a strong family connection, makes him important and special. Well, it doesn’t. It makes him just like all of the other boys I know: dull and entitled. The waiter comes after a few minutes. He asks if we’re ready, and Milo doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, we’ll start with the anchovy spread and the rustic bread, please. The lady will have the halibut and I will have the risotto.” I blink, a little surprised. I wasn’t in the mood for

fish. I was going to order the biggest, juiciest steak on this damn menu and at least try to enjoy that. But by the time I come to my senses, the waiter is already gone. Milo smiles at me. “Have I ever told you about my father’s yacht?” I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know he had one.” Of course I knew he has one. Every rich person has one. It’s so cliché. “Well, we used to go fishing off the coast of Australia. We’d catch these enormous…” I tune him out again, looking down at my napkin. Milo is nice enough, I guess, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything but talking about himself. In fact, another big difference I noticed between Milo and Gavin is that Milo doesn’t ask me questions about myself. Gavin seemed genuinely interested in me. He asked questions about my life and followed up on the answers. But he didn’t ask much about my family at all, now that I think about it. He was more interested in me, what I like to do, what my hobbies are. Milo only seems to care about himself and his family. He’s the kind of man I’ve met a hundred

times before, obsessed with image and influence, the sort of stuff my own family is interested in. Even Peter buys into that. Peter is the only person in my family who seems to give a shit about me, but even he is obsessed with image and status above everything else. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live a normal life. I wonder if I would be happy without the money and the status. All this privilege gives me great stuff, and gives me so many opportunities. I don’t have to worry about money. But it also forces me into other roles, like having to be basically auctioned off to the highest bidder. I’m more of a tool than a person in my family structure, but with Gavin, I feel like I’m actually valued as a woman. Eventually our food comes, which is a really nice distraction from Milo’s monologue. At some point he switched over from yachts to inheritance tax structure, which is always a popular subject with the ultra rich. It doesn’t matter to me, since I won’t inherit much of anything. My parents want to marry me off to someone else that can take care of me. As I listen to Milo and our dinner finishes up, something important strikes me. Right now, I don’t have anything that’s just mine. Sure, I have a lot of things. I have clothes and

privilege and money and all that, but none of it is actually mine. I didn’t earn any of it. I’ve been given everything, and if my parents have their way, I’ll be given everything for the rest of my life. I see women like that, running charities and having lots of kids, but they never seem fulfilled. Right now, nothing I have is my own, but I want something that’s truly just mine. The dinner ends and Milo pays, of course, making sure I notice the generous tip he leaves. It’s not impressive, since I know that’s all his family money and he didn’t really earn any of it. We head out and Milo’s driver takes us back to my apartment. “I had a nice time,” Milo says to me. He slides across the seat, sitting close. Dread suddenly falls down my throat. “Sure, me too,” I say. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this match. Your parents can be a little… intense.” I smile at him. “That’s true.” “But it is a good match,” he continues. “You’re from good stock and so am I.” I cringe at that word, “stock,” like we’re freaking animals or something.

“That’s true,” I say, wanting this ride to be over so desperately I can practically taste it. “You’ve always been different, Sadie. I don’t know what it is, but I thought maybe you were different in a bad way. But now I see that you’re worth my time.” I cringe again. “Thanks,” I say, looking away from him. He doesn’t get the hint. He reaches out and takes my chin, turning my head toward him. Panic sets in, real and true panic. He leans toward me, clearly intending to kiss me, and I don’t know what to do. I turn my face away from him. He stops, inches away from me. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “I, uh, I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t kiss on the first date.” I don’t look at him. This is so awful. I don’t want to kiss this man or have anything to do with him, but I’m forced to be here. In a lot of ways, he is too, but he doesn’t realize it. “Yes, of course,” he says, moving away. “That’s more proper.” He smiles to himself, creating the lie

in his mind and believing it. Mercifully, the car pulls up in front of my building. He goes to say something, maybe wanting to set up another date, but I don’t give him the chance. I jump out of the car and hurry back inside, not able to stand another second with Milo. I’m so disgusted with myself and with my parents. They know I’m not interested in him, and I should give in to that sort of thing. I’m not just livestock that they can marry off like that, a pawn in their little political game. My heart is hammering as I ride the elevator up to our apartment. I storm inside, intending just to hide out in my room until I’m calmer, but a voice stops me short. “Sadie,” my father calls out from the dining room. “Come in here, please.” I pause for a second then tentatively head into the room. He’s sitting at the head of the table, reading a complicated document, with a glass of brandy at his elbow. He peers at me over his glasses, a small smile on his face. “How was the date, dear?” he asks. I want to yell at him. I want to really lay into him and tell him the truth. I want him to know how all of this makes me feel like less of a person and that

he’s doing this to me. But something stops me short. Sitting on the table next to his brandy is my cellphone. I could yell at him right now. I’m angry enough to do it. But if I give in to that impulse, I’ll never get my phone back. And my phone represents my freedom. That’s how I can get in touch with Gavin again. If I really want to see him again, I need to play the game and be smart about this. “It was nice,” I say, although it practically kills me to do it. Father doesn’t notice my anger or my discomfort, of course. “Very good,” he says, nodding. “I knew you’d get along well with Milo. He comes from good people, very good people, you’ll be happy with him.” I want to puke. “I agree,” I say to him. That clearly makes him happy. He smiles big. “Well. Good. Since you feel that way, I think maybe you should have your phone back. So that you can communicate with Milo.” He picks up my phone and holds it out for me. I take it from him. I feel dirty doing it, but I don’t

care. “Thank you,” I say and I give him a smile. “Good. Now run along. I’m proud of you.” I turn and leave the dining room as fast as I can. I hate having to do that, pretend that I’m one thing when I’m really something else, but I know that I have to. If I want to talk to Gavin, I need my phone. I hurry to my room, shut the door, and lock it. I head into my closet, crawl into my nook, and power my phone on. There are a few messages from Gavin, which isn’t surprising. My heart fluttering, I type out a text. “Meet me tomorrow?” I hit send. The wait feels like years though it’s probably only a few minutes. “Of course,” he says. “When and where?” “Ten,” I type back. “Same place as last time.” “See you then.” I smile and put my phone down, staring at the wall. I’m going against the direct wishes of my family, but I don’t care. I want this man and I want to have someone in my life who actually gives a crap about

me. I don’t want to get shackled to a man like Milo and end up alone and miserable for my whole life. Gavin represents freedom for me, but there’s always another basic truth that I can’t deny. I want him badly. I want him so badly that it makes my whole body feel weak. I smile to myself, picturing the gifts he might send me next, and try to figure out how I’m going to sneak out to see him.

9

GAVIN

I

half expect her not to be there. I don’t know why, but part of me thinks that this is some trick that fucker Silas is trying to play. I can’t resist it, though. I can’t miss an opportunity to see her like this. Maybe it’s not smart to go on this date with her, maybe I should just stay home and pretend like none of this happened, but I can’t help myself. I want Sadie, and I’m going to fucking have her. Tillman can send as many goons as he wants, but I’m not backing down. I’m nervous when the car pulls up, but there she is, standing under a streetlight and smiling. She’s wearing a long tan jacket, like something out of a

spy movie. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she looks absolutely beautiful. I open the door and step out. “I’m glad you came,” I say. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asks. I shake my head. “No reason.” She smiles a little uncertainly. “Well, where are we going tonight?” “You seemed to like our first date, so I thought I’d bring you back there. To that neighborhood, at least.” She smiles as she climbs into the car. I close the door, go around to the other side, and get in. The driver pulls out. “I like seeing where you grew up,” she says. “Good, because you’re about to get a lot of that.” She grins at me. “Oh yeah?” I grin right back. “Absolutely.” “Are you about to show me some old home movies?” she asks, teasing. “Maybe some baby pictures?” “Not exactly,” I say. “But you’d love it if I did. I

was a really cute baby.” “I bet you were.” I laugh a little and ask about her childhood. I listen, actually pretty fascinated, as she talks about vacations to the coast and their country home. “Besides,” she says finally. “I spent most of my time at boarding schools.” “Really? I always thought that was a rich person cliché.” “It is,” she says. “But everyone does it. I think because our parents remember going, and it was like the best time of their lives.” “Did you love it?” I ask her. “Not exactly,” she says. “There were good parts and bad parts. I made a lot of friends, but…” She trails off, shrugging. “But what?” I ask gently. “But I never fit in,” she says. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging.” “You were different,” I offer. “Exactly,” she says. “Different enough, at least.” “You’re not bragging. I saw it as soon as you

stepped out on that stage.” She looks at me for a second then bites her lip. “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know.” I smile gently and lean toward her. “Why’s that?” “My family doesn’t want it.” “I’m not worried about them. Do you want it?” She pauses, maybe a little surprised that I’m asking what she wants. “Yes,” she says softly. “That’s all I care about.” I want to say more, but the car pulls up outside of The Clinic, and I’m interrupted. I look out the window and grin. “Here we are,” I say. “It’s not much.” She smiles. “I don’t care. Let’s go.” I help her out of the car and we looks up at The Clinic’s façade for a second. It’s a rundown bar two blocks away from the house that I grew up in, and I can remember spending a lot of time in there when I was younger. Chucky and I still come here sometimes, and I know the owner pretty well, a woman by the name of Lucy. We step in through the worn green front door, and instantly I’m hit with nostalgia. The place looks like

a million dives before it, although the bar itself is really gorgeous. Lucy herself is working tonight and she gives me a little wave as she pours a drink. Chuck is sitting at the bar, and he pretends not to notice me coming in with Sadie, although he knew full well this was my plan tonight. I told the asshole not to show up, but of course he did. I steer Sadie over to a booth. “Sit tight,” I say to her. “There’s someone I need to see real fast.” She nods and sits down as I head over to Chuck. “I told you not to come,” I say to him. He just grins. “Couldn’t help myself. Had to see her.” He looks over my shoulder. “I can understand why you’re taking such a big risk on her.” I sigh, shaking my head. “Hey, Gavin,” Lucy says. “Hey, Lucy. Can I get a whisky and a wine?” “Sure thing.” I turn back to Chuck with a frown. “You might as well come meet her.” “Oh really? Am I so important now?” He gives me a fake little smug look.

“Cut that shit out,” I say. “Be normal, all right?” “Always am, Gav,” he says. Lucy returns with my drinks. I give her a nice big tip, since she won’t let me pay for them normally. We’ve gone through that dance one too many times in the past. Years ago, I gave her a little loan to help her keep the place open during some hard times, and drinks have been free ever since. She paid me back, of course, so I don’t feel like she owes me. Now I pay her through tips, which she complains about sometimes, but she always takes it. Chuck and I head back over to the booth. Sadie looks up and smiles as we approach. “Sadie,” I say to her. “This is Chuck. He’s an old friend.” “Charmed,” he says, grinning. “Nice to meet you.” They shake hands and then the two of us slip into the booth. Chuck sits opposite of Sadie and me. “How long have you known Gavin?” Sadie asks him. “Oh, god,” he says. “Years. How long’s it been, Gav?”

I shrug. “High school,” I say. “Really?” she asks, laughing a little bit. “You guys were friends in high school?” “We’re both from the neighborhood,” Chuck says. “Gavin got out first, but I wasn’t too far behind.” “Chuck works on Wall Street,” I explain. She nods, understanding. “Tell me an embarrassing story about him from back then,” she says to Chuck. His grin gets bigger and he looks at me. “I’ll let you choose. Deer or pie?” I groan a little bit. “Deer,” I say. “Please, never the pie story.” He laughs a little. “I’ll let him tell that one,” he says, looking back at Sadie. “Now I’m interested,” she says, nudging me. “Tell me the pie story. Is it, like, an American Pie thing?” Chuck laughs and I shake my head. “Not at all,” I answer quickly. “Chuck, just tell her the damn story.” “Back in the day, we had a senior prank thing. Kids probably still do it,” Chuck starts out. I sip my whisky, smiling a little bit. I actually like this story.

“So Gavin here gets it in his head that he’s going to have the best prank of all time.” “Oh, no,” Sadie says, sensing where this story is going. “Oh, yes,” Chuck says. “Gavin bought this, what was it, deer piss?” I nod. “Deer urine.” “Gotcha. Deer piss. It attracts deer, right? So he takes his uncle’s truck with this horse trailer on the back, fills the trailer with food and deer piss, and he leaves it there.” “My uncle was pissed,” I say, grinning. “Did that actually work?” she asks, astounded. “Well,” Chuck says. “The next day, it’s senior prank time. It’s lunch, I’ll never forget this. Our cafeteria has these big doors that go outside. Well, in the middle of the lunch period, those door suddenly get thrown open and Gavin yells, ‘DEER!’.” “I wasn’t too creative,” I say to her, shrugging. “So he throws open the back of the trailer, and this freaking deer, scared out of its mind and flipping out, runs into the cafeteria. Kids start to freak, run away, it’s total chaos as this deer runs around,

kicking and breaking shit. It was total madness.” “I got suspended for a week,” Gavin says. “What happened to the deer?” Sadie asks, laughing. “Janitors caught it eventually and had animal control take it away.” Sadie laughs, shaking her head. I grin at her, a little embarrassed, but it is a good story. Chuck mercifully left out the part about the deer kicking some poor kid in the arm and nearly breaking it. That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. That poor deer was probably scarred for life, although I don’t think it was ever actually hurt. Sadie seems to like it, at least, and the conversation quickly moves on to other memories. Chuck keeps it light and stays away from the more embarrassing tidbits. I finish my drink and Sadie finishes hers, which finally prompts me to drag Chuck away, back to the bar under the pretext of getting more drinks. “Well?” I ask him. He shrugs a little. “I like her.” “So you get it then?” His smile slowly fades. “Listen Gavin. That girl is trouble.”

I pause, a little surprised. Sadie is lovely, smart, and entertaining. She’s clearly getting along great with Chuck. As far as I can tell, the night is going perfectly. “Why do you say that?” I ask him. “Same reason as before. She’s charming, smart, pretty, all that,” he says quickly, “but she’s still a Tillman.” “And that’s trouble,” I finish for him. “That’s right. It’s trouble.” Chuck gives me a serious look, a rarity for him. “Don’t get too involved.” “Don’t worry,” I say. “I know what I’m doing.” “Says the guy that once released a freaking deer into a crowded cafeteria.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Do what you got to do, I guess.” “Don’t I always?” He grins and shrugs a little. “You sure do.” I clap him on the back, gather my drinks from Lucy, and head back over to the booth. Chuck stays behind to close out his tab, since his part of the evening is finished. I slide back into the booth across from Sadie.

“Chuck coming back?” she asks. “No,” I say. “I think he had enough stories.” She pouts. “I wasn’t finished. He was just getting to the good stuff.” “There is no good stuff, I promise you that.” “I don’t think so,” she says, smiling a little. “You have a bad reputation.” “That’s because you rich folk think us poor people are all bad apples.” She smirks a little. “You’re rich folk too now, remember?” “Hm. Guess so.” I look at her for a second and an idea hits me. “Let’s get out of here.” She nods. “Okay. Where to?” “Come on. I’ll show you.” I stand up and she hesitates before following me. I take her hand, as natural as can be, and she doesn’t seem to mind. We head out into the night. My driver is parked not too far away, but we walk right past him. She looks at me a little hesitantly. “Where are we going?” she asks.

“Nowhere,” I say. “We’re just walking.” “Isn’t this…” She trails off, looking down at the ground. “A bad neighborhood?” I finish for her. “A little bit yes and a little bit no. You’re not more or less likely to get mugged here than you are anywhere else.” She nods a little bit. “My parents raised me to think that this place is the worst place in the world.” I laugh a little bit. “I’m not surprised. But really, most muggers are in your neighborhood. That’s where the rich people are.” She smiles a little bit. “I’m sorry if I seem so out of touch.” “It’s okay,” I say. “It’s pretty adorable, if I’m honest.” “I’d rather not be adorable.” “What do you prefer then?” I ask her. I pull her hand, tugging her into an empty storefront doorway. She stumbles up against me, hands on my chest as I lean up against the glass door. She bites her lip, looking up into my face. We’re totally alone here on the street. “I don’t know,” she says.

“I’ll tell you,” I whisper in her ear. “You want me to think you’re sexy, don’t you?” “Maybe,” she breathes. “You do,” I say. “Right now, you’re soaking wet, just thinking about what I could do to you right here and now.” “We’re in public,” she protests, surprised. “Maybe,” I say. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?” I kiss her neck softly, moving up toward her mouth. Her breathing gets fast and my heart starts to thump quickly in my chest as I press my lips against hers, kissing her deep. She kisses me back, wrapping her arms around my neck. I turn and press her up against the glass door, making her gasp slightly. She’s so fucking sexy, so goddamn gorgeous, that I can’t help myself. My hands roam her hips, feel her ass, and I have to resist the urge to pet that soaking little pussy of hers right here in the street. Slowly, I break the kiss off. “Is this why you came out with me again?” I ask her. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Liar.” I smirk a little bit. “You’re here because we

have unfinished business.” “You mean from back in the club,” she says, and bites her lip. “That’s right. You disappeared on me for a little while after that.” “I couldn’t contact you. My father took away my phone, and I know it sounds so childish, but it’s the truth.” “I understand,” I say gently. “You need someone to take care of you.” “I don’t know,” she admits. “I’ve been taken care of all my life. Maybe I just want to live.” “Maybe,” I concede. “But I don’t see why you can’t do both.” I kiss her again, this time more deeply, more passionately. My hands linger on her body and I can sense the tension between us, heavy and thick and intense. She breaks the kiss off after a moment, breathing heavily. “Gavin,” she whispers as my hands cup her ass. “I have to tell you something.” “What?” I ask her. She hesitates. “You’ll think less of me after I say

it.” “Doubtful,” I say, fingers running through her hair. She pulls back and looks in my eyes. “I’m a virgin.” I stare at her for a second, holding her hair in my fist. “You’re a virgin?” She nods once. “I’m sorry,” she says, talking fast. “I should have told you sooner. I just, I don’t know, I just never had sex, it just never happened, so now—“ I cut her off with a kiss, deep and serious. I hold her hair tight in my hand as desire floods my whole body. A fucking virgin. I had no clue. I assumed she had slept with one of her rich boyfriends, like all of her friends were no doubt doing. Instead, she’s pristine, untouched, and inexperienced. She probably thinks that’ll turn me off, but it drives me absolutely crazy instead. I want to be the man to teach her everything she needs to know. I want to be her Daddy, taking care of her, giving her everything she needs, while opening her eyes to the pleasure I can make her feel. The kiss breaks off after a slow moment. “I don’t mind one bit,” I say softly.

“Really?” she asks, eyes wide. “Really,” I confirm. “In fact, I’m having a hard time not taking you right here.” She laughs softly, relieved. “I thought you might be angry.” “Angry? Because of who you are?” I shake my head. “I like who you are.” She smiles at that. “I’m sure you’ve been with more experienced women.” “Maybe,” I say. “But I can teach you things. God damn, girl, I can show you what it means to fuck.” She bites her lip and I kiss her again, her hair in my fist. Our kiss is interrupted by a group of young guys walking down the other side of the street, acting loud and obnoxious, clearly drunk. Sadie watches them nervously and I just smile. “Come on,” I say. “Where to now?” she asks. “I should get you home.” She bites her lip. “Really?” I nod. “Really.” I show her my watch. “It’s already after one.”

Her eyes go wide. “Are you serious?” “Seriously. Those kids are probably heading to their last bar.” “Shit,” she says. “Okay. Let’s go.” I take her hand and we walk back to my car together. Fucking virgin. I can’t believe it. She’s so goddamn sexy, with a body that was built for pleasure, but clearly she’s been so repressed her whole life. She doesn’t know what it means to live. I can teach her. I can show her things she has no clue about. I’m going to take her virginity and dirty up her clean little body, push her boundaries, make a little whore out of her. I’ll turn this virgin dirty, and she’s going to thank me for it. First, I have to get past her family. As we walk, I replay the encounter with Silas again, wondering if he’s watching us. Fuck him, I hope he’s watching. Let those Tillman bastards know. I don’t want to get Sadie in trouble, of course, but I’m not afraid of them. We need to play this carefully, but I trust Sadie. I assume she’s taking precautions and being careful. Her parents are going to catch us sooner or later, and that Silas bastard is going to come back, but I just hope it’s

not for a while. I need more time with Sadie. I need lots and lots of time to get to know her nice and properly. We get back to my car and get in. The driver heads back to her apartment. We chat some more about the neighborhood, though she seems distracted the whole time. The driver stops in the same place we picked her up earlier. She leans toward me, and I grab her, pulling her over to me. She smiles and gasps a little as I put her in my lap and kiss her deeply. “I want to see you again soon,” I say. “I can’t be impatient again.” “Okay,” she agrees. “We can do that.” “Good.” I kiss her neck gently. “You know that I can take care of you, right?” “I know,” she says. “Just say the word. Whatever you need. All you have to do is call me Daddy.” She bites her lip, looking in my eyes. “I’m afraid,” she says. “You don’t need to be.” I kiss her one more time. “First though, we’ll need to teach you some

things.” “Like what?” she asks. “Next time,” I say, gently moving her from my lap. “Get back home. Don’t get caught.” She nods a little, lingering. “When can I see you again?” “Soon,” I say. “Good.” She gives me one last kiss before getting out of the car. I can barely stay calm as the driver takes me home. This night has been fucking incredibly, absolutely amazing. I had no clue she was a virgin, but that makes this so much better. I wanted Sadie before, flaws and all, and I still do. But now I get to teach her to feel things, to really fuck, to use that body the way she needs to. She’s going to be mine to train into the perfect little fuck doll, and I can barely fucking wait.

10

SADIE

L

uck was with me that night. When I got home, the staff was gone and my family was either in bed or not home. Which means I was able to slip back into my room without anyone even noticing that I was gone. That’s the best part of being the youngest daughter in a family that clearly doesn’t value women. They don’t notice when I’m there, and apparently they don’t notice when I’m gone either. I collapse in my bed, feeling so good and excited. The night had melted by and it was an incredible success, or at least I thought so. I was scared as hell to tell Gavin about being a virgin, but he didn’t seem to mind. That intrigues me even more, if I’m honest. I

assumed that a man with his reputation would want a woman with more experience, not some dopey virgin like me. But apparently that didn’t change his mind one bit, and if anything, he seemed even more excited after I told him than before. He seems to actually want me for me, not for my money or my family. And he’s clearly willing to let me come into his world, or at least as much as I want to. I met his best friend, drank in a bar he frequents, and heard some pretty funny childhood stories. Those stories painted a picture of a man much more complex than he lets on. His reputation suggests that he’s a relatively simple man who lives for pleasures, but that’s clearly not true. He’s smart and has real hobbies, like collecting old cars and stereo equipment. He has friends that go back years with stories about him from when he was a kid. That’s such a big deal, since it means that he’s capable of keeping a relationship alive for a long period of time. So few friendships survive through life, and the ones that do are special and important. After all of my friends left for college, and so many of them just stopped contacting me entirely, I can see how special it is that he’s kept a friend from high school for so long. People are fickle, but loyalty is

attractive and something I want from a man. I fall asleep thinking about the way he kissed me on the street. Nobody has ever kissed me like that before, or even treated me like that. I’ve always been seen as this rich little girl, this special flower that can’t be disturbed too much. I’ve always been treated so gently, and sometimes with a little fear, because people are worried about my family. It’s different with Gavin. He doesn’t care about my family. In fact, he wants me despite them, and that’s so attractive it’s hard to explain. The next morning, things seem fine. I stop in the dining room to grab a quick breakfast, and nobody looks at me twice. As far as my family can tell, I’ve been a good, obedient daughter. They probably don’t know that I snuck out last night. That excites me more than I thought it would. I retreat back to my room, grab a shower, and think about the implications. Last time, I got caught because I asked permission to go for a walk. When I didn’t come back, my father must have sent Reginald out to get me. I don’t know how he tracked me down, but he did. This time though, I just left the apartment without saying a word, keeping my door shut. Everyone probably assumed I was holed up in my closet,

reading a book or something. That’s not a bad assumption to make, or at least it wasn’t. But I can use that. I can sneak out of here whenever I want. I’m practically invisible to them, and for the first time in my life, that seems like a good thing. I get back to my room after showering and sit down on my bed pretzel-style. Still wrapped in my towel, I grab my phone and my laptop. I’m surprised when I see a text on my phone. It’s from Gavin. “I keep thinking about last night,” he says. I smile to myself and type back. “Me too. I really had a lot of fun.” He responds immediately. “Do you still have that gift I sent you?” I bite my lip as a thrill runs through me. “Yes,” I send back. “Good. Go get it.” I stare at the screen for a second, and suddenly I’m nervous. But I do as he asks me. I go into my closet and fish the vibrator out from where I had stashed it.

“Okay,” I type back. “I have it. Now what?” “Last night, you told me something,” he writes. “You said that you’re a virgin. And I think you were nervous about it.” “I was,” I send back. “I thought you wanted someone with more experience.” “I don’t care about that,” he replies. “But I’m going to teach you, Sadie. You may not have experience now, but you will soon.” I bite my lip, excitement running through my body, and I glance down at the vibrator. I feel a little intimidated, but excitement floods my body at the thought of his hands on my skin. I quickly get up, still wrapped in only a towel, and I head over to my bedroom door. I make sure it’s locked before getting back into bed. “How are you going to teach me?” I ask him. “Skype me. [email protected].” I stare at his message, heart hammering in my chest, and I know what he wants. I’m nervous, maybe even a little afraid, but I can’t help myself. I quickly get up, dropping the towel, and grab a plain white t-shirt, a little see-through, and a pair of cute panties. When I’m slightly dressed, I hesitate before pulling on a pair of long knee-high socks. I

finally fix my hair in the mirror, pulling it into a braid, despite it being wet. Finally, I grab my laptop and the vibrator and head into my closet. I shut the door and turn on the light before settling into my little nook. I put the laptop down, open the lid, and bring up Skype. I’m nervous when I type in his email and start the call, but he answers right away. Gavin’s handsome face appears on the screen, smiling at me, a little morning stubble along his chin. “It’s good to see you,” he says. I smile. “Yeah, you too. Nice apartment.” He grins at me. “Nice… closet?” He cocks his head a little bit. I laugh and pick up the laptop, showing him the space. “Yep, it’s a closet. It’s a little more… comfortable than my room.” “Looks cozy.” “Where are you?” I ask him. “In my living room.” He picks up his laptop and shows me his place. I got a quick view of a large wall that’s all windows and overlooks the city. I see the kitchen, which is all spacious and modern, before coming back to him. His apartment is nicely

decorated though simple, which doesn’t surprise me. I bet he had someone come in and set it up for him, and hasn’t changed a thing since. He’s shirtless, and I’m surprised to catch some tattoos on his skin. He watches me with amusement for a second. “Nice,” I say. “You’ll see it for real soon. If you want.” I nod quickly. “Yeah. I’d like that.” I feel really nervous, I realize, way more nervous than when we went out together. “Do you know why we’re Skyping right now?” he asks me softly. I nod slowly. “I think so.” “Tell me why.” “You want to teach me.” “That’s right.” He smirks at me. “And I want to watch. Make sure you’re doing exactly what I tell you.” “Okay,” I say, leaning back. “What do you want me to do?” “First, close your eyes.” He waits a second. “Go

ahead, really close them.” I smile and close them. “Okay,” I say. “I want you to picture us together, alone, maybe alone in this little spot of yours. You’re dressed the way you are right now, and you look so fucking sexy. I can barely keep my hands off you.” “What are we doing here?” I ask him softly, already feeling the excitement. “Hiding,” he says. “We’re hiding from your family. But not in a bad way. You took me into your closet because you wanted privacy.” He pauses for a second and I let that sink in, amplifying my desire. “Imagine the way I kiss you,” he continues. “Imagine me pressing you against that wall, taking your wrists and pinning them up against the wall. Imagine my lips lingering along your skin as I press you there, holding you tight, kissing you, slowly moving my palms down the length of your curves. How do you feel?” “Excited,” I whisper, seeing it in my mind. I’m dripping wet, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t actually say those words. It’s too dirty. “Good,” he says. “I kiss your lips and your neck before my hands move down to your breasts, teasing them, teasing your nipples. One hand

remains on your breast while the other slowly sinks down to your panties.” I bite my lip, breathing faster and deeper as he speaks. I can practically feel the graze of his rough fingers over my soft skin as he speaks to me in his deep and sexy voice. “Now, Sadie, I want you to take your hand and do what I’d do.” I open my eyes, a little surprised. “You what?” “Close your eyes,” he chides. “Go ahead. Close them.” I bite my lip and do as he says. “Now, take your right hand and slide it down the front of your panties.” He pauses and for a second, I’m not sure if I can do it. But the image in my mind of his fingers down between my legs pushes me onwards. I do as he says, slowly sliding my hand down the front of my panties. “You’re dripping wet,” he says. I let out a soft, surprised moan. “I knew it,” he continues. “I knew you’d be soaked. You’re so desperate for my touch, you absolutely crave it, and you’re finally getting it. Now, slowly and gently, rub that nice little clit of

yours.” I do as he says. I’ve gotten myself off before in the past, so I know what I like, but I’ve never, ever, ever touched myself in front of someone else. I’ve never done anything like this. And it’s so fucking exciting. Instantly pleasure rolls through me and I keep my eyes shut tight, afraid that if I open them, I’ll get too nervous. “My fingers down between your legs,” he says, almost a whisper, chills running down my spine. “I kiss your neck and bite your lower lip as I rub your clit in circles. Over and over, softly then harder, responding to your every moan and move.” I touch myself as he speaks, seeing this in my mind. I can feel his hard body against mine, his muscles tough and intense as I touch myself. I can hardly believe that I’m doing this, but it’s way too exciting to stop. And it feels good. I can’t deny that. It feels so damn good. “I slide my fingers down to your pussy and press them slowly inside of you. God damn girl, you’re so fucking tight, and I love how warm and slick you are. My cock is so hard as I kiss you, my tongue in your mouth, my fingers deep inside of your pussy.”

I do as he says, pressing my fingers inside of myself. I can’t believe how good it feels. My fingers are smaller than his, so I can only imagine what that would be like. And his cock is bigger than either of our fingers. He’ll tear me to pieces when I let him fuck me, and as I sink my fingers deep inside of myself while he speaks to me, I can’t wait for it. Moans escape my lips as he watches. I fuck myself with my fingers, slowly at first. “Not too fast,” he whispers. “I want to make this last. I press them deep in and out, teasing you, before pulling them back and working your clit again.” I follow his directions, word for word, feeling myself. “That’s right. I roll back and press them inside, good girl, just like that.” “Oh shit, Gavin,” I whisper. Pleasure floods through me. I know he’s watching me, actually watching me touch myself. It’s so dirty that I’m doing it for him. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do something like this, like my nerves would stop me. But as soon as he started talking to me, and I actually touched my body to his voice, my nerves

instantly dissolved. I don’t feel self-conscious anymore as I run my fingers inside of myself, fucking my own pussy while Gavin watches me. I can’t believe how good it feels. I’ve touched myself before, of course, but never like this, never with a man talking to me and watching. That just makes it so much hotter. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this for him, but pleasure rocks through me and I know I can’t stop. “God damn, girl,” Gavin says. “Do you know how sexy you are, moaning like that? You like my fingers deep in that wet little cunt, don’t you?” I gasp a little. He’s so dirty. “Gavin,” I moan. “Don’t.” “Don’t?” He smirks at me. “You mean, don’t say cunt? I think you like it. You want me to be dirty. You’ve been too good for too long, now it’s time to be bad for your Daddy.” I groan, fingers rubbing myself faster. “Take off your panties,” he says. “Now. I want to see that dripping wet pussy.” I obey him, sliding them off. I spread my legs, even though I’m a little self-conscious. “Fucking hell,” he says. “You’re goddamn perfect.

I want to tongue that little pussy until you scream. Pick up that vibrator.” I do as he commands, heart hammering. “I’ve never used one of these before.” He smirks a little bit. “Good. You’re in for a treat. Turn it on.” I hit the button and it starts to vibrate. I giggle a little bit. “It’s funny, but you’ll like it,” he says. “Close your eyes now.” I do as I’m told, leaning back and settling in again. “Now, take the vibrator, and gently roll it along your clit. Gently at first.” I do it, and gasp as pleasure floods me. “Holy shit,” I say. “Imagine that’s my tongue and lips, sucking your clit while my fingers fuck you,” he says, his voice deep and sure of itself. I moan, head tossed back as I work myself with the vibrator. “Just as you get close, I’ll grab your hips and turn you around, spread your legs wide. You want to spread wide for me?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I moan. “Yes, what?” “Yes, Daddy,” I say, and desire floods through me. “That’s a good girl. Now work that pussy. I’m going to spread those legs wide and slide my thick cock deep inside of you. I don’t think you can handle it at first, but we’ll work you nice and slow, get you good and wet.” I roll the vibrator along my clit then slide it down to press inside of myself. It feels so good as I roll it up and down my pussy, inside and back to my clit. I can hear his voice but it’s getting lost in the pleasure as I get nearer and nearer to an orgasm. I can feel it building inside of me. The vibrator is almost too intense. “When you’re ready, I’ll fuck you deep and hard. I can fill your little pussy up to the brim, stretch you out, rip you apart. I’ll fuck you rough and slap your ass, make it hurt a little bit, make you beg for it.” I’m so wet, so dripping wet, and I need him. I need Gavin so badly I can barely think. The vibrator feels good, but I want his hands, his mouth, his skin against me. I can’t stop though, not with his voice pushing me further. “I’ll pull that hair and fuck your cunt deep and

hard. Do you want to come on Daddy’s big fat cock?” he asks me. “Yes,” I moan. “God, I want to come.” “Go ahead,” he says, low and sultry. “Go ahead and come for Daddy.” “Oh fuck,” I groan, and I know I can’t stop myself. The vibrator pushes me over the edge as I come nice and hard. Gavin watches, but I don’t care about that. In fact, as soon as I start to come, I open my eyes and look at him. I want to watch him watching me. I like that I’m seen, I like that this is so dirty. It’s filthy and dirty and god it feels good, so fucking good. I shouldn’t be doing this but that only makes me want it more. I come hard while Gavin watches. He smiles at me as I slowly finish. I turn off the vibrator, the intensity too much for me, and set it aside. “Good,” he says. “Very good.” “I need to see you,” I say, panting, buzzing with pleasure. He smiles at me. “I know you do.” “When?” “Tomorrow,” he says. “Same time, same place?”

I nod my head. “Yes, please.” “Good. Practice with that before you see me tomorrow. I want you ready.” “I will be.” I pause, before adding, “Daddy.” He grunts his approval. “Go get some rest,” he says. “I’m going to make you feel good tomorrow.” “I can’t wait,” I say softly. “Talk later?” “Sure.” I blow him a kiss. He grins and then disconnects. I watch the screen for a second before collapsing back against the pillow, hugging my knees up to my chest. I can’t believe that just happened. I just got myself off on camera in front of Gavin while he talked to me. I guess that was like long distance sex or something. It was dirty and he has such a filthy mouth, but I really, really liked it. I want more, actually. I want a lot more. I want him to do everything he said he’d do and more. I want to feel his big cock between my legs and let him lick my pussy until I scream. I need him to teach me. He’s my Daddy and I need him to make me feel good.

11

GAVIN

I

keep thinking about Sadie getting herself off for me. She seems so innocent and good, but there’s a dirty freak locked deep inside of her, begging to get out. She just needs a man to teach her. When she calls me Daddy, my fucking cock gets so hard I can barely breathe, and I need more of that. I want to feel her pretty lips wrapped around my tip, feel her saliva sliding down my skin as she sucks me. I want to taste her and feel that tight virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. I can barely concentrate when I finally decide to go into the office. All that day I’m distracted. We text back and forth, mostly just talking about nothing. I ask about her life, getting to know her, and it feels

good. I feel excited, giddy almost. It’s absolutely strange to feel like I’m getting this deeply involved with a woman so much younger than me, especially one that I shouldn’t have anything to do with. But Sadie is clearly more than just a spoiled little rich girl. She’s gorgeous, of course, and fascinating. And I can’t help but like the fact that she’s a virgin and wants to give herself to me. It’s more than that. I like talking to her, like getting to know her. I actually enjoy finding out what makes her happy, what makes her sad, and generally what makes her an interesting person. And I like telling her about myself. I never expected to have a secret relationship with a girl her age, but here I am. I can’t exactly stop it. I wouldn’t want to, even if I could. She makes me feel too damn good to stop. Finally, the next night arrives. Instead of taking the town car like usual, I decide to drive myself. I take one of my old classic cars, a black Mustang from the ‘70s. As I pull up in the usual spot, I don’t feel nervous. I feel only excited. She’s standing underneath the light again. She’s wearing a short skirt and a light gray blouse open at the top two buttons, showing off just enough of her breasts. I roll down the passenger side window and

grin at her. “Need a ride?” I ask. She laughs and leans down. “I didn’t know you knew how to drive.” “I may be a city boy, but I can do things.” “You’re a rich city boy, at that.” “Get in here before people think you’re a hooker.” I grin at her. She blushes. “Gavin!” “What? You think there aren’t hookers in this city?” She grumbles a little and climbs in. “Nobody’s going to think I’m a hooker.” “A very, very high-class hooker,” I say to her. “Of course.” She nods. “That’s better.” I grin and roll up the window before pulling out into traffic. “So, where do you want to go?” She raises an eyebrow. “No plan this time?” “None,” I say. “I decided it’d be more fun that way.”

She smiles and leans back in her seat. “Okay then. How about you give me a little driving tour?” I grin at her. “I guess you are new to the city.” She laughs. “Lived here most of my life.” “What about when you were at boarding school?” “Good point.” She shrugs a little. “I still think of this place as home.” “I get that,” I say. “Even if you’re not at a place all the time, it can still be home.” “Exactly,” she says. “This city, I don’t know. It’s in my family’s blood.” “I thought you didn’t buy into that family stuff.” She gives me a look. “I don’t, but I can’t deny who I am.” “Good point.” “And there are parts of my family that I like. We have breakfast together every morning, did I tell you that?” I grin at her. “I didn’t know that. Very cute.” “I guess it’s cute. It was better when I was a little girl. It’s strained now.”

“Strained how?” She shakes her head. “Father and mother aren’t exactly in love anymore. And Peter is the only person that I get along with.” “You’ve talked about him before,” I say. “That’s really good. I wish I had a sibling.” “Maybe,” she says. “Except you could end up with one like Michael, and he’s the worst.” I nod knowingly. “Good point. He is the worst.” She laughs and I turn down along a backstreet. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t really care. We keep chatting as I drive around aimlessly. The streets are mostly empty, but I drive slow anyway, mostly just to enjoy the city. We pass a few parks, groups of kids out late drinking too much, homeless people, even a family of four with an exhausted toddler hanging off the father’s arm. Sadie talks more about her family, about growing up in boarding school, about being raised by nannies. It’s such a foreign world to me. I was raised by my mother and my father, both working class people. Dad drank too much and Mom constantly gave him shit for it, but that never changed. They both smoked, which seemed normal back then, but I realized now that they both

smoked way too much. Dad died of heart disease ten years ago, and Mom died of cancer five years after that. There’s one thing I’m thankful for. Although my parents couldn’t afford to send me to school, I still made it anyway. I made something of myself, and they saw that, at least a little bit toward the end. I don’t know what it would be like to grow up in a family like Sadie’s. I’d be a different man, I’m sure, maybe someone like Peter or like Michael. It’s amazing how much of you is created by chance, by the people you’re born to. Most of what you are is absolute luck, and not at all earned. I know that and so does Sadie. I was lucky to be born smart, and she was lucky to be born rich. “I have an idea,” I say to her suddenly. “A spot we can go see.” “Take me there,” she says, grinning. I pull a U-turn and head out west. Along the edge of the city runs a river, pretty dirty, but there are still some fish in it. I park my car in a mostly empty lot and we get out, waking toward the river. Ahead, there’s the start of a black wrought-iron staircase that descends down suddenly toward the water, down below the sidewalk.

“Come on,” I say to her, stepping onto the stairs. “Down here.” She frowns. “That can’t be safe.” I bounce up and down hard on the stairs. They flex a little bit, which actually does make me nervous. “It’s totally fine,” I say. “Yeah, okay,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.” “That’s my girl.” I grin at her and we head down. I glance back up at her and catch a glimpse of her panties under her short skirt. She catches me looking but doesn’t do anything to stop me. We get to the bottom of the stairs and step out onto a small walkway. There are some trees planted here, a couple benches, and a beautiful view of the river. I step up to the edge and look out. She joins me, wrapping her arms through mine. “Wow,” she says. “I didn’t know this was here.” “Been here as long as I can remember. I went fishing here with my dad once or twice when I was a kid.” She squeezes my hand and we stand there for a second in silence, looking out over the water. I can’t help but wonder how I got to this moment.

A gorgeous, beautiful rich girl on my arm, much younger than me, and a virgin. She wants me to teach her, to show her how to fuck, to use that beautiful body of hers. I feel lucky, but also I know she’s just as lucky. Because she gets me to be her Daddy. There are a lot of shitty assholes in this city, and a lot of them run in her circle. The rich may be rich, but they’re also people, and people tend to be assholes. I like to think I’m not an asshole, or at least not a bad asshole. I squeeze her hand. “Come on,” I say to her. “Where to now?” “Back to my car.” I don’t elaborate. I suddenly feel flushed as I pull her back toward the stairs and we climb back up. The lot is empty and there’s nobody around at all as we get to the car. I grab her hips and press her up against the passenger side. She smiles a little. “We could have done this down there,” she says. “No,” I say softly. “Not what I want to do right now.” She looks a little surprised and I kiss her deeply. I love her taste, the way she kisses me back with little moans, her tongue so soft against mine. It

drives me fucking crazy to explore her body. My hands move along her hips and slide down underneath her skirt. I run my hand along her inner thigh until I get to her pussy. I can’t help but smirk when I feel it, wet already. “You were thinking the same thing as me,” I whisper in her ear. “What’s that?” she asks softly. I slip my hand underneath her panties. I find her wet, swollen clit, and start to gently rub. “You were thinking about the other day. About what I said I want to do to you.” “Tell me again,” she whispers. I rub her clit slowly. “I want to slide my thick fingers into this little pussy. I want to suck your clit and tongue your cunt until you scream my name and come in my mouth.” “Oh shit,” she moans softly. I smirk, sliding my fingers down, and press them deep inside of her. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy for a long time,” I say. “Ever since I first saw you. I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” I reach behind her and open the car door. She’s surprised when I pull it open. I push her down onto

the passenger seat then drop down to my knees in front of her. I spread her legs wide and reach up under her skirt. “Gavin,” she says. “Somebody might see us.” I grin. “Nobody is here. And we both know you don’t mind that.” I slide her panties off and toss them aside. “Gavin!” she says. I reach up and take her hair, tipping her head back. “No more complaining,” I say. “You just let me lick this little pussy until you can’t stop yourself from coming.” She bites her lip and I spread her legs wide, hiking her skirt up. I kiss up her inner thigh before my tongue finds her clit. She groans, tossing her head back as I start to suck and lick her swollen little spot. I love her taste, her delicious little taste, as my tongue and teeth and lips do their work. I’ve never been so goddamn hard before in my life, but just the taste of her wet, pink little pussy drives me absolutely crazy inside. Her moans fill my head and drive me forward as I slide two fingers deep inside of her.

“You’re delicious,” I say. “Goddamn delicious. I’ve been dreaming of a pussy like this my whole life.” I reach up, fingers buried inside of her. I pull her toward me and kiss her deep on the mouth. She doesn’t shy away from her own taste that’s still on my tongue. I pull back and drop down between her legs. She braces herself as I fuck her pussy with my fingers, sucking and licking her clit. I want to fuck her right now, sink my cock deep inside of her, but she’s not ready for that. I want to get her off first, make her come, make her know what I can do to her. I love the way she moans, like with her whole body. She shudders and writhes as I suck and lick and finger-fuck her cunt. I’m not holding back at all, not easing her into this. I want it to be hot and dirty and fast, something she’s never experienced before. “Oh god, Gavin,” she moans. “That feels too good. Oh shit, I don’t know, I don’t know if I can take it.” “You can take it,” I say, fingers sliding in and out of her. “Go ahead, take it, you dirty fucking girl. Call me Daddy while you come.” I go back down, sucking her clit, licking it. She grabs the back of my head, pressing me down harder as I continue to do my work. She’s clearly not letting up as I push her further, licking her

harder and faster, getting dirty, her pussy dripping wet. Her hips move in rhythm with my mouth and I know she’s close. She can’t stay quiet. She’s not holding back. Any thoughts she had about being in public are obviously gone now. I watch her face, and I know she’s close. I suck and lick her faster, moving faster, fingers buried inside of her. “Oh shit,” she says, and her whole body tenses. I know she’s coming, and I don’t stop. Her orgasm tastes incredible as it rushes through her body. She comes with every muscle, tensed and relaxed and tensed again, and I can see the pleasure on her face. She lets out one low groan, deep and intense. I don’t let up and I don’t hold back, making her orgasm as intense as possible. Slowly, she finishes. I slide my fingers out of her and clean them off with my mouth, savoring her. She watches me with a mixture of shock, desire, and pure bliss. I smile at her then help her shift into the car so that I can shut the door. I close it when she’s ready, then walk around to the driver’s side. She looks at me. “That was amazing,” she says. I smirk at her. “Good. You have a lot to learn. But I

can tell you’re eager.” She blushes. “I guess so.” I put my hand on her thigh. “Come on. Let’s get you home.” She bites her lip. “Really?” “We don’t want you to get in trouble. Besides, that’s enough for tonight.” I start the engine and begin to pull away. “Wait, my panties.” I grin at her. “Leave them there.” “I can’t go around in a skirt without panties!” “I want you to,” I say. She blushes even deeper. “Yes, Daddy.” I groan a little. “You’re learning so fast.” We head back to her place. I stop at the usual spot and pull her against me, kissing her full and deep. It takes all my willpower to pull away. “I’ll see you again soon,” I whisper. “Yeah. Soon.” She kisses me one last time. I watch her climb out and walk away. Her taste lingers on my lips as I drive home, though I follow

her at a discreet distance to make sure she gets inside safely first. Once I’m home, I get into my apartment, and my phone suddenly buzzes. I pull it out and it’s a picture from Sadie. I pull it open and can’t help but groan. It’s a picture of her ass with the skirt hiked up in her bathroom mirror, no panties on. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to fuck this girl and soon.

12

SADIE

A

fter Gavin drops me off back home, I still feel like I’m flying high.

That was such a good date. Not just because of what happened at the end, although that of course is still very much on my mind. But the whole thing was easy and fun. He showed me a part of the city that I never saw before, and I feel like I’m really getting to know him. I never expected Gavin to open up to me the way he has been. From what I know about him, which I have to admit isn’t a whole lot, he doesn’t seem like the type of man to really want to talk about himself and his past. We come from such different worlds, and the more I learn about him, the more I’m impressed with him.

And of course, there’s that moment back in the car. I never thought I’d let someone go down on me like that, let alone right out in the open where anyone could see. But it was so freaking hot, so incredible, that even as I head up to my apartment, I’m still floating from it. Gavin is everything that he’s been promising and probably more. He already made me feel something I never expected, and that’s only the start. I got a taste of what he can do to my body, and I already know that I need more, and badly. I get upstairs, smiling to myself, and slowly open up the front door. I shut it quietly behind me, trying to stay as silent as possible. The apartment is really big, and the bedrooms are far from the front entrance, but it’s possible that someone’s still awake. I don’t want to get caught. I creep down the hall toward the stairs that lead up to the second floor and all the bedrooms. I’m a little nervous, though still happy. As I get near the staircase, a sound suddenly stops me short. I turn and my older brother Michael is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning at me. “Are you just getting home?” he asks me. I pause, not sure what to do. “No,” I say, shaking

my head. “I just went for a walk around the building.” His frown deepens. “I didn’t hear you leave and I’ve been down here for an hour.” Shit. What the hell is he doing? I’ve never been close with Michael, not even when we were kids. Maybe it’s because he’s four years older than I am, or maybe it’s because I’ve always preferred Peter. Or maybe it’s just because Michael is a lot like my father. He shares all those values and doesn’t seem to question anything about our family. Michael is the ideal son, at least according to my father, and that’s bad news for me. I know he believes that if my parents think I should be married off to Milo then I should just do it, because that’s what’s best for me and for the family. “I guess you weren’t listening,” I say, and turn to head upstairs. “Wait,” he says, coming toward me. “Hold on.” “What?” I ask him, heart hammering in my chest. “Are you wearing makeup?” I laugh a little bit, nervous and afraid. “I always wear makeup.” “No, you don’t,” he says, watching me quietly.

“Where are you coming from, Sadie?” He knows. I can see it in his eyes. He put it together already, but he wants me to admit to it. He wants me to come out and say it. “I was out,” I say softly. “And it’s none of your business.” He shakes his head. “Father will be angry if you were with that Gavin man.” “Why do you even care?” I ask him. “Because I’m worried about you.” That catches me off guard. I expected him to say something about duty to the family and upholding the family honor, but his response is totally not what I thought. He looks sincere as well. “Don’t be,” I say to him. “That man is a lot older than you,” he continues. “And he has a bad reputation. Sadie, I know we haven’t always been close, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I’m okay,” I say to him softly. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Michael, of all people. I always thought he only cared about me because he had to, but this seems like genuine concern.

“Just be careful,” he says. “There’s a reason father doesn’t want you with this man.” “Don’t worry about me,” I say to Michael. “I’m being careful.” “Okay.” He shakes his head. “Mom and Dad are asleep, so just be quiet.” I nod to him gratefully and hurry upstairs, not wanting to push my luck. I partly expected him to start yelling, but that concern was totally unexpected. I feel incredibly fortunate and grateful as I get into my bedroom and shut the door, forgetting about Michael almost as soon as the lock clicks into place. I should get to bed, but there’s one last thing I want to do. I head into my bathroom and take a picture for Gavin, something sexy, something I’ve never done before. I’m smiling to myself as I hit send, all concern and worry completely gone.

THE NEXT MORNING , I wake up from a single text from Gavin. “Good morning. I’ve been looking at your picture all night. I need to see you again.”

I smile to myself and respond. “Soon,” I type, and hit send. I toss my phone aside then get up and get ready for the day. I leave my phone behind when I head downstairs for breakfast. I’m feeling good, totally sure that I didn’t get caught. Mom and Dad were asleep and so they never heard me come in. But as soon as I walk into the dining room, I know something is wrong. Mother and Peter aren’t there. Michael looks up at me with a frown then glances at father. “I’ll leave you two alone,” Michael says. My father nods. “Thank you, son.” Michael gets up and walks toward the door. When he’s on his way out, he pauses and looks at me. “This is for your own good,” he says softly, and then leaves. Terror rings through me. I look at father and I know. Michael freaking told on me. I can’t believe it. That’s the most childish and awful thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I was starting to think that he was a real older brother and I totally misunderstood him, but clearly I’ve been right all

along. He only cares about the family and about doing what father tells him to do. “Let me explain,” I say, but he stands. “No, let me explain.” His eyes are cold and angry. “You’re forbidden from leaving this apartment. You’re forbidden from seeing that man ever again. You may not communicate with him. You may not do anything that I don’t approve of. Do you understand?” I stare back at him and I have to hold back my tears. I’m so freaking angry I could scream. I don’t want to cry because I’m sad, I want to cry because it’s taking so much effort not to scream at him. I’m not a little girl. I’m not some child that he can push around. I’m an adult, and I need to start acting like one. I nod my head once. “Whatever you say, father,” I respond, practically spitting the words at him. “Good.” He sits back down. “You’re dismissed.” I stand there for a second, staring at him. “One day, you’ll realize that I’m not a child anymore,” I say softly. “Unfortunately, you are still a child, and you will behave.” Father looks down at his paper. “Go back

to your room. I’m finished with you.” I stare at him, shaking with rage, but I turn and leave. I don’t want to scream at him, because I know it’ll only make things worse. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Michael is a traitor, an asshole, and a bastard. Father is going to crack down on me harder, probably get some staff members to spy on me or something. I bet he’ll turn off my WiFi or change the password or something like that. And I’m sure Thomas is already taking away my phone. I’m not letting this stop me. Maybe I can’t do anything about it right now, but I’ll figure it out. I’m smart and a grown ass woman, and I need to get the hell out of this house. If I want to see Gavin, I’m going to see Gavin. I won’t be used as some political piece by my family, and I won’t be treated like a little child. I take a deep breath, steady myself, and then begin to plan.

13

GAVIN

I

don’t hear from Sadie for a week.

At first, I figure it’s just because she’s busy, or maybe because her family is pressuring her to stop seeing me. But her phone goes straight to voicemail and my messages are ignored. I try writing her, and I even send her another present, this time a box with a new computer inside of it, but everything is ignored. There’s no reply. She never comes back on Skype, and she never answers any of my written letters. I don’t know what the fuck to think. “Seems pretty obvious to me,” Chuck says. We’re out to lunch exactly one week after I last saw Sadie.

“I’m sure it does,” I grunt at him. “She got sick of looking at your ugly face.” I sigh, shaking my head. “Too soon.” Chuck frowns, sipping his whisky. “Damn. I’ve never seen you like this before.” “Like how?” I ask. “Acting like a heartbroken little girl.” He grins at me. I glare at him. “I’m not fucking heartbroken. I just don’t understand.” “I don’t know, it seems obvious to me. The girl’s family hates you with a passion. And she’s clearly being controlled by them.” “Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “The fucking Tillmans.” “That’s right. The fucking Tillmans.” I sip my beer, not in the mood to be out right now, but Chuck insisted. I’ve been moping around too much, or at least according to him I have been. I’m not fucking moping. I don’t mope. I just want to understand why Sadie disappeared after sending me that text in the morning, just a single word. The

night before was so damn good, and things felt really perfect, and then she suddenly just disappears on me like a ghost. “You have to admit,” Chuck says. “There’s a little irony in this.” “Guess I don’t see it.” “I mean, you’ve done this to plenty of girls.” I can’t help but grin a little bit. “No way. I’m more tactful.” “More tactful?” Chuck laughs, shaking his head. “Remember that Slovenian model you were dating for a little while?” “Oh yeah,” I say, grinning back at him. “What was her name?” “Who cares? She was hot as fuck. But when she wanted you to meet her family back in her country, what did you do?” “Shit,” I say. “It’s not like that.” “You didn’t call her again. Cut off all contact. You ghosted her ass so fast.” “She was asking me for money,” I say, but Chuck isn’t having it. In my defense, that is true. She was asking for a loan so she could start her own

modeling company. Plus, she was something of a head case. I definitely ghosted her, but for good reason. I was afraid she’d try and stab me. “You’ve done this to countless women,” Chuck says. “Not just one crazy model.” “They all know the score,” I say. “They know they get one night and that’s it. I thought it was different with Sadie.” “Maybe,” he says, a little softer. “Maybe it was supposed to be that way. But look man, she’s not answering you anymore. She’s gone. Let it go.” I glance down at my drink, not sure what to say. I can’t accept that. I’m not some heartbroken little puppy dog blubbering into his beer, but I’m not just going to roll over and die either. Chuck thinks I’m moping, but the truth is, I’m trying to figure out my next move. Clearly, I’m not getting anywhere trying to contact her through traditional methods. I’m betting her family has her on lockdown. My current theory is that she got caught coming home that night, but didn’t know it until the next morning, after she texted me. That’s when she disappeared. Her family hates me so much that maybe they sent her away, out to a convent or some shit like that. The

Tillmans have enough money to make their daughter disappear. Which is actually terrifying. But fortunately, I have enough money to make her reappear, I just have to figure out how. Chuck thinks that’s a bad idea. He thinks I should just swallow my own medicine and move on. But he never really thought this thing was a good idea to begin with. He’s afraid of the Tillman family, and for good reason. They practically own this city, or at least have politicians in their pocket. If they wanted to go after my business, they absolutely could. Their businesses are strong and deep, and they have a lot of ties in the community. They could hurt me if they really wanted to. I just can’t worry about that stuff. I’ve been through so much in my life that I can’t imagine letting some rich assholes push me around. Besides, I know Sadie wants me, it’s her piece of shit family that’s holding everything back. “I get where you’re coming from,” I say to him eventually. “I really do. Maybe from your perspective, she’s not worth all this.” I pause and then look up at him. “But man, when was the last time you saw me give a shit?”

He looks at me, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know,” he admits finally. “I haven’t given a shit about much of anything in a while. Business is booming and I have pretty much no problems.” I shake my head slowly. “And yet, I haven’t been happy.” “I’ve noticed that,” Chuck admits. “Women, money, it all comes easily to me. But Sadie, she’s different. I don’t know what it is, but I feel something around her.” “But she’s gone,” Chuck says, still frowning. “Maybe,” I admit. “But if she’s worth all this, at least to me, shouldn’t I pursue it?” He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. For me, it’s not worth any of this, but what do I know? I’m just a single asshole.” I grin at him. “You’re definitely an asshole. I’m just saying, I can’t give up so easily.” “All right. If that’s what you want, obviously I got your back.” “I appreciate that.” “Now, let’s talk about something that’s not so fucking boring,” he says, a big grin on his face.

I agree, and we change the subject easily. We have a decent lunch, Chuck grabs the check, and I decide to head back home. I keep thinking about Sadie as my driver drops me off at my apartment. Once inside, I check my messages and my email, but there’s nothing from her of course. I need to figure out what to do about this. So far, the only thing I can think of is to hire a private investigator and have him track her down. Maybe that way, he can get a message to her in a way that I can’t. But I don’t know any PIs, and I’m not sure there are many that will be willing to go up against the Tillman family. I’m sure if there’s a PI out there worth his salt, he’ll know all about the Tillmans and be smart enough to stay away. Still, I have to try, and so I end up spending the next couple hours making phone calls, trying to track down someone who’s willing to help out. I almost don’t hear the knock at my door. I’m so consumed with finding a PI that I nearly totally ignore the knock. Only when it comes a second time do I finally snap out of my trance and quickly head to my front door.

I pause for a second before opening it. I don’t know who to expect, but I’m tired and impatient. It’s probably just the doorman with my packages or something. I don’t expect to see Sadie standing on my doorstep, looking out of breath. “Hey,” she says. I stare at her. “Sadie.” She smiles. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.” “It’s okay.” I step aside. “Come inside.” “Okay. Just for a minute.” She steps into my hallway and I shut the door behind her. She looks gorgeous, so goddamn attractive, just like I remembered. “Where have you been?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear. It’s just, I got caught after the last time I saw you.” Of course. I step toward her and take her hips, pulling her against me. She wraps her arms around my neck and I kiss her deeply, feeling so fucking relieved. Some part of me did believe that she simply didn’t

want anything to do with me anymore. That was something I didn’t really want or maybe couldn’t really handle. But that’s not the case. She didn’t ghost because she just didn’t want me, she ghosted because she had no other choice. The kiss finally breaks off and I can feel my heart hammering. “What happened?” I ask her. “My older brother, Michael. He was awake when I got home.” “Shit,” I say. “Your own brother dimed you out?” “He didn’t mean it,” she says, brushing me off. “He wanted to do what he thought was best for me.” I nod slowly. Her family structure is complicated, and I know she doesn’t get along well with her older brother. I decide not to press it. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say to her. “I can’t stay long. I’m out on a shopping trip and I ditched my chaperone to come up here.” I grin at her. “You’re going to get in trouble.” “Probably.” She shakes her head. “I don’t care. I’m sick of being a prisoner in my own family.” I grin and kiss her gently on the lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She kisses me back, long and slow. Slowly, we break off the kiss. She looks gorgeous with her flushed cheeks, a little tired, still a little out of breath. I want to take her back into my bedroom and fuck her deep and slow, reward her for coming to see her Daddy even when she knows she shouldn’t. Instead, I content myself with holding her, however briefly. “I don’t know how I’m going to contact you again,” she says. “I just want you to know… no, I need you to know, that this wasn’t my choice. I want to see you.” I nod my head slowly. “I understand.” “They took away my phone, my laptop.” “Are you getting mail?” I ask, though I know the answer. “No.” She pauses. “Did you send something?” “Letters. And a package.” Her face is horrified. “But nothing inappropriate,” I say quickly. “Good,” she says, a little relieved. I grip her hand for a second. “Wait here.” I quickly turn and head back into my bedroom, smiling to

myself. I find an old phone that’s tucked away in a drawer. There’s also an old SIM card in there, which I grab and slip into the phone’s slot. When I’m done, I meet her back in the hall. “Here,” I say, handing it to her. She takes it with a little smile. “A flip phone?” I grin. “Better than nothing.” “Why do you even have this?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “Just one of those old things I kept around.” She laughs a little. “Does it work?” “It will,” I say. “Just find a charger for it. Any little USB charger will work fine, I think. I’ll have the SIM activated as soon as you leave.” She bites her lip. “Okay,” she says. “This is perfect.” “Keep it safe. Call and text when you want. I’ll get you a better one as soon as we see each other again.” “Thank you.” She kisses me softly on the lips. “I have to go now.” “Okay,” I say. I walk her to the door and open it for

her. She lingers in the doorway until I kiss her one last time. She smiles at me then hurries away. I watch her get into the elevator. She blows me a kiss and laughs as the doors shut on her and she disappears. For a second, I feel like this didn’t really happen. But it was real, all right, and she has my old phone. I hurry back inside and call my assistant. He’ll get the SIM set up somehow, and soon I’ll be able to talk to Sadie again. So much for needing a private investigator. This isn’t a perfect solution, and things are going to be hard from here on out, but at least I know what the deal is. She’s still mine, and I’m still her Daddy.

14

SADIE

T

homas gives me a look when I come jogging up to the car.

“Where did you go?” he asks me. I smile a little sheepishly. “Sorry,” I say. “I thought I saw someone I know.” He stares at me for a second. “Did you find him?” he asks. I shake my head. “I was just confused,” I say. He nods and we get back into the car. Reginald glances back at me and then pulls back out into traffic, heading home. I’ve been cooped up in the apartment for the last week, and I’m bored out of my mind. I didn’t think

my father was being literal when he said I couldn’t go anywhere, but he wasn’t kidding. I only managed to get out for an afternoon of shopping by convincing Thomas to be my chaperone. And I chose Thomas for a reason. He likes me, and he’s easy enough to trick if it comes to that. I feel bad honestly, using Thomas’s own kindness against him, but I had no other choice. I chose a place near Gavin’s apartment and the first second I got, I ditched Thomas and ran up to Gavin’s place. I’m glad that I did. The cellphone’s weight in my pocket is comforting as I sit there, looking out the window, ignoring Thomas’s annoyed grumbling. Nothing bad happened and my father never needs to know that I ran away, so he won’t get in any trouble. And now I have a phone to contact Gavin with, even though it’s the oldest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s around five by the time we finally get back to the apartment. I quickly head upstairs and into my room, not bothering to stop and say hello to my parents. I’ve been ignoring them ever since they decided that I’m a captive in my own home. Peter isn’t even around to keep me entertained, since he’s away on some trip with his friends. And I’m not interested in talking to Michael.

I bite my lip as I shut my door and get into my little nook. I quickly text Gavin. “Hello? Is this thing on?” He responds a minute later. “Safe and sound?” “Yep!” I type back. “The smuggling operation was a success.” “Good girl. I knew you could handle it.” “I’m glad I finally have a way to talk to you. I missed it.” “You missed what?” I bite my lip, staring at the screen. “Talking to you,” I say. “That’s not what you meant,” he responds, and I can see the insinuation in his message. “Maybe,” I say, smiling to myself. This is the happiest I’ve been in a while. I’ve been cooped up in the apartment, hidden away from the world, and now finally I can talk to the only person who I really feel like talking to. My phone vibrates with a response from him, but I don’t get a chance to see it. There’s suddenly a knock at my door, and I panic a little bit. I turn off the phone and hide it in with the vibrator before

getting up and answering the door. It’s Michael, frowning in at me. “Father sent me to get you,” he says. “We’re having dinner.” “I’m not hungry,” I say, and go to shut the door. Michael puts his hand out and stops me. “This isn’t optional. Milo is here.” I raise an eyebrow. “Milo’s here right now?” “Yes,” he says. “So please, put on something nice and come down to dinner. You’re expected shortly.” “And if I don’t come?” I ask him. “Are you going to tattle on me?” He sighs, shaking his head. “That was for your own good, Sadie. You think I wanted to do that?” “Yes,” I say to him, staring him in the eye. “Fine, go ahead. Hate me. But I’m your older brother, and I can’t sit around and let you make a mistake like dating Gavin Waller.” Michael can’t even say Gavin’s name without looking absolutely disgusted. “I’m an adult, Michael,” I say to him. “My mistakes are my own. You can’t control the world.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But you still have to come down to dinner. So please, just come.” He turns and leaves without another word. I sigh and head back into my room. The last thing I want to do is have family dinner with Milo. I know my parents are going to try and set us up again, but I have no choice. I can’t just ignore it like some little girl. I get changed and head downstairs. I know I’m in for something painful, but I have to do it anyway. I’m determined to get my family to finally recognize that I’m a person with my own wants and needs, not just a pawn in their political game. The family is seated at the dining room table, everyone except for Peter. Milo sits in Peter’s usual spot. I take the seat across from him, and he smiles as I sit down. “It’s nice to see you,” Milo says to me. “Good to see you, too,” I say. I don’t bother looking at my father. “We were just discussing Milo’s business venture,” my father says. “It’s quite interesting.” I glance at Milo. “What is it?” I ask him. “Oh, nothing fancy. Just a little consulting firm. I’m

helping tech developers secure funding for their projects.” “He’s doing quite well,” mother says, clearly more impressed by his income than by his skills. “I didn’t know about that,” I say, already bored of this. “I’ve been keeping it private,” Milo says. “But you’re like family now. So I might as well share.” I look up at him quickly. That last comment was strange. What does he mean, we’re like family now? That doesn’t seem right. As far as I know, he’s still just the son of a family friend at best, even though my parents do want to marry me off to him. Did something happen? Before I can ask, the first course is served. Father, Michael, and Milo all begin to discuss the latest market trends, and I quickly tune them out. I wish I had my phone so that I could message Gavin, but that would be akin to suicide. Instead, I have to settle for ignoring the man my family wants me to marry in favor of dreaming about the man I actually want. It’s an awful situation, but there’s nothing I can do. I get through dinner with the minimum amount of pain, only responding when I absolutely have to.

That’s fine with the men, of course, since they’re more interested in hearing themselves talk than they are in anything I might have to say. The main course comes and goes and eventually we’re all sitting at the table, drinking decaf coffee. Mother stands and excuses herself after a few minutes, followed by father. Michael is the last one to make some excuse, leaving me there with Milo. I realize too late that it’s a trap. I’m too polite to tell Milo to leave, and if everyone else has gone, I’m forced to sit down there with him. This is exactly what father and mother want, of course. “So, Sadie,” he says, smiling at me. “I’m glad we’re doing this.” “Yeah,” I say, being polite. “Same. It’s nice.” “We don’t see each other nearly enough.” He smiles again. “No,” I say, not wanting to elaborate. He stirs his coffee with a spoon. I look down at mine, a little milky white spreading through the black, and then look back at Milo. “I’m glad you finally changed your mind,” Milo says to me. I cock my head. “About what?”

“About our marriage.” He shrugs and smiles, leaning back in his chair. “I know it’s a little, ah, old fashioned. But we’d make a very good pair. Our families would be stronger together.” I stare at him, a sinking dread spreading through my whole body. “Our marriage?” I ask him. His smile falters just a touch. “Yes, of course. Your father spoke with mine, and they agreed that we’d get married in the spring of next year. He said you agreed to it.” His comment about practically being family becomes suddenly frighteningly clear. I push back my chair and stand very quickly, trying to keep myself under control. “Excuse me, Milo,” I say. “I’m not feeling well.” He says something, but I don’t hear him. I turn and walk as fast as I can out of there, my heart hammering in my chest. My father fucking married me off behind my back without my consent. Like I’m some kind of property, he agreed to a weird arranged marriage that I have no say in. And to make matters worse, he didn’t tell me about it. He didn’t even bother to inform me about his little deal, although Milo clearly knows all about it.

I’m livid, absolutely livid with anger. I want to scream and yell and tear down this house. I can’t believe they’re trying to force me to marry Milo like this. I don’t hesitate. I walk right into my bedroom, grab the phone, turn it on, and message Gavin. “Pick me up tonight at midnight. I’m ready.” I hit send, not caring what that means. He responds almost immediately. “See you soon.” I hide the phone away again and curl up on my bed, trying not to yell and scream. I have to get out of this house and see someone who actually cares about me, and the only person that fits that description is Gavin. He’s the only man that actually cares what I want and makes me feel happy. I’m done playing pretend. I’m finished with my family. I’m going to do what I want, for myself, finally. I’m going to let Gavin give me what I’ve always dreamed about.

15

GAVIN

S

he’s quiet on the ride over to my apartment. I try to draw her out in conversation, but she clearly doesn’t want to talk, and I don’t want to press. Something happened. That’s pretty obvious. Something has been happening, but this is new. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that I have to wait until she’s ready to talk. I don’t want to push and risk upsetting her further. We get back to my apartment and head right upstairs. Once inside, I pour her a glass of wine and I get myself a whisky with a single large piece of ice. I swirl it around as she goes and sits on my couch. “You’re quiet tonight,” I say.

She shrugs a little bit. “I guess so.” I walk into the living room and go to the fireplace. It has a little gas nozzle in the back with a starter and a fake log. I just have to hit a single button and the fire starts up. “You don’t have to talk,” I say to her. “If you don’t want to.” She gives me a little smile. “Oh yeah? What should we do instead?” I shrug. “Do you like puzzles?” She gives me a look. “Like what kids do?” I grin and nod. “Sure. We could do a puzzle. Maybe we could play Yahtzee.” “I can’t tell if you’re joking.” I laugh and sit down on the couch next to her. “Do I really seem like the type of man to play Yahtzee?” She smiles a little bit. “You never know.” “Ouch. That’s almost insulting.” Her smile grows. “You’re the one trying to make a puzzle.” “I’m willing to try anything to get you to quit sulking.”

She crosses her arms. “I am not sulking.” “You are. I don’t know why, and you don’t have to tell me, but you really are.” She sighs and looks down at the couch. She sips her wine. “Remember the guy you were bidding against?” she asks. “Vaguely,” I say. “His name is Milo Fitzwilliam.” That sounds familiar. “Old family, right? They own that bank?” She nods. “Our families are very close, or at least they used to be.” I can feel a tingling in my toes as I start to understand. “And your family, they like this Milo guy, right?” “Right,” she says. “It’s so awful, Gavin.” “What did they do?” I ask her softly. “I’m like a piece of furniture to them.” She stands up, looking angry, and paces across the living room. “They want me to marry Milo, not because I want to, but because it would be good for our family

politically.” I watch her silently, but inwardly I can feel my anger growing. Her fucking family is unreal. They’re like some ancient dynasty from Europe or something, trying to marry off their daughter to better their family’s position. It’s so fucking strange and inhuman. She’s a goddamn person, with wants and needs and desires and dreams, but her father seems to think she’s just a chess piece to be used as he sees fit. It’s so infuriating. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I say, standing. “That’s the thing,” she says, whirling on me. “They don’t care what I want. They already went behind my back and told Milo and his family that I agreed to the marriage.” That hits me like a blow to the chest. “They did what?” “They tried to marry me off behind my back,” she says softly. I can see the tears spring to her eyes. I go over to her quickly and take her in my arms, pulling her against me. “You don’t have to do it,” I say.

“Then what?” I ask him. “My family will disown me, and everything I am is tied up in them. I don’t even have an education because they wouldn’t let me.” “We’ll figure it out,” I say, totally at a loss. She shakes her head and I hold her tightly, trying not to let the anger that’s rolling through my body show too much. They really don’t care about her at all. But she’s right, everything she has is totally tied up with her family. They were smart when they wouldn’t let her go off to school. She doesn’t have any independence because they’ve made her that way. Now that she’s finally seeing what they did to her, it’s almost too late. But not totally. I can help her. I just need her to know that she has other options. I tilt her head up toward me. “So that’s why you’re here,” I say softly. “Why you said you’re ready.” She nods slowly. “I am ready.” Desire slowly floods through me. “Are you sure?” I ask her. “I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not prepared for.” “I’m sure.” Her eyes are gorgeous and I can’t help

myself. I kiss her full and deep. I let myself get lost in the moment, and for a second, I forget all about her family. I forget about the fact that they want me to stay far away from her, and can probably hurt me pretty badly if they want to. I forget about Silas and about Chuck warning me to stay away from her. I forget about it all. There’s only Sadie in this moment. I kiss her deep, my tongue in her mouth, her taste in mine. I slowly pull her shirt over her head and toss it aside. She’s wearing a gray bra and I feel her breasts as she presses tighter against me. I cup her ass and pull her tight, kissing her deeply. She doesn’t resist when I step back slightly and unbutton her jeans. I tug them down over her hips, getting her partially naked. She stands there in just her bra and matching panties, and my cock is hard as fucking hell. I step back and look at her, which only makes her blush. “Turn for me,” I say. She obeys, turning around. “I’ve never let someone look at me like this before,” she says, a little shy. “I know that,” I answer. I slap her ass and she

seems surprised. “Gavin!” “No,” I say, taking her hair in my fist. I pull her back against me, her ass against my hard cock. “Right now, I’m your Daddy.” She gasps as I reach around her hip with my other hand and slowly slip my fingers down underneath her panties. She’s dripping wet, just like I knew she would be. I slowly begin to rub her wet clit in circles, causing her whole body to tense. I grip her hair with my other hand, and I know that I’m going to dominate her. I want to destroy her fucking pussy, fuck her hard and deep, make her scream. But I have to hold myself back, at least at first. She’s a virgin, and she’s not used to a man like me. But I’ll teach her.

16

SADIE

P

leasure washes through my body as his fingers begin to roll around my clit in soft motions. I can’t believe that he has me halfnaked already, my hair in his one fist, his other hand down my panties. I press my back against him and feel his hard body behind me as he slowly touches my body. This is what I need. I want to forget about my problems, but more than that, I want to feel good and give myself to a man like Gavin. He’s perfect and I know that I’m making the right choice. “Tonight, you’re going to find out what it means to have a Daddy,” he says softly in my ear. I moan a little bit at his touch. “Yes, Daddy,” I say. “I want you to teach me.”

“Here’s your first lesson: get down on your knees.” Excitement floods me as I drop slowly down to my knees. He’s still behind me, as he reaches down to unhook my bra. He feels my bare breasts, bending forward to kiss my neck. I reach up to run my hand through his hair. He steps back after teasing my hard nipples and takes my wrists. He puts them down behind me. I hear him pull his belt from his pants. I gasp as I figure out what he’s doing. “Gavin!” I groan. I feel his breath hot in my cheek. “Daddy,” he gently corrects. “Make that mistake again and I’ll punish you.” I bite my lip. “Daddy. What are you doing?” “I’m tying your hands behind your back.” “I’ve never done this before.” “Good.” He kisses my cheek gently. “There’s a lot you’ve never done.” He expertly wraps the belt around my wrists, binding them together. It’s tight but not too tight, and I can’t move them. He walks around me slowly, looking at me as I’m kneeling on his living room floor.

I’m suddenly very aware of him, of every move he makes. I’m so excited that I can barely think. He pulls his shirt off and slowly removes his pants until he’s just standing there in his boxer briefs. His body is immaculate, amazing, ripped and gorgeous. He has tattoos, which doesn’t surprise me. He steps forward and takes my chin, lifting it up. “Little Sadie,” he says. “Here’s your last chance. If you’re afraid and want to back out, I’d do it now. Because after this,” he smirks at me, “you won’t want to.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper. “Good girl.” He steps back from me and pulls down his boxer briefs, revealing his long, thick cock. I stare at it, completely shocked. He’s bigger and thicker than I’ve ever seen before. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t sure if I could handle a guy like him. “Gavin…” I say softly. He grins at me. “I warned you,” he says. I realize my mistake, but too late. He goes behind me and gently pushes me forward until my face is against his rug, my ass in the air, my hands tied behind my back.

“Daddy!” I gasp as he slaps my ass, hard. He spanks me again and again. It stings, but just before it starts to hurt, he presses his fingers deep inside of my pussy. I groan, shocked at how the sudden pleasure counteracts the pain. In fact, the pain seems to make the pleasure that much sweeter. He slides his fingers in and out of me for a few moments, getting me to moan and twist my hips. He pulls them back out then gets me back up on my knees. “Good girl,” he says softly. “That’s your punishment.” He stands in front of me, stroking his long, thick cock, and grins. “Now, open up.” I do as I’m told, opening my mouth. He slides his thick cock between my lips and I groan a little bit. He’s so thick and long, I can barely get him inside my mouth. He wraps his hands through my hair as I start to suck his cock, sliding up and down his thick shaft. “That’s right, use those little virgin lips to suck my cock,” he whispers. “God damn, you look so sexy down on your knees. Do you like being tied up for me?” I moan and nod as I keep sucking him. I’m totally lost in the moment, not thinking clearly, not caring

about anything at all. The only thing I care about is Gavin, my Daddy, at this moment. He presses his cock deeper into my mouth, sliding into my throat. I gag a little and he pulls back, smirking at me. “You have to learn to take my cock into your throat,” he says gently. I nod my head, eyes tearing up a bit, but I want it so badly. He slides his cock forward again, and this time, before I can gag, I suppress it. “Good,” he says. “Fuck, that’s good. I love feeling your throat around my fucking cock.” I let him slide himself as deep as he can. I can’t take him all, I just don’t think that’s physically possible, but I get most of it in before he slides back out. I gasp and groan a little bit. I manage to get him back in my mouth and I suck his tip, greedily wanting him. “Legs spread,” he commands me. I obey, sitting up on my knees, spreading my legs wide. “Look at those fucking hips,” he says. “And that back. You’re so goddamn gorgeous.” He pulls his cock back and steps away, looking at me while stroking himself. He tips my chin toward him and kisses my lips slightly.

“Are you ready?” he asks me. “I don’t know,” I admit, my heart suddenly beating fast in my chest. “I’ll be gentle,” he says. “At least at first. I promise.” I nod my head once, and I realize that I’m afraid. I don’t know why I’d be afraid. I know he’ll take care of me. I know it’s going to feel good. But it’s my first time, and I’m still nervous. Plus, his cock is so big, I’m afraid he’ll rip me in half. He reaches behind me and pulls off the belt, freeing my hands. He then grabs me, pulls me to my feet, and lifts me into his arms. I laugh as he carries me into the bedroom. “Here we go,” he says, putting me down on top of his comforter. “This is where your first time should be.” I bite my lip and look at him as he pulls my panties off. I’m completely naked with him, though I don’t feel self-conscious at all. He spreads my legs wide then teases my pussy with his fingers. He presses two inside of me, nice and deep, sliding them in and out. I watch him as little moans escape my lips.

“Good,” he says. “Nice and soaking wet. You’re going to need it.” I bite my lip again, harder this time, as he presses his cock against my pussy. He leans down and cups my head in one hand, kissing me hard on the mouth. I’m nervous, my heart hammering in my chest, but this is it. I want it so badly. I’m so tired of being a virgin girl. I want to grow up, move on with my life, and become a woman. This is part of that, and I can’t imagine a better man to help me than my Daddy. He presses himself inside of me, and I gasp. It hurts, just like I knew it would. He slides himself inside slowly. “Relax,” he whispers, kissing my neck. “Just relax. Let me do the work.” I nod and turn my head to the side. He gives me a bit of the comforter and I bite down on it as he slides himself inside of me. I groan, shocked that he can even fit inside of me. After a moment, he’s deep in my pussy, and I look back at him, tears in my eyes. He kisses them away. “No crying,” he says softly. “You’re my girl now.”

“I’m not crying,” I say, smiling a little bit. “It just hurt, that’s all.” “It’s okay.” He kisses my neck, slowly pulling back. “God damn, you feel so fucking good.” He slides himself back out and slowly presses back in. This time, it doesn’t hurt as badly. In fact, it actually feels a little good. I’m shocked. He slides back out and slowly slides back in, kissing my lips, my neck, talking gently in my ear. At first, it hurt like hell, but as he keeps moving, slowly but surely, it starts to feel good. After a few more strokes, the pleasure starts to totally outweigh the pain. Little moans begin to escape my lips as he slowly moves a little bit faster, a little bit deeper. He spreads my legs wider and takes my hands, pinning them above my head. I love being controlled by him. He’s so damn strong and sure of himself, and he obviously knows what he’s doing. He starts to move faster. I can’t help but roll my hips against him as pleasure starts to build. I’m shocked that it feels this good. I thought it was just going to hurt the whole time, but that’s not true. “There you go,” he says, smirking at me. “You’re starting to like this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admit. “God, I didn’t think you’d fit.” “I fit,” he says. “You can take more than you realize, Sadie girl.” He presses himself deep inside of me and puts two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them, holding his hand, as he starts to fuck me a bit faster. The pleasure rolls through me, surprising me, but I’m past the point of trying to hold back. Moans escape my lips, past his fingers, coming out muffled as he keeps working into me, fucking me slow and deep. “A little bit harder now,” he says. “Tell me what you like.” “That,” I gasp, as he presses deep inside of me. “Oh just like that.” He rocks his hips, filling my pussy up. I’m so past caring about pain or anything but this incredible pleasure rolling through my skin. I moan as he takes my hair in his fist, pulling it back, turning my head to one side. He rocks back onto his knees, my hair in his hand, his cock between my legs. He works my clit with his other thumb, fucking me slow and deep, pulling my hair, driving a little pain through me. But his thumb on my clit drives me crazy. It feels so damn good. I start to writhe and roll my hips,

working against him, wanting it badly. He smirks at me as moans escape my lips, faster and faster. He releases my hair and starts to fuck me harder. The pain is still there, but the pleasure is just too much. It’s almost overwhelming. He works my clit, fucking my pussy, his hard body so gorgeous as he does his magic to me. I never expected my first time would be like this, but it’s happening, and it feels so damn good. I understand why people love sex so much. This man makes me feel good. “Fuck, Sadie,” he says. “You like this, don’t you? You’re a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you?” “Yes, Daddy,” I moan. “I’m whatever you want me to be.” “That’s right.” He leans toward me, pulling my hair again. “You’ll do anything for your Daddy. You want to make me happy, don’t you?” “Yes,” I gasp, losing my mind from pleasure. “I’ll do anything for you, Daddy.” “That’s my good Sadie girl,” he says, driving his cock into me. I didn’t even realize it, but he’s fucking me harder, deeper, his thumb still working my clit. I’m writhing

my hips and rolling them against him, trying to get every inch of him, trying to feel every single sensation. “I can see it in your face,” he whispers. “You’re close but you don’t even know it. Don’t hold yourself back, Sadie. Just relax. Let it come to you.” “Yes, Daddy,” I moan, doing as he says. I close my eyes and relax, getting into the rhythm, losing myself in the moment. His cock is so big and fills me up so easily, and his body is strong against mine. I love everything about this moment. I love the smell, the feeling, the taste of him. Pleasure builds inside of me, peaking and rolling and growing, and before I’m even aware of it, I’m about to come. Moans escape my lips, louder and louder. I roll my hips faster against him as he fucks me deep, talking to me, encouraging me, pushing me. I grip the sheets tight and suddenly the orgasm rolls through me. I come hard, harder than I’ve ever been able to make myself come. I come on his thick cock and I can’t believe it, I can hardly believe that I’m having an orgasm. I wasn’t supposed to come this first time, it was supposed to be painful and difficult, but that’s not at all what it is.

Daddy knows what he’s doing. I’m giving myself to him and he’s giving back by making me feel better than I’ve ever felt before. I come so hard I lose myself completely, and practically black out from the pleasure. “Fuck, girl,” he groans loudly. “God damn, you’re so fucking sexy when you come.” He’s fucking me faster, deeper, and suddenly he pulls himself out. Thick ropes of cum cover my stomach and breasts as he orgasms all over me. I gasp, surprised and delighted by how thick and far he shoots. He practically covers me, groaning and stroking himself. Slowly he finishes, and we come down together. He grins at me and kisses me before quickly getting a towel. He helps me clean off, tenderly kissing me, and when I’m cleaned up, he spoons me on the covers. We lie like that, breathing deeply, sweating slightly. I feel so good and all my problems are completely gone as he holds me. “Sadie,” he says after a couple of minutes. “You didn’t ride horses, did you?” I pause, surprised at the strange question. “No,” I say. “My parents wouldn’t let me. How’d you

know?” I can feel his smile against my neck. “Don’t freak out. There’s just a little blood.” I sit up suddenly and stare down at the comforter. A big red stain spreads all around us. “Oh my god!” I say. “Hey,” he answers. “It’s okay, seriously. It’s a cheap comforter. Don’t worry. I knew this might happen.” “I’m so, so sorry,” I say. “It’s okay,” he says. I stand up, intending to try and clean it up, but he gets up and grabs me. He pulls me against him. “Listen,” he says. “I knew that might happen. That’s why we did it there. Don’t worry.” I bite my lip, embarrassed. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure,” he says. “Seriously. We’ll throw away the comforter and get another one.” “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” “No, you’re not. You were a virgin.” He kisses my lips gently. “But now you’re not.”

I blink, a little surprised. He’s right. I’m not a virgin anymore. This should be a bigger moment. I should feel different, like totally reborn or something. I always imagined my first time would make me feel like an adult finally. Instead, I just feel like myself. Except there’s an ache between my legs and I just had a great orgasm, but otherwise still myself. “I don’t feel different,” I say to him. He laughs a little. “I didn’t think you would.” He kisses me softly again. “But you will.” “How?” I ask him. “We’re not done tonight,” he whispers, and a thrill runs down my spine. “We’re not?” “Oh no,” he says. “I have so much to teach you. We’re just getting started.” I look up at him, a thrill running through my skin. I kiss him deeply and passionately and I know he’s right. We are just getting started. And I can’t wait for him to show me everything that I’ve been missing. I can’t wait for him to make me feel like a real woman.

I know he can do it. He’s already getting a little hard, and I can already feel my desire starting to build again. Maybe I’m a little embarrassed about the blood, but that’s okay, he genuinely doesn’t seem to mind at all. Besides, I’ll make it up to him. I’ll be his obedient little girl and he’ll be my Daddy. Together he’ll teach me everything I’ve always wanted to learn, and I’ll obey his every word, because I want to be a good girl for him.

17

GAVIN

W

e spend the rest of the night alternating between exploring each other’s bodies and talking. We don’t go to sleep until four in the morning, and I don’t think I can remember ever feeling so good. There’s a spirit to Sadie that I’ve never experienced before. For someone that has such an oppressive family, she seems so absolutely alive. She clearly wants more from life than just to be married off to whomever her family chooses for her, and she’s doing what makes her happy, despite the danger. I can’t get enough of it. She makes me feel young again, although I like being her older Daddy. I like taking care of her and teaching her everything she needs to know.

I wake up slowly in the morning, the sunlight streaming in through the windows. I glance at the clock and sigh to myself. I got maybe four hours of sleep at most. It’s eight in the morning, and I know I won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. I don’t care. Sadie’s beautiful body is snuggled up against mine, and I run my hand down her beautiful hips. Instantly the night before comes back to me, every single lurid detail. Her pussy is like fucking fire. I don’t know how else to put it. I never really cared about deflowering a virgin before, but I’m fucking glad I got to do it with Sadie. I taught her everything she needed to know about sex, or at least I started to teach her. And she was so eager to learn. Not to mention enthusiastic. Her pussy is so fucking tight and slick, I just never want to leave it. And she throws herself into sex like there’s nothing else in the world. I’ve been with plenty of other women, but that’s something I’ve never seen before, and it’s fucking addictive. I slip out of bed, letting her sleep. She stirs but doesn’t wake up. I head into the bathroom to do my morning routine before heading into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I put on the coffee and start up some eggs, toast,

and waffles. Sometimes I hire someone to come in and cook for me, but today I feel like it’s better to go for the personal touch. Maybe another morning we can sit out on the balcony and leisurely drink our coffee while we eat an awesome breakfast from my normal personal chef. I keep thinking about Sadie in the other room and smiling to myself. This isn’t fucking like me. Normally I’m much more reserved and pessimistic, but she does something to me that I can’t deny. She makes me happy. Fuck, in a world where I have so much already, and so little of it actually brings a smile to my face, she’s the most valuable thing that I can imagine. She makes me fucking happy. I never thought I’d feel this way about a woman. I thought I’d always go from woman to woman, taking what I want and moving on, but Sadie is different. She makes me want to stay. As I’m finishing the eggs and putting them in a bowl, I hear a knock at my door. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever it is, and so I just ignore it, but they start knocking again. Annoyed, I go to answer the door. I don’t want

whoever it is to wake Sadie up. I assume it’s probably the doorman with packages or mail or some shit like that. “Okay, enough,” I say. “I’m coming.” I pull open the door. Silas smiles at me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Hello there, Gavin,” he says. I take a step backwards. I didn’t expect this. “Silas,” I say. “What do you want?” He frowns at me. “Are you joking?” I pause and stare at him. He’s here for one reason and one reason alone: to bring back Sadie. That much is obvious. Her family must know she left and they figured out where she is pretty quickly. “She doesn’t want to go with you,” I say softly, anger rising in my chest. “Now, now, Gavin,” he says. “You know it doesn’t work like that.” He subtly opens his jacket, showing me his gun, “Make this easy, will you?” I want to fight him, but I’m unarmed and wearing only a pair of jogging pants and a black t-shirt. I wouldn’t be able to get my gun before Silas can pull his weapon out.

“What’s with you people?” I say to him. “The girl wants to live her life. Aren’t you a little sick of working for guys like Tillman?” “No,” Silas says flatly. “Please go get her.” I clench my fists. For a second, I think I’m going to hit him. Maybe if I strike first, I can wrestle the gun away from him and get the upper hand. But I’m stopped by a voice from behind me. “Let him in, Gavin,” Sadie says. I turn and look at her. She’s standing inside, frowning at me. She’s wearing the same outfit from the night before. “Your father sent me,” Silas says to her. “I know who you are,” she answers. “I’ll come with you. Just give me a few minutes.” He sighs. “I’m not supposed to do that.” “Please. You won’t have any trouble.” Sadie looks pointedly at me. I grunt and nod at Silas. “A few minutes,” I say. “Fine,” he answers. “I’ll be out here.” He leans up against the wall next to my door. I shut it and lock it, then turn to Sadie.

She looks at me for a second then walks quickly over to me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I hug her tight. I hate that she had to see this asshole. She’s not crying, though, which makes me proud. “You’re in deep shit,” I say to her with a smile. She smiles back. “Guess so.” “You don’t seem to mind.” “I guess not.” She shrugs. “I’m figuring things out for myself.” “Good for you.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “You don’t have to go, you know. I’ll get rid of him.” “I bet you would,” she says, grinning at me. “But it’s better if I just go. It’s time for me to make some hard choices.” I don’t exactly know what she means by that, but I can guess. “Are you sure?” She nods once, resolute. “I’m sure.” “Okay.” I kiss her one more time. “It’s a shame. I made a damn good breakfast.” She smiles at me. “I bet you did.”

“Think you have time for a shower?” She shakes her head, still smiling. “No, I don’t think so. And I don’t think you really want me to clean up.” “No,” I admit. “I didn’t plan on letting you get clean.” I kiss her deep and full then, hoping that she understands what I mean. I hope she understands that she’s mine and I’m not letting her go, no matter what her fucking family says. We break apart slowly. “I’ll see you soon,” she says. “And I still have the phone.” “Good.” I let her go and she steps toward the door. She pause before she leaves and looks at me. “I’ll be thinking about you, Daddy.” I smirk at her. “I know you will be.” She smiles, opens the door, and then leaves. I get a glimpse of Silas looking back at me as they head down the hall, a mysterious look on his face. I shut the door and lock it. I don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, I didn’t want her to leave, and I would have fought to keep her. But on the other, she decided to go back on her own, and I have to respect that maturity. She’s an impressive

girl, and she just keeps getting more and more impressive.

18

SADIE

G

oing home with my father’s goon was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life, but I knew that I couldn’t resist him. Silas is a scary man, although I’ve only met him a few times, but even I know that he’s the man my father sends to do the dirty work. I didn’t want Gavin to get hurt just because I couldn’t face the consequences of my actions. I don’t regret anything. The whole ride back to my family’s apartment, Silas is quiet, and he leaves me plenty of space to think. And the only thing I can think about is the night before. What Gavin made me feel, I never thought I’d have that. I was convinced that I was doomed to marry some rich asshole like Milo and never,

ever be happy. I never really believed that I’d have happiness, real happiness, like the kind Gavin made me feel the night before. It’s not just the sex, which was surprisingly amazing. It’s not just the fact that he took my virginity. It’s everything about him, the way he listens to me, the way he values me. He was cooking breakfast for me when Silas showed up. He wants to take care of me, wants me to actually be happy instead of a slave to his own desires. Although a slave to his desires doesn’t sound too bad. After all, the sex really was amazing. Like, shockingly amazing. I thought it was going to hurt a lot more, and although it really did hurt, it was a good pain. It was a good sharp ache between my legs, mixed with pure pleasure as he worked me, made me feel things. Then after that first time, and the embarrassing moment with my blood, he fucked me again and again, made me feel better than I ever guessed I could. Silas escorts me back into our apartment when we arrive. He’s clearly not taking any chances. He doesn’t leave my side until I’m standing in my father’s study, my father giving me a dour and angry look.

My father doesn’t speak for a whole minute. I want to yell at him, but I’m not backing down. I stare right back at him, daring him to get started. “Was it worth it?” he asked me. “Yes,” I say. He frowns. “You’re an embarrassment, Sadie. I really expected more of you, but like every woman, you’re fickle and emotional.” I ball my fists. My father is such a sexist piece of shit. But I don’t say anything. I let my gaze remain defiant. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset. “You will not leave this apartment until I give you permission,” he says. “I’m going to have someone watching out every single second of the day until your punishment is through. Do you understand?” I nod my head once. “Do you enjoy controlling me, father?” I ask him. “Like I’m still some little girl.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, Sadie, I don’t care what you think about me. You’re going to do your duty to this family, even if I have to force you at gunpoint. Now, get out of my sight.” I linger for a moment longer, but I have nothing left to say to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s not my

father anymore. He’s my captor. A new staff member that I don’t recognize, a middle-aged man, is waiting for me outside of the study. He follows me back to my room and then stands on the other side of the door when I shut it. My father wasn’t kidding about watching me. Getting out to see Gavin is going to be really hard, but fortunately, I still have one little trick up my sleeve. I quickly get the phone and pull it out. I send him a text. “In deep shit, but it was worth it. I don’t know when I can see you again.” “Soon,” he sends back. “I hope.” I smile to myself and curl up in bed. Sure, I’m locked up in my own bedroom with someone watching me all the time, but at least I have this phone. At least I can contact him and text him when I want to. I’ll get out sooner or later, and when I do, I’ll go right to see Gavin. I feel good. So damn good. I can’t stop smiling. I didn’t know life could be this good to me. I don’t care that I’m in trouble. This time apart just means

I have time to figure out what I’m going to do, to make some plans for my future. Because I’m not staying with my family forever. I just need to figure out something else to do to support myself. It’s all going to be okay. I curl up in bed, smiling, unable to stop smiling.

ONE

MONTH PASSES

and I barely leave my room.

I didn’t know I could get so bored. It’s not so bad at first. I call and text Gavin as often as possible. Quickly we realize that my father is coming after Gavin’s businesses, and apparently some of Gavin’s partners are dropping out. That only makes me angry, but when I confront my father about it, he simply dismisses me and says that Gavin is getting what he deserves. Even though my family is trying to destroy him, Gavin doesn’t seem upset about it. He never blames me for it or holds it against me. He only told me because I kept pestering him about why he seemed so stressed lately. But soon, the boredom sets in. I reread my favorite

books, but that only eats up a week since I’m a fast reader. My father lets me watch TV and provides me some more books, but he refuses to let me have the wireless password, and the phone Gavin gave me is so old that I can’t get online with it. I’m completely cut off from the world, which is exactly what my father wants. One night, about three weeks into my sentence, I woke up in he middle of the night to try and sneak out, desperate to do something. But there was a man sitting outside of my door, and as soon as I opened it, he was alert and watching. I had to pretend like I was going downstairs for a late night snack, but he totally saw through that. My relationship with Gavin began to suffer. At first, we spent a lot of time having phone sex and trading pictures all day. I sent him so many dirty selfies that I can barely even count them now, although the phone’s camera is pretty awful. He talked dirty to me every night for the first three weeks. But with his businesses in trouble, Gavin is busier than ever. So one month after this all began, we’re not having as much phone sex as we were, and he’s not able to text me all day long like he was at first. I’m going stir crazy. Absolutely stir crazy. Which is why I don’t even notice at first when I

miss my period. I’m really regular. Like, really regular. It’s like clockwork, and I’m never, ever late. I don’t know why I’m so regular, but I simply am, and that makes it easy to plan around. But because I’m so bored and distracted by everything that’s happening, I don’t even notice that I’m late until three days later when I’m in the shower and I suddenly realize what the date is. I try not to freak out at first. I know it’s so freaking unlikely that I got pregnant the very first time I ever had sex. True, we didn’t use protection, which was maybe not the smartest thing in the world. I just thought that it was safe to go without it, but when I actually sit down and do the math, I realize how horribly wrong I was. But no, I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t be. He didn’t come inside of me that very first time, but I realize with horror that he did later on in the night, practically because I begged him to. I feel so stupid, but there has to be some other reason for why I’m late. I decide not to tell Gavin right away, just to avoid worrying him and adding unnecessary stress. But three days turns into four days which turns into five days, and my period still hasn’t come.

I need to take a test. I absolutely have to take a pregnancy test, but I don’t know how to do it. I consider approaching Peter about it, but ever since I came back from Gavin’s apartment that night, Peter hasn’t really been interested in talking to me. That hurts a lot, but it can’t be helped, since he is still a slave to my family. No, I can’t trust Peter, and I can’t trust Michael. I can’t just ask my mother, because if I am pregnant, she’ll just force me to have an abortion or to go away somewhere and have the baby, then force me to put it up for adoption. I can only imagine the heinous things she’d say to me. I don’t even want to picture how my father would react. And since I’m under constant guard, I can’t just go to the store and get it myself. I can’t order it online, since I can’t get online, and I don’t know who I could contact to ask for help. I don’t trust any of my friends, even if they were home. The gossip in my community is so crazy and intense that I know the second I tell someone I’m pregnant, everyone will know, and my parents will murder me. I have only one option and it’s the last thing I want to do. I stare at my phone, six days after my missed period. It’s six o’clock at night. I have dinner with my family and pretend like everything is fine, even

though it’s definitely not. My heart is hammering when I’m back in my bedroom with the phone in my hand. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do or what Gavin is going to say. He never signed up for this. He never wanted to get some virgin like me pregnant. He says he wants to see me more, even wants to take care of me and be my Daddy, but he never said anything about being a dad for real. I can’t put it off. I don’t have other options. I dial his number and wait as it rings. He answers on the third ring. “Hey, you,” he says. “I was hoping I’d hear from you, Sadie girl.” “Gavin,” I say quickly. “We need to talk.” He pauses. “This sounds serious. Are you okay?” “I think so,” I say. “I mean, yeah, I am.” “Is it your family?” he asks. “I can come for you right now. Just say the word.” I blink, a little surprised. “No, it’s not that. I mean, it’s sort of that. Just, listen, okay?” “Okay,” he says, though I can tell he wants to ask more questions. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I’m practically

shaking with nerves. “Gavin, I missed my period.” He doesn’t respond right away. I sit there listening to the silence on his end, not knowing how he’s reacting or what he’s thinking. I’m so afraid he’s going to just hang up and leave me. It never occurred to me until right this second that Gavin could walk away and never talk to me again so easily, and leave me all alone to face the wrath of my family. “Are you sure you’re late?” he asks. “I did the math,” I say quickly. “And I’m always on time. I’m really regular. It’s been six days.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll get pregnancy tests. You need to get out of there tonight.” I blink, a little surprised. “Really?” I ask him. He laughs softly. “Really,” he says. “We talked about this before, remember? Just start running.” I nod once, remembering that conversation. He told me that if I really want to get out, I just have to run away. They won’t physically stop me. My father will know I’m gone, but my guards won’t touch me, there’s just no way my father would hire people that would actually physically force me to stay put. They’re there to scare me. I think Gavin’s right about that but I’ve been too nervous to test it.

“Are you sure you want this?” I ask him softly. “Of course,” he says instantly. “Sadie, I told you I’d take care of you, no matter what. Meet me tonight at midnight at the usual spot. I’ll be waiting.” “Thank you,” I say, biting back tears. “Don’t thank me,” he says softly. “I’m your Daddy, Sadie. I’ll keep you safe. We’ll figure this out together.” “Okay,” I say. “Tonight. Can you do it?” “I can do it,” I say. “Good. See you then.” I hang up the phone and stare at the floor. Conflicting emotions roil in my body. On the one hand, I’m terrified that I’m probably pregnant, and now I have to escape from the apartment. But more importantly, Gavin isn’t going to leave me. He’s going to take care of me. He’s going to help me. I can get away. I know it won’t be hard. Just before midnight, I’ll run out of my room and out the front door as fast as I can. It’ll take the guard by surprise, and I know I can get down the stairs pretty fast.

They won’t be able to catch me. And then I’ll meet Gavin, and we’ll find out together.

19

GAVIN

I

never wanted to be a father. Well, honestly, I never really thought about it before. I always just assumed I never would have kids. I never met a woman before who I might even consider doing that with. Having a child wasn’t something I thought about with Sadie, but now that it might be happening, the idea doesn’t scare me nearly as much as I thought it might. Maybe if she were anyone else, I might run away, or something equally shitty. But I could never do that to Sadie. I care too much about her for that. I haven’t seen her for a month, but our relationship is stronger than it ever has been. We spend so much time talking to each other, that I feel like we’re closer

than I’ve ever been with someone. The only down side right now is my business war with her father. He’s been slowly pecking at my businesses, taking away clients, scaring off partners, and generally fucking shit up. I’ve been able to stop the bleeding for the time being, but he’s not backing down. He’s using every dirty trick in the book to come after me, and slowly but surely, it’s working. So far, I haven’t lost much, but I will. And I’m afraid of what Sadie will think if I don’t have the sort of money that I did when we first met. I’ll always be able to take care of her. I’m too rich to ever go back to being totally broke. But I don’t know if I’ll be as wealthy as she’s used to, and that makes me nervous. One thing at a time, though. I pull up at the usual spot and wait. She’s not there, but I’m not surprised. She has to break out of her prison first. The thought of what her father has put her through makes me so angry I can barely breathe. If she’s pregnant with my child, she’s not going back to them. No way in hell will she go back into that apartment without me. I’ll fight them all off for her, and I know I’ll win. Because Tillman wants to use Sadie as a pawn in his game, but I want to

genuinely take care of her and make her happy. After a few minutes pass, I start to get worried. But before I can pick up my phone and call her, I notice someone running toward me. It takes me half a second to realize that it’s Sadie. She gets to my car, out of breath from running, and jumps inside. “Go!” she yells. “What?” I ask, grinning at her. “They’re chasing me!” I look into the rearview mirror and sure enough, two guys are running down the block. I laugh and peel out, leaving them in my dust. “I can’t believe they actually chased you.” “I know, right?” She laughs, breathless and pink from exertion. She looks so fucking beautiful, and I suddenly realize with a pang that I may be looking at the mother of my child. “They were trying to get me to stay, but you were right. They didn’t touch me.” I grin at her. “I’m impressed.” “Me too. I didn’t know I could run so fast.”

I laugh and drive us back to my apartment where the tests are waiting. We talk about her escape as we go, though I can tell we’re both just trying to avoid the real subject. When I’m parked, we head upstairs. She drops her stuff on the kitchen island and bites her lip. I can tell she’s afraid. I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against me. It feels so fucking good to be touching her after this long, torturous month. I kiss her hard on the mouth, enjoying her, tasting her, not thinking about the real reason she’s here. We enjoy the kiss for as long as it lasts, and finally she breaks away. “I’m nervous,” she admits. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m here for you.” “Do you…?” She trails off and looks at me expectantly. “In the bathroom,” I say. “There are a few tests in there. I did some research, I think I got you the best tests.” She nods, taking a deep breath. “Is it too early?” she asks. “No,” I say. “I think they say a week is the most

accurate, but six days should be fine.” I take her hands and squeeze. “Do you want me to come with you?” She nods a little. “Yeah. It’s embarrassing but… I don’t want to be alone.” I smile and kiss her softly. “I think I can handle you peeing a little bit.” I grab a small juice glass from the counter. “Here.” She looks at it, confused. “For what?” “Pee in there,” I say, laughing. “Then you dip the stick.” “Oh,” she says, nodding. “Of course. Makes more sense than trying to pee on the stick.” I kiss her one more time and then she goes into the bathroom alone. She pees into the glass, and when she’s done, she calls me inside. We stare at the little glass of her urine. She opens the first box, dips in the stick, and then we wait. It’s an agonizing wait. Neither of us speaks. She stares at the stick and I wish I could read her mind in this moment. I wish she could read mine as well, because that way she’d know that I’d never leave her no matter what. When the test finishes and it confirms that she’s

pregnant, I surprise myself by laughing. She looks at me, a little wide-eyed. “Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I think I’m happy.” She looks surprised. “You’re happy?” I nod, grinning. “You’re pregnant! I never thought I’d be a father but… god, I’m going to be a dad. And you’re going to be the mom.” She bites her lower lip. “You’re not mad? Or afraid?” “Of course I’m afraid,” I say. “But mad? Not even a little bit.” I grab her hips and pull her against me. “You’re my girl, Sadie. I told you I’d take care of you.” She smiles slightly and looks up at me. “Promise?” “I promise.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “Now, let’s dip a few more sticks, just to be sure.” She grins. “Okay. Sounds like fun.” We spend the next hour taking the tests, mostly having fun with it. We kiss and laugh and talk, and each test comes up positive. She’s definitely pregnant. By the end of it, we’re

sitting out on the couch together, her legs in my lap, her arms around my neck. I kiss her softly on the lips. “What do we do now?” she asks after a short somber silence. I shrug. “What do you want to do?” She pauses and looks at me. “Should I… you know,” she says. I sigh. “I’ll support whatever you want to do, Sadie girl,” I say carefully. “I know. But do you think I should? I mean, have an abortion.” I smile softly. “I know what you meant. And I don’t know. Do you want to have an abortion?” “No,” she says immediately, and then pauses. “No, I guess not.” I smile broadly at her. “Good. I didn’t want you to, either. I just didn’t want to influence you too much. It’s your choice.” “Why are you being so good about this?” she asks, genuinely surprised. “What do you mean? This is my baby too.”

She shrugs a little. “I’ve heard of guys freaking out because of accidental pregnancies. I mean, you never signed up for this. I’m just some virgin girl you slept with.” I take her chin, tilting her face toward mine. “No,” I say to her. “You’re not just that. You’re my Sadie girl. And I’m your Daddy.” “Still,” she says softly. “You didn’t ask for this.” “And neither did you. So I should just walk away and leave you to take care of it?” “You could,” she says. That makes me a little angry. “I can’t imagine the sort of bastard who would do that to you.” She smiles a little. “I bet it’s more common than you think.” “I’m not that guy.” I kiss her hard on the mouth. “Do you understand?” I say when I’m through. “I understand.” She says, hardly a whisper. I stare into her eyes for a second longer then I kiss her more deeply. Suddenly, it feels like the whole month of tension between us bubbles over. One second, we’re sitting there and discussing what to do about our future,

and the next I’m peeling off her clothes and teasing her breasts with my tongue. I feel so goddamn impatient. I need her, I realize with a shock as my hands roam her gorgeous body. She moans as I slide her jeans over her hips and press my hands down her panties. I work her wet little clit and we kiss each other, both of us starving for the other. She’s dripping wet already, soft moans escaping her lips as I kiss her, and I know I can’t wait. I slide my own pants off as I press her down on the couch. I get her panties down around her ankles before spreading her knees wide, showing off that pink little glistening pussy. I bite her lower lip and press my cock against her. “You’re mine,” I say to her. “Do you understand? Every inch of your body is mine. From now on, you’re not going to leave my side, and I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” “Yes, Daddy,” she whispers, and I plunge my cock deep inside of her. She cries out with passion. I’m so fucking hard, and she’s so fucking wet. I slide right into her easily, since she’s been keeping herself ready for me with her vibrator all month. Still, she’s so goddamn tight, and I have to fuck her slowly at first, just to get her

used to my size again. But she warms up to me very, very quickly, and soon I’m sliding in and out of her tight little cunt and she’s moaning in my ear, hot and deep. Her moans drive me so fucking crazy. “I’m going to make this pussy sing,” I say. “Fuck your tight pussy, fuck your tight asshole, make you take my every inch. You’ll choke on my cock and thank me for it. You’re my fucking girl, and I’m your Daddy.” “Oh god yes,” she moans as I slide in and out of her. I pin her hands above her head, fucking her harder, ravaging her body. It’s intense and it’s incredible. Neither of us could wait any longer, it’s pretty obvious. She’s writhing and moaning under my touch and I know she’s been ready to blow since the second she came into my apartment. She’s been dripping wet and thinking about this moment for a month, and now my cock is deep inside of her little cunt, and I can tell it’s better than she ever imagined. I fuck her rough and deep, pinning her to my couch. Her wet little pussy slides against me as I rock myself into her, deep and hard. I love the way her breasts shake with each deep thrust, and I take a nipple between my teeth, teasing her.

“Keep going,” she moans. “Gavin, I needed this.” “I needed this too,” I say. “I needed your tight pussy so badly. I’ve been picturing this for the last month, ever since you left.” “Me, too,” she says. “Every second of every day. I’ve been dreaming about your cock fucking me like a bad girl.” “You like being a bad girl?” I ask her, thrusting harder. She moans deep and low, her eyes shut. “You like getting fucked by Daddy?” “Yes,” she admits. “God, yes, I love it.” “Good,” I groan. “Fuck, girl, I’m going to come in this tight pussy. I can’t wait.” “Keep going,” she urges, her hips moving. I love the way her hips roll against me. “Keep going,” she begs. “I’m almost there.” I grip her hands harder, pinning them down, as she comes. I watch her face and her body tense and contract and contort as she comes hard and fast, and it tips me over the edge. I keep fucking her, rough and deep, and I come inside of her, filling her the way just as I needed. We come together, and slowly finish together. I kiss her deeply and hold her, and suddenly I realize that

I’m not just holding her. I’m holding Sadie and my baby. The baby we’re going to have together. Joy floods me as I kiss her neck. She smiles and laughs a little bit, and kisses me back. My cock stirs a bit, and I know she’s in for a long night. I just hope she can handle it. Because I’m going to give her everything I have, just to teach her what she’s in for with me. I think she can handle it.

20

SADIE

I

wake up in Gavin’s bed, feeling a confused combination of happy and terrified.

I’m afraid for obvious reasons. I ran away from my powerful family to be with Gavin, going against their wishes. That would be bad enough, but on top of that, I’m also pregnant with Gavin’s child. But for some reason, that doesn’t really matter to me. I stretch, smiling to myself, as Gavin rolls over and wraps his arms around my hips. “Morning,” he says. “Morning.” I roll around and face him. He kisses me softly on the lips. He’s so damn handsome, even first thing after waking up. “I had a dream about

you.” “Oh yeah?” He grins a little. “I’m sure it was pretty dirty.” “Maybe.” I blush and smile. “Tell me about it over coffee.” He sits up. “You want breakfast?” I nod. “I’m a little hungry, actually. Didn’t eat much yesterday.” “Good.” He gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear him getting ready in there as I sit up against the headboard, looking around his room. For a second, I’m afraid that last night didn’t actually happen, and the whole pregnancy test thing was actually the dream. But as soon as he comes out and looks at me, I know that’s not the case. I know it was all real, far too real. He walks over and kisses me softly. “You okay?” he asks. “Yeah,” I say. “Of course. Totally fine.” He smiles a little. “I know this is weird. And you’re scared. But it’s going to be okay. Everything I said last night still stands.” He kisses me one last time before disappearing back into the kitchen.

I can’t help but grin like an idiot. This handsome, gorgeous, amazing man still wants me, even though I’m pregnant with his child. I can’t believe how good it makes me feel. He wants me and the baby, no matter what happens, and I’m finally starting to see that he means it. The smell of cooking breakfast pulls me from bed. I head into the bathroom and use his toothbrush. When I’m done, I try to fix myself up as best I can. I pull my hair into a messy bun and wash my face, and when I’m finished, I hear voices in the other room. My heart suddenly starts beating fast in my chest. I walk out into the living room, my face only half dry. Gavin is standing in the hallway, and in front of him, my father’s goon Silas is staring at him. “I won’t ask again, Gavin,” he says, his eyes narrowed. “Get out of the way.” Gavin doesn’t move. “Leave,” he says. “Go tell your boss that he can’t have Sadie. If she wants to stay with me, she’s going to stay.” “You’re making a mistake,” Silas says. His gaze flicks over to mine. And that’s when Gavin moves. He strikes out so fast that I almost miss it. His fist catches Silas’s

throat, making a horrifying choking sound. Silas stumbles back, his eyes wide. Gavin doesn’t hesitate. He follows that up with a fist to Silas’s face and a knee to his stomach. Silas shoves Gavin off and tries to fight back, but Gavin attacks harder. He kicks Silas in the knee and slams his fist down into his face, forcing Silas down onto the floor. “Fuck you, motherfucker,” Gavin says as he kicks Silas in the stomach. “You tell your boss to leave her alone.” Gavin grabs Silas by the jacket and drags him out of the apartment. “Gavin!” I yell, terrified. “Please, stop!” Gavin doesn’t listen. He drags Silas into the hall. Silas tries to crawl away but Gavin kicks him one last time. “Don’t come back,” Gavin growls. “Gavin!” I’m breathing so fast, and I’m so afraid, I can barely think. He turns back and takes me by the hand, pulling me back into the apartment. He shuts the door and locks it before shoving my body against the hallway wall and kissing me hard and deep. I can’t believe how excited I feel. I never thought

I’d like watching a man hurt another man, but Gavin did that for me. Silas was going to bring me back no matter what. I know what kind of man Silas is. But Gavin was fast and ruthless, catching Silas off guard. He protected me, and he’s keeping me safe. I kiss him back, needing him so badly. He pulls back and spins me around, dropping to his knees, and pulling my panties off. I gasp as his tongue begins to lick my pussy from behind. “Oh fuck, Gavin,” I gasp. “What’s happening right now?” “I’m licking your fucking pussy,” he says. “And then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” “Oh god,” I groan as his tongue slides inside of me from behind. He licks my every inch, and it’s so goddamn dirty, but it feels so good. He slaps my ass, nice and hard, and I know it’s going to leave a mark, but I like it. He stands and grabs my hips. I feel him pull his own shorts off, and his hard cock presses against me. He slides deep inside of me with one easy thrust, and I gasp as pleasure fills me. Like last night, it doesn’t hurt. Maybe a slight tinge at first, but nothing like the first time.

This is fast and rough. He rocks into me, thrusting, fucking me from behind. I buck my hips back against him, full of adrenaline from the fight. Pleasure fills me, destroying my mind, making me feel so damn good. I can’t believe it. He pins my hands to the wall and fucks me deep as he kisses my neck. “God, I love this fucking pussy,” he says. “You’re mine. Nobody is going to take you away from me. I’ll fucking kill for you, Sadie. This cunt is mine, you’re mine.” “Fuck me, Daddy,” I moan. “Come on. Fuck me.” He groans and pulls my hair as his cock thrusts into me, ramming and fucking my pussy. I work my hips, sliding back along his length, taking his big cock. He pulls my hair harder, tipping my head back, as he hammers into me, fucking my little body. He’s so much bigger than me, he could tear me apart if he wanted. I want him to do it. I want to feel him rip me to pieces. He slaps my ass hard, his cock slamming into me, and I know I can’t take it much longer. I come hard on him as he’s deep inside of me. As soon as I start to come, he grunts and roars his

pleasure, and I feel him fill me. He comes in thick spurts into my tight little pussy as he rams me, fucking me hard. The adrenaline and excitement makes the orgasm so intense that for a second, I think I might collapse. But he holds me up and slowly we come together. When it’s over, I turn and kiss him, long and deep. He pulls me close to his body, breathing fast and deep. “I told you I’d keep you safe,” he says. “I know.” I kiss his lips. He smirks at me. “I can’t get enough of that pussy.” He kisses me again. “Come on. Let’s have some breakfast.” I laugh and shake my head as he leads me into the kitchen. He goes back to making breakfast, and I sit down to watch him. He gives me a small cup of coffee, not too much, since I’m pregnant. I sit there and watch him cook as if nothing just happened, as if he didn’t just beat the shit out of one of my father’s men, as if he didn’t just fuck my brains out in one of the most intense sessions I’ve ever had. I sit there and watch him, feeling so normal, so good, and I hope it never ends.

21

GAVIN

I

f things weren’t real before, they are now.

I’m surprised that I got the drop on Silas, but he probably wasn’t expecting me to actually attack him. As soon as I hit him though, I knew I was going to win the fight. I think that if I have to go up against him again, it will be much harder, but I got lucky this time. I’m not sure how long our luck is going to last. I love having Sadie around my apartment, living with me, but her family is getting more aggressive. They haven’t actually come to the apartment again or gotten in touch with either of us, but her father has stepped up his attempts at sabotaging my business. I’m practically leaking money and resources. I still

have a lot, and I’m not in any serious danger yet, but I’m not sure how long I can last. Maybe six months, maybe a year, something like that. Despite the problems with my business, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I spend half my days in the office and half my days at home with Sadie. Two weeks pass like that, two fucking blissful weeks. We have sex as much as possible, and Sadie is an eager learner. She loves when I push her limits, test her, see what she likes and doesn’t like. She’s intense in a way that surprises me, and she even pushes my boundaries a little bit right back. It’s so impressive. When I first met her, she was a virgin, but after only weeks of having sex, I feel like she’s learned as much as I can possibly teach her. I won’t say that to her, of course. Because I want to keep trying to come up with new ways to make her feel good. After two weeks and one doctor’s appointment, its pretty clear to me that we need some sort of plan. Early Saturday morning, I get up and make her breakfast like I always do, but this time I have something of an ulterior motive. She comes out into the kitchen, smiling. “You know, I’m pretty spoiled by this.” “Didn’t you have a chef back home?”

She grins and nods. “But you’re much better.” “Oh, I’m sure I am.” I give her a plate and a cup of coffee before serving myself and sitting down across from her. I watch her eat for a second, sipping my coffee. She’s so goddamn beautiful and she makes me so happy, which is why I hate that I feel like I have to have this conversation with her. I wish we could just keep going like this as she gets more and more pregnant, and then we’d raise our child together, and just live in bliss. But the real world is still out there, and the real world is very unhappy. “What?” she asks me with a little smile. I smile back. “I want to talk to you about something.” “Uh oh,” she says. “You have your serious face on.” “I don’t have a serious face. All of my faces are serious.” “Well, that’s not true,” she says, laughing. “Your come face isn’t too serious.” I grin at her. “That’s the most serious of all faces, Sadie girl.”

She sighs and leans back in her chair. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” “First I want to tell you something.” I grab her hand and hold it tightly. “Having you here these last two weeks… they’ve been the happiest two weeks of my life. Do you understand that?” She nods, smiling, and squeezes my hand back. “I feel the same way.” “Good. So now you understand why it’s so hard for me to say that I think you need to go home.” She pauses, very surprised, and slowly pulls her hand away. “What?” she asks. “Why?” “Not permanently,” I say quickly. “Hell, not even for very long. But Sadie, you need to tell your family that you’re pregnant.” She lets out a sharp breath. “I thought you were kicking me out.” “I’m not,” I say. “I promise. But you do need to tell your parents, and I think it’ll be best if you do it in person.” “I don’t want to go back there,” she says quietly. “Do you have any idea how they’ll react?” “They’re probably pretty fucking mad already,” I say, grinning. “I did beat the shit out of one of their

workers.” She bites her lip and looks down at her place. “I know that. My brothers have been calling me every day since I left.” “Peter too?” I ask. “Peter too,” she confirms. “Not answering has been hard. But it’s the right thing for me.” “You can’t hide this forever,” I say. “We don’t need their support or their blessing. But we do need them to understand.” “Why?” she asks suddenly, almost pleading. “You know they’ve treated me like a dog for years, right? This is the safest I’ve ever felt. This is the most free I’ve ever been.” “I know,” I say softly, and it breaks my heart just a little bit. “And so far, they haven’t really tried to bring you back. But they will, sooner or later, and they’ll try hard.” “You can keep me safe,” she says. “You’re right, I can. And legally speaking, you’re an adult, so you can do whatever you want. But we both know your family doesn’t need to follow laws.” I sigh, leaning back in my chair to look at her. “If they understand why you’re here, why

you’re with me, we may be able to stay together.” She looks at me quietly for a second and I can tell that she’s been wrestling with this ever since she came to me. Despite everything with her family, Sadie does love them, or at least she loves her brother Peter. Her parents haven’t treated her well, but she was raised to take pride in her family and to believe that the family’s best interests were more important than her own. So it must be incredibly difficult now to go against all of that. Frankly, maybe it’s easy to think she’s just a silly rich girl with nothing at all, but I see so much more. She’s strong. Just getting away from her family takes strength. She gave up so much by running away. I know I’ll never fully understand. Not only will she likely be removed from the will and the family, leaving her with nothing financially, she also lost her identity as a Tillman. Her family is more than just a family, it was her whole life, the person she was born and bred to be. And yet she saw how unhappy it all made her, and she ran away. She figured it out, and now she’s here. It’s impressive, no matter what people might think. I admire her.

Now it’s time to go back, which is probably the hardest thing she’ll ever have to do. “I know you’re probably right,” she says finally. “But I’m afraid to go back. I’m afraid they’ll force me to stay. I’m afraid they’ll make me do something that I don’t want to do.” I nod slowly, looking at her seriously. “I won’t let them keep you if you don’t want to stay,” I say softly. “And if you decide that’s what you want, then I’ll support you. They’ll never lock you up again, Sadie. I promise you that.” She sighs. “We really need to do this, don’t we?” “We really do,” I say. “Okay.” She sits up and nods her head, “Fine, alright. We’ll do it. We’ll go see my parents. How hard can it be, right?” “It’s the simplest thing in the world,” I say. “Right. I’ll just look at them and say, ‘Hey guys, this man you hate, he got me pregnant. And I’m keeping it. And I’m staying with him now. Bye!’ It’ll go over well.” I grin at her. “I think your dad might have a heart attack. His pure, virginal, perfect daughter is sullied by a commoner like me.”

“You joke, but he really does think that.” She makes a face, “It’s like because you were born without money, you’re somehow… evil? Or not as good, at least. Like only the chosen people are rich.” “It’s a mindset I’ll never understand.” “Makes it easy for him to hate poor people. And to do things that don’t help them. I don’t think he sees poor people as actual humans.” I sigh and shake my head. “Come on, Sadie. Don’t dwell too much. We’ll go, break the news, and then leave.” “Simple,” she says, and she’s quiet for a second. Then she looks up at me and grins. “Better hope Silas isn’t there.” I grin right back. “He better hope he’s not there.” I flex a little and she laughs. But beneath that laugh, I can already see a hint of fear, creeping in beneath her strong exterior.

SHE FIDGETS the whole elevator ride up to her parents’ apartment. I hold her hand the whole time, trying to help keep her calm, but there’s only so

much we can do. After our conversation in the morning, she went right into her room and called her father. She told him that we want to meet, but wouldn’t say more, and he agreed to have us back at the apartment. We both agreed that it’s better not to wait. And so just a few hours after making the decision, we’re riding in the elevator up to her family home, the place she grew up. “It’s going to be okay,” I say to her. “I’m here with you.” “I know.” She takes a deep breath. “It’ll be fine. My father can’t do anything.” “No, he can’t. Not with me here.” She nods her head, but looks uncertain. It’s okay though. I’m going to be strong for both of us. Maybe she’s afraid and nervous, but I promised her that I won’t let them take her or hurt her anymore, and I’m going to keep that promise. The elevator dings when it reaches their floor. I glance at her. “Ready?” I ask. “Nope,” she says as the door slide open.

We walk forward down a short hallway to their front door. Sadie pauses, then knocks softly. “Feels weird to knock,” she says. I don’t say anything, I just squeeze her hand. A few seconds later, a man opens the door. He’s in his late forties, maybe early fifties, and I don’t recognize him. “Hey, Thomas,” Sadie says. The man smiles with genuine pleasure. “Miss Sadie, I’m glad you’re back.” He gestures for us to step inside. I assume Thomas is a man that works for her family. He gives me a nod, though his smile isn’t as genuine when he turns it on me. That doesn’t matter. These people probably all think I’m the devil or something, here to steal away their pure little girl. Too bad their little girl isn’t pure at all, and probably never was. I got a taste of what’s inside of her, and now I know that she’s a dirty, filthy girl, and she likes it that way. “Your father is waiting in his study,” Thomas says to Sadie. “Thank you.” She gives him another smile. He doesn’t follow as we head off into the house.

I can’t help but grin a little bit. Sadie gives me a weird look. “What?” she asks. “Nothing,” I say. “Just never met a girlfriend’s dad before.” She pauses a second. “Girlfriend?” I shrug. “What else would I call you?” “Illegitimate baby momma,” she says. I grin. “You’re that, too.” She squeezes my hand and suddenly she seems less nervous. We head down the hall and I can’t help but look around. The apartment looks like it was decorated at the turn of the century. Old oil paintings cover the walls, and priceless statues sit on pure marble pedestals. It’s a far cry from the place where I grew up. I can’t even imagine living in this apartment. It’s more like a museum than a home. We pass a few other doors and other staff members before finally stopping outside a pair of big double doors. “Dad’s study,” she says. “You ready?” I nod. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“Nope,” she says, and she pushes open the doors. Hans Tillman, Sadie’s father, is a severe man. I don’t know any other way to describe him. He has thinning blond hair turning gray, which makes it look almost white. His light blue eyes turn instantly onto his daughter but no smile or any outward sign of recognition flashes across his face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was looking at a stranger. “Hello, Sadie,” he says. “I was hoping you’d come alone.” “I needed Gavin to be here for this,” she says. Tillman raises an eyebrow. “For this? I assumed you were just coming home to apologize for running off with that man.” He doesn’t even bother to look at me. “Father, this is important. Is mother home?” He shrugs. “She’s here somewhere.” “Can you call her? It’s important.” He looks at her for a second before pushing a button. “Thomas, bring Regina down here, please.” We stand there in an awkward silence. Tillman turns back to whatever he was doing on his

computer. I glance at Sadie and she rolls her eyes. She’s probably used to these stupid little power games. Regina Tillman appears moments later. She sweeps into the room and instantly goes to stand next to her husband. Unlike Hans, Regina glares at me, openly hostile and not trying to hide it. “Mother, father,” Sadie says. “I have something important to say.” Regina glares at me. “Does he need to be here?” “Apparently so,” Hans says. “Regina, please. Let the girl speak.” Sadie clears her throat. “I don’t know how else to say it, so I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant, and Gavin is the father.” A stunned silence falls across the room. Her father doesn’t react, but her mother’s face contorts into a mixture of agony and pure anger. “How could you?” she hisses. “With this, this, lowclass trash?” Her mother looks like she might pass out from rage. “It just happened,” Sadie says. “And I’m keeping the baby. I just wanted you two to understand why I left.”

“I’m going to support her,” I say. “And the baby.” Regina Tillman’s gaze falls upon me and I can tell she wants my head to explode. “Do not speak, you gutter rat,” she says. I smirk at her. Hans puts a hand on his wife’s back. “Regina, please,” Hans says. “Calm yourself.” He turns back to Sadie. “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asks. She nods once. “I’m sure.” Hans sighs. “You stupid little girl,” he says. I clench my fists. I can handle them insulting me, but I can’t take it when they talk to her that way. “I’ve given you everything,” Hans continues. “I expected only a modicum of loyalty and some poise. Instead, you’re unwed and pregnant by some upstart rat nearly twice your age.” Hans shakes his head. “I am disappointed in you, Sadie. I always thought you were a pathetic little girl, but now I see that you’re stupid as well.” “Don’t talk to her that way,” I say, unable to stop myself. “You pompous ass.” His gaze turns to me and a smile spreads across his face. “How’s business, Gavin?” I keep myself calm as Sadie looks at me, horrified.

“Business is fine, Hans.” “Good, good,” he says. “I wouldn’t want it to get bad for you.” “Threats won’t work,” I say to him softly. “I’m respecting Sadie, something you’ve never done. This is her choice.” “Her choice?” Hans barks a single laugh. “She’s a child, Gavin. She’s too stupid to know what’s best for her. I want her to marry someone appropriate who can take care of her and give her what she needs, someone with good breeding so that her children may also be quality people. But you? You’re just trash. And your child will be trash as well.” The look on Sadie’s face tells me everything. It’s pure horror and loathing. This was a mistake. I don’t know what I expected, maybe something like this. But her parents are nastier, more horrible than I ever could have imagined. Her father’s insane eugenics-like idea of breeding the rich with the rich is just shy of insane, and most certainly it’s sick. I take Sadie’s hand in mine. “Come on,” I say softly to her. “Let’s go.” “Oh no, you don’t,” Regina says, coming around

the desk. “Dear,” Hans says sharply. “Stop it. Let the girl go.” Sadie lingers for a second. “Can I see Peter?” Her father shakes his head. “If you want to go, then go. If you want to stay, you will do as I tell you. This is your choice.” She pauses for a second, and I can see the pain so clear on her face. I wish I could protect her from this too, but I can’t. Finally, she turns. We walk together back through the doors, her mother and her father disappearing behind us. We go straight back out the front door, and she doesn’t cry until we get into the elevator.

22

GAVIN ONE MONTH LATER

I

t’s late when I finally get to leave the office. I’m dealing with a tidal wave of shit that’s been slowly threatening to consume everything, mostly because of that Tillman fuck, but I can handle it. I have to handle it. For Sadie and the baby. I’ve never had someone live with me before. I always thought it would be pretty awful. But truth is, I love having Sadie around the house. The work stuff is bullshit and stressful and hard, but as soon as I get home every day, I’m reminded of why I’m doing this, and it’s all worthwhile. Today is no exception. I unlock the door and step inside, and there’s Sadie. She grins at me a little bit as I shut the door behind me and turn to face her.

She’s wearing only a thin white t-shirt, practically see-through, and her nipples are hard. “Tough day?” she asks. She walks over to me and lifts her arms up to wrap them around my neck, and I can’t help but notice she’s not wearing any panties. I smile a little. “No worse than any other day.” “Good.” She kisses me softly. “You sounded stressed earlier.” “You know. Just the usual shit.” “My father still giving you a hard time?” “Still trying to destroy me,” I confirm. She pouts a little bit. “Poor Gavin. What can I do to make it better?” I smirk at her and put my hands on her hips. “I don’t know.” She kisses my neck then drops down to her knees. I watch as she unbuckles my belt and my cock is hard as fuck by the time she has my boxer briefs down around my ankles. She strokes my thick cock and looks up at me. “I could get used to this,” I say to her.

“I’m sure you can,” she says. “You’re stressed. I thought maybe I could help with that by doing what I do best.” “You mean by sucking my cock?” “That’s right, Daddy.” I groan as she takes my cock in her mouth. She’s gotten so fucking good at that as she slowly slides it deep down into her throat. I lace my fingers through her hair as she begins to suck my tip, sliding her hand along the shaft. She’s so fucking sexy. This is my life now. She doesn’t always suck me off after work, but it’s something new every day. Whether I’m tying her up in the bedroom, or fucking her tight little asshole, or pressing her breasts against the windows as I fuck her over the city, she’s insatiable. I wasn’t sure if the pregnancy would change anything, but she’s handling it so well. In fact, she once told me that she feels better than she ever has, like she has a purpose now, and it’s growing inside of her every single day. “Fuck, Sadie girl,” I groan as she takes me deep into her throat again. I press her head down, holding her there, fucking moaning as my cock fills her little throat.

She pulls back, saliva covering my cock, and jerks me fast. “I want to make you feel good, Daddy,” she says, pouting up at me. “Does it feel good?” “It feels fucking incredible,” I say, practically a growl. “Suck that cock, girl. Fucking choke on it.” She moans and takes me back into her mouth again, sliding up and down, sucking me faster. I press her down then let her back up, alternating between sucking my tip and deep-throating my whole cock. As she sucks me, every single thing goes away. All of my stress disappears. I feel so fucking good as she works me, sucking her Daddy’s cock, my pregnant Sadie girl. She sucks me faster and faster and I can feel the glow growing. “Swallow my fucking come,” I say to her. “Yes, Daddy,” she says, sucking me even faster. I come hard in her mouth, and she doesn’t even hesitate to swallow every drop. She cleans it up with her tongue when I’m finished. “Fucking hell,” I say. She stands up, smiling. “All better?” “All better,” I say, grabbing her and kissing her deeply.

She laughs when I’m done and I head inside. I drop the mail on the counter along with my briefcase, then I head back into the bedroom. “What do you want for dinner?” I call out to her. “I was thinking about ordering some Indian food.” I pull on some clean boxers and jeans. “Or we can go out somewhere. Or I can cook. Whatever you want.” Once I’m dressed, I head back out into the kitchen. Sadie is standing at the counter, staring at a piece of paper. A torn open envelope is on the counter in front of her. “Sadie?” I ask. “What’s wrong?” Her face is stuck in a mask of horror, fear, and disbelief. She looks up at me slowly. “It’s a letter,” she says. “What does it say?” I ask gently. She hesitates a second. “Here, take it.” She thrusts the piece of paper at me. I take it from her hands, frowning. The letterhead is from a major law firm in the city, one of the best, if not the best. The name at the bottom is hand signed, and it’s one of the names of the founding partners.

I know what this is without even having to read it. I skim through the legal jargon and read enough just to get a sense of what the letter means. I put it down on the counter with a sigh and pull her against me. “You’re going to be okay,” I say to her. “I didn’t expect this so soon.” “I know. But we’ll get through it.” “Why are they like this?” she asks me, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know.” “I mean, I get being angry. And upset. I hoped maybe they’d come around. But they want to kick me out of the family, Gavin, and not just informally. They want to make it legal. They want to bury me.” I nod and hold her tightly. The letter basically said that her father wishes to set up a meeting to go over her status as a member of the family. It goes on to say a bunch of other legalistic jargon, but if you read between the lines, she’s pretty much right. Her family wants to get rid of her, and they want to do it for real. That surprises even me. I know her family is a bunch of bloodsucking assholes that only care about their name and their fortune. They don’t give

a shit about Sadie at all. But part of me thought they’d at least wait until the baby was born to disown her. But no, apparently they gave her one month, and now she’s done. I think I understand why she’s upset. It’s not about the money, although of course part of her is angry about that. Her two brothers will get even more from the estate now because she’s been written out. And even Peter hasn’t reached out to her, which I know is tearing her up inside. No, it’s really just about her family. She always thought she was a member of their tribe, a part of their family, an important person in their lives. She’s a daughter and a sister to them, and yet now they’re formally kicking her out. Family is supposed to be something you’re stuck with no matter what, even if you hate your family, they’re still family. That never changes. But apparently that’s not the case with the Tillmans. Apparently, if you make a mistake, and then you go against their wishes, they just kick you out. “What am I going to do?” she asks me. I gently let her go and sit her down at the counter

“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” I say finally. “I have a lawyer and I can get him involved if you want.” “No,” she says quickly. “God, no. I don’t want to get into that.” “Sadie,” I say softly. “They want to take everything from you.” “I know,” she says, a little angry. “And not just the money. They want to take my identity away. They want to erase me.” I nod and cross my arms. “Which is why maybe we should fight them.” “To what end?” she asks me, her eyes wide. “What can we possibly achieve by going up against my family?” “I don’t know,” I admit slowly. “I really don’t know.” “And I know they’re bleeding you dry, too,” I say. “Maybe if I do this, they’ll leave you alone.” “We can’t be sure of that. And if you do walk away, you’ll be giving it all up. Forever. There’s no going back.” “I know.” She stares at the counter. “Peter still hasn’t called me, you know. Of everyone, I thought

he’d call.” “Why not try calling him?” I ask a little hesitantly. “And say what? ‘Oh hello Peter, it’s me, your disgraced sister Sadie. How’s it going?’ I don’t think so.” “That doesn’t sound too bad to me.” I give her a little grin. She just shakes her head. “I can’t do it. They’ve basically thrown me out already, haven’t they? Now they just want to make it official.” “Sadie.” I walk around the counter and sit down next to her. “I support whatever decision you make. But don’t you just… don’t you want to make the fuckers bleed, just a little bit?” She shakes her head. “No. They’re still my family.” “Fuck,” I say, sighing. “After all this, you still want to hold back? Let me hire a lawyer. Let me go after them, drag them through the fucking mud. Who knows? Maybe they’re afraid of a fight, and we’ll win.” “I don’t want to win,” she says. “I don’t want to fight them. I just want to be done with them. I want to get away from them. They want to suck me back in, but I can’t do it.”

I nod slowly. I guess I understand that. If it were me, I’d fight them just out of spite, just to make them squirm. I’m not entirely convinced that I’m not going to do just that. I think I could make Tillman’s fucking life miserable in court. I may be hurting right now, but I’m still fucking rich, and I can still wield considerable funds against him. And I know he won’t like that shit. But Sadie doesn’t want it. I wish it were different, but she’s special. She’s a better person than I’ll ever be, that’s for sure. “So what now?” I ask her. She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess we go to this meeting.” “They want to hold it at your father’s apartment,” I say, pointedly not calling it her home. She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter where.” “Okay then.” I pause, then take her hand and look deep into her eyes. “Listen to me, Sadie. I need you to know something.” She looks at me, and I can see the sadness deep inside of her. She’s losing everything for this, for our baby and for me. Everything she’s known and loved is being torn away by her spiteful and angry parents. What’s she left with?

Hopefully, freedom. And happiness. “What?” she asks softly. “I know you feel like you’re losing your family. But I’m your family now. Me, you, and our baby. We’ll be a family.” She smiles slightly. “Really?” “Really,” I say. “I’ll take care of both of you. Always. We won’t be Tillmans, but we’ll be our own thing. We can be happy.” “Yeah,” she says. “You can do whatever you want. Go to school, paint, start a charity, I don’t care. I’ll support whatever you want.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “You can be free with me.” “Yeah,” she says again, and this time she seems more sure of herself. “I was never going to be free back home. I was going to be Milo’s wife.” She laughs a little ruefully. “You dodged a bullet.” I can’t help but grin. “Come here,” she says, pulling me in for another kiss. I return her kiss, although inwardly I don’t know how this is going to shape out. We have one more

meeting with her family. Last time, it went pretty fucking awful, but this time might be different. Or it’ll be terrible again, but we’ll survive it. We’ll survive this and be together, because I wasn’t lying when I said that we’re a family now. I’ll take care of her always, and I’ll try to make damn sure that she’s happy, no matter what.

23

SADIE

E

ven after a month has passed, I can still remember that afternoon in my old apartment when we told my parents that I’m pregnant. I keep reliving that moment. My mother’s scorn was palpable, and I could feel my father’s disappointment in my bones. I wish I could go back and say something, anything, that would make them understand that this isn’t just some stupid childish fling. I wish I could make them really see how I feel about Gavin. But I can’t and I won’t. Not after what they said to me. And not after that letter. I look over at Gavin and force myself to smile. We’re on the elevator up to the apartment again,

though this time we’re only meeting with my father. I doubt my mother even knows we’re coming, Gavin smiles back and squeezes my hand, just like before. He’s been so good through all of this. I never imagined I’d have someone who could keep me as centered and as grounded as he can, but it’s exactly what I need. He calms me when I’m stressed and makes me feel like everything is going to be okay in the future. Even when the future seems terrifying, he’s there for me. I don’t know a damn thing about having a baby. I don’t know how to raise one. I’ve never even held one. But Gavin bought all the books and even read them, and I know he’s going to be a good father. He’s changed over the last month, in subtle ways, but they’re noticeable. He doesn’t go out with his friends as often and he doesn’t drink as much. He works out even more and seems very intent on the future. He’s stressed with work, of course, since my father is trying to destroy him, but he’s still there for me. And he wants me to fight. I have to admit that it’s tempting. I don’t want my family’s money. I don’t want a single freaking dime from them at all. But I don’t want to make this easy on them either. I want it to be difficult to kick me out of the family,

because it should be. It shouldn’t be easy to send me away and to forget about me. I was their daughter for so long. And maybe I made some mistakes, at least in their eyes, but I’m still their daughter no matter what. Of course, they don’t see me that way, and they never did. It’s hard to accept that, really and truly accept it, even though I know it’s the truth. That’s what I’m here for today, though. I’m going to accept my place in the world. I’m going to accept that my family doesn’t want me and that I’m making a new family with Gavin, one where I’m going to be much happier. “Ready?” Gavin asks when the elevator reaches the top floor. “Ready,” I say, feeling anything but. We step out and head down the hall. Like before, I knock on the door, feeling awkward. But instead of Thomas opening up, Peter stands there. I look back at him, surprised. He looks like the same old Peter, but instead of his usually sly smile for me, he stares blankly. “You’re right on time,” he says. “Hi, Peter,” I respond. “It’s good to see you.”

He nods. “Father’s in his study.” I glance back at Gavin as we follow Peter into the apartment. Of everything that has happened, the way Peter’s acting toward me right now hurts the most. We follow him down the hall and he doesn’t look at me again, like I’m some stranger visiting instead of the sister he’s been so close with for so long. “Hold on,” I say to Gavin. “Can you wait here?” He pauses. “Sure,” he says. I turn to Peter, who looks a little surprised. “Can I talk to you?” I ask him. He hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. Sure.” I lead him into the dining room and shut the door behind us. I turn to him and for a second, I think that I see the brother I once loved so much. “I’ve missed you,” I say to him. “I’m sorry things are so weird right now.” He glances away. “Why’d you do it?” “Do what?” “Get pregnant. By that… person.” I frown and shake my head. “I didn’t meant to get

pregnant. And I like Gavin… I like him a lot. He makes me happy.” “Still.” Peter looks back at me and I think he might be pleading with me. “The family comes over everything. You know that.” “They were going to marry me off to Milo,” I say softly. “Doesn’t what I want count at all?” “No,” Peter says firmly. “It doesn’t count for any of us. You know that. And you’re still turning your back on us.” “I’m not,” I say. “I’m not turning my back at all. Father is forcing me to leave.” “If you got rid of that… thing, you could stay.” I stare at him, shocked. How could Peter, my loving brother, say something like that to me? “It’s my baby,” I say flatly. “It’s a mistake.” He stares at me again with that blank expression. “Come on. Father’s waiting.” Peter opens the doors and steps back out into the hall. I watch him for a second then follow, biting back my tears. I won’t freaking cry. I won’t give them the satisfaction.

But that moment back there, that was the end. He was my last hope. Part of me hoped that Peter was still somehow on my side, despite everything, and that he’d make it all okay. He used to do that all the time when I fought with Michael, back when we were kids. We’re not kids anymore. And Peter isn’t my brother. “Go right in,” Peter says as we reach my father’s study. I don’t look at him as he walks past me and disappears back into the apartment. Gavin takes my hand again. “You okay?” he whispers. “What did he say?” “Nothing,” I answer. “Let’s get this over with.” Gavin frowns but doesn’t argue. I open the doors and we step into my father’s office. Hans Tillman looks up as we enter. He’s sitting behind his desk just like last time. We walk straight in and sit down in the chairs in front of his desk like it’s some business meeting. He arches his fingers in front of him and looks at me. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “I had no other choice.” He smiles a bit. “You always have a choice, Sadie.”

“Well, here I am. Let’s talk.” “I don’t feel like dragging this out anymore, so I’m going to get right to the point.” Father looks at Gavin and smiles a bit. “You’re hurting right now. I know that. You’re angry with me and my family, and your business isn’t doing so hot. Am I right?” Gavin hesitates then nods. “You’re right.” “You probably want to fight this,” father says. “I do,” Gavin confirms. “Here’s what I’ll offer. If Sadie accepts a complete and utter separation from the Tillman family, including changing her surname to something else, then I will back off your businesses and leave the two of you alone. Provided you never enter into our lives again.” Gavin stares at my father then looks at me. “I’d turn him down right now if I were you,” he says. “But it’s your choice.” I stare at my father, at the lines on his face, at the wrinkles forming. He looks older than he did a month ago, somehow frailer. I don’t know why but I suddenly see him as the man he’s always been, a mean and spiteful man, but not as my father. That façade is gone now, and he’s just Hans Tillman.

That makes what I say next easy. “Okay.” Both men look at me. Gavin seems sad, but not surprised, while my father seems genuinely shocked. “Okay?” he asks. “You agree to all of my terms?” “Yes,” I say. “I want to leave this family. I don’t want your money. If I fought, it would just be out of spite, but I’m done with that. I don’t want to be like you anymore. So I’ll sign any documents you want and I’ll change my name, as long as you leave us alone just as we’ll leave you alone.” Hans Tillman stares at me for a second then nods slowly. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t seem triumphant. In fact, he just seems tired. “Very well,” he says. “It’ll all be in writing. I’ll have my lawyers send over the paperwork as soon as possible.” “Good,” I say. “Are we done here?” He hesitates before nodding. “We’re done here.” “Have a good life, Hans,” I say, standing. He watches me, but doesn’t answer. Gavin takes my hand and we leave the office

without another word. I manage to make it out into the elevator before I start crying. “It’s okay,” Gavin whispers. “It’s okay. It’s over now.” He pulls me in close and holds me as we sink back down toward the street. “I just want you to know, I’m not crying about what happened back there,” I say as we finally reach the lobby. I get myself together as we walk across the marble floor. “I’m really not.” “Why are you crying, then?” he asks me, holding my hand as we step out into the warm city afternoon. “I’m sad for the person that I used to be,” I say. “I’m sad for that naïve girl. But I’m really, really happy that this is what happened. I’m happy it’s with you.” He smiles at me and kisses me softly. “Come on, I want to show you something.” I follow him as we walk down the sidewalk. “Where are we going?” I ask. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.” We pass by familiar shops, restaurants, and churches. This was my neighborhood once, although it’s not anymore. I’ll miss parts of it and

won’t miss other parts, but it’ll always be important to me. We walk a few blocks and ahead I can see the park rising up in the middle of all the concrete. He strides up to the streetlight that I used to stand under when he’d come pick me up after I snuck out. I join him there, smiling a little bit. “This is familiar,” I say. “It wasn’t so long ago that you stood there, waiting for me,” he says. “You risked a lot for that.” “I didn’t see it that way.” “Maybe,” he says. “I just wanted to be happy. And I am now.” “Well, there’s one thing I’m happy about. And it’s that your father wants you to change your name.” I sigh and shake my head. “It’s so petty. But I guess I get to make up my own surname, which is kind of cool, right?” He nods. “If that’s what you want. But I have a better idea.” My heart starts hammering in my chest and I feel dizzy as Gavin drops to one knee in front of me.

“Sadie, I told you I want to start a family with you. And I want to do it the right way. I want this to be real.” “Gavin,” I say, but can’t find any other words. “I’m glad you have to change your last name, because I want you to take mine.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small black box. He flips it open, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring. “Sadie, will you marry me?” I stare at him in total shock. I didn’t know he wanted to get married. I always assumed he thought marriage was impossible, or that he just didn’t want to do it. But as he kneels down in front of me, holding out that beautiful ring, I know this is what I’ve been waiting for all my life. “Yes,” I whisper. He takes my hand and slides on the ring. It fits perfectly, which shouldn’t surprise me. Gavin doesn’t do anything halfway. He stands and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “I love you, Sadie girl,” he says. “I love you too,” I answer, then I get up on my tiptoes so that I can whisper in his ear. “Daddy.” He crushes my mouth with a kiss and joy spreads

through my whole body. In one day, I lost one family, but I gained another. I’m going to be Sadie Waller, forever and ever. We’ll raise our child together, and I’ll be happy and free. Finally, I’ll be happy and free. I lose myself in the kiss and I find myself with the man that I love.

24

SADIE ONE YEAR LATER

“H

old still!” I giggle as I pull off Joanie’s diaper.

“Stinky,” I say. Joanie squirms as I clean her off and put on a fresh diaper. I pick her up and kiss her. “All better,” I say. “How’s my little poop machine?” I turn to Gavin and grin at him. “She’s healthy, that’s for sure.” “Give her over.” He reaches out and I hand Joanie off. Gavin laughs and cuddles her close, and Joanie giggles and looks around. He carries her out into the living room and I follow.

It’s so quiet in our neighborhood. Ever since we moved out of the city and into the suburbs, into this gorgeous little estate right on the edge of town, I’ve had to get used to how calm things are. But I love it. I love our new house and our little baby. Gavin has slowly been hiring some staff to help out, and I’ve been making friends with some young moms in the area. I took up painting and joined a book club, though Joanie takes up most of my time. “Can’t complain, right?” Gavin remarks as I join him on the couch. “Sure can’t,” I agree. He’s been saying that a lot lately, which only makes me so happy. After my father sent over the papers and I signed away my rights to the Tillman fortune, we got married almost right away. I took Gavin’s name, officially making me Sadie Waller, and I never looked back. We don’t speak to my family, as part of the agreement, and my father stopped attacking Gavin’s businesses. Since then, things have been incredible. The pregnancy was hard but good. I felt productive every single day, growing Joanie inside of me. And now that we’re a family, I feel more fulfilled than I ever have before.

Gavin leans over and kisses me softly. “You look gorgeous today, you know.” I grin at him. “Again already?” He shrugs, giving me a look. “Marcia is coming soon.” “In a half hour.” “I can wait. Can you?” I laugh and kiss him a little bit. That part of our relationship hasn’t changed at all. Sex is a constant with us, almost every single day if we can. That intimacy makes me so happy, in a way that I can barely describe. Joanie makes things harder, but we hired Marcia to come every afternoon and help out for a little bit while we have some much-needed private time. Our relationship has changed in other ways, though. We’re closer now. We visit his old neighborhood all the time, and we see Chuck pretty often. He even comes out to visit us in our “suburban wasteland” as he likes to call it. But he’s a good godfather and uncle, so I can’t complain. Sometimes, I miss my brothers, even Michael. I wish they could be in Joanie’s life. I wish Joanie could have grandparents as well, but it doesn’t matter. She’s going to get so much love from me

and Gavin that she’ll never know the difference. Gavin passes me Joanie and stands up. “I’m going to go shower,” he says. “I expect you in there as soon as Marcia shows up. Understood?” I laugh and nod. “Yes, Daddy.” He kisses me softly again, then disappears back upstairs. I hold Joanie up and look at her. “You can do whatever you want in life,” I say softly. “Okay, honey? You’ll be happy. I promise.” She just gazes back at me, but doesn’t say a word. I used to be one of the heirs to the Tillman family fortune, but not anymore. I used to have a social position and I was a member of a very wellrespected family. I had power and wealth and I don’t miss any of it, not even a little bit. I’d give it all up. I’d even give up all of Gavin’s money if I had to. I don’t want a single dime if that means I can’t be free to do what I want. I never want to be part of a family that won’t let Joanie do whatever she wants and be whoever she wants to be. Gavin takes care of me and Joanie. He provides everything we could possibly need and more. He makes me happy. Every day feels like it’s better

than the last, all because I have Gavin in my life. I’m so lucky. I’m so happy I got pregnant with Joanie and I’m so happy that I left my old life behind. Because my new life is so much better than I ever could have guessed. I don’t need to be stuck doing one thing, forced into a life I don’t want. I can make my own family and my own world. All I need are Gavin and Joanie, and I’m happy, forever, for the rest of my life. Nothing will change that, and I know that Gavin will always be there for both of us. Every time I think about him, I can’t help but smile. I just can’t wait for Marcia to get here so that I can go upstairs and let my Daddy make my body feel good.

INTENSE: A DARK BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

PROLOGUE: ARIA

I

test my restraints impatiently then lie back on the bed with a sigh.

It’s been almost a week since he bought me. One week ago, I thought my life was about to change. And it has. It changed more than I could possibly imagine, but not in the ways I expected. He’s mysterious, tall, handsome, dark, and more dominating than I ever could have guessed. He makes me beg and beg for more but never gives me what I want. He makes it feel good in other ways. The bed is enormous with a high, ornate canopy. The soft white silky fabric that hangs down on all sides mutes the light and makes it hard to see the

rest of the beautiful room. My room. He gave me my very own room complete with a bathroom, tiny little sitting area, personal gym, and twenty-four-hour room service. It’s like living in my own little paradise. Except paradise should give me what I want, which he refuses to. He keeps whispering in my ear, soon, soon, just beg a little longer, but each night he leaves me quivering with desire. I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d actually want this more than anything, but now that I do, he just won’t budge. I want him. I want his touch. I bite my lip as I realize how dripping wet I am. I wish I could reach down and touch myself. These last few nights, that’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane. But I can’t move since my wrists are tied to the headboard with soft black silk. My heart is hammering in my chest. I want him, but I don’t know when he’ll come. He tied me up, kissed me softly on the lips and then told me to be patient. That was almost a half hour ago. I’m trying to be patient, just like he told me to be, but it’s hard. Actually, it’s impossible. I want him to push apart

the canopy and crawl on top of me. I want him to crush me with his muscular body, pin me down to the bed, have his way with me. I want him to ravish me. After all, that’s why he bought me. I’m supposed to give into his every desire, to pleasure him. Instead, he’s spent this last week teasing me, getting to know me, giving me everything I want. I’m pampered but I’m so frustrated. I perk up suddenly when I hear the door open and close. I hear his footsteps move across the floor, but I don’t say a word. That’s part of the game. I’m supposed to be silent and demure. I’m supposed to do exactly what he says, and if he goes too far, there’s a certain word I can use. It’s our safe word. If I say it, the game stops instantly. But I can’t imagine using it. I want the games. They keep me going. I’m his for a month. He owns me and at first, I hated it. I never wanted to be in this position, but here I am. Now though, I’m not so sure. I’m not positive that I hate this. I don’t hate him, that I’m sure of. Part of me doesn’t like being bought and sold, but part of me finds it so exciting that he owns me completely,

at least for a month. I can sense him standing next to the bed. My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do to me this time, but I can’t wait to find out. The fabric parts and I stare up into his piercing green eyes, a slight smile on his lips. He leans over me, sitting on the bed, half in and half out of the canopy. He’s wearing a clean white shirt unbuttoned halfway down that’s tucked into a beautiful pair of tailored suit pants. His smile is so delicious. I stare into his eyes, waiting, begging, needing. “You’ve been good,” he says, barely a whisper. He moves closer to me. “Do you know what good girls get?” I shake my head slightly, eyes wide, heart hammering. “They get whatever they want,” he says, still smiling. “What do you want, my little toy?” He pauses and his smile gets bigger. “You may speak.” “You,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “I want you.” “Good.” His thumb moves down my lips. I part my mouth and take his thumb between my teeth. I can

feel my pulse between my legs as his other hand moves slowly down my chest, pausing over my breasts, moving down toward my pussy. “You’ve been so good, little toy, so good,” he says, mouth close to my ear. His hand pauses just above my pussy. I’m completely naked and dripping wet, as vulnerable as I possibly can be, and yet it only makes me that much more aroused. “Do you think you deserve it?” he asks. “Tell me if you do.” “I deserve it,” I say. “I’ve been so patient.” “Yes, you have.” He kisses my ear, nibbles it softly, then kisses my neck. “So patient. So good. I’ve spoiled you enough, haven’t I?” “Yes,” I moan. “I’m spoiled.” He pulls back, a wicked smile on his lips. “I didn’t say you could respond.” I stare, eyes wide, realizing my mistake. He pulls his thumb from between my legs and moves up onto the bed. “Now you’ll need to be punished.” He moves down between my legs, spreading them wide. I practically moan as he looks at my dripping wet pussy, bare and clean for him.

I’m dripping. I’m aching. “Please,” I whisper. “Punish me.” He grins and when he touches my body, my entire world shrinks down to the pressure of his fingers against my skin, and everything goes light.

1

ETHAN ONE WEEK EARLIER

I

lean back in my large black leather chair and look out the wall-sized window, staring out across the city.

It’s the middle of the day and already I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept over the last month as my company, World Line Inc., has gone through some enormous structural changes. We acquired one of our smaller competitors, and in the process we’ve had to change things up to fit their new employees and manufacturing. It’s been exhausting, but the end is almost near. And when we’re finished, World Line will be one of the largest manufacturing tech companies in the world. I sigh, stretching. I crack my neck and lean back,

groaning. I feel like a man twice my age, although I’m only thirty-two. I’ve spent the majority of my life so far, from when I was just a college dropout at the age of twenty to now, building this company and growing it aggressively. I started out with a simple idea, a tweak to the manufacturing process, and grew it into a world-wide conglomerate. I sacrificed a lot to get where I am. The magazines all like to call me the most eligible bachelor under forty, but I rarely ever feel that way. I fucked my way through the socialite scene, because I don’t have time to spend on getting close to women. But where has that left me? I can’t help but wonder sometimes if things would be better if I gave a woman more than just one night. Maybe not a relationship, because I’m not interested in getting fucking tied down, but something. I don’t know what. A friendship, a fuck buddy. Hell, I barely have time for anything outside of the business these days. I lean back and put my hands on the back of my head, sighing. It probably doesn’t matter, anyway. I have enough money to retire and live a rich life at this point, but I know I’m never going to. That’s not the type of man that I am. Settling down isn’t something I want. I work hard and I play hard when I get the time. I live to win

and to dominate everything around me, that’s how I’ve gotten to where I am. Thinking too hard about my life won’t do any good, not at this point. As I’m about to turn back to my desk and get back to these contracts, my cellphone buzzes. I pick it up and unlock the screen, cocking my head at the message. It’s from a blocked number. Which is unusual, because I have my phone set up to block all incoming messages from blocked numbers. But that’s not the weirdest part. As I read the message, I can’t help but think I’ve been transported to some new universe. Dear Mr. Locks, You are cordially invited to bid on the most beautiful women on the market. This auction is only for men of means and power. It is a private event. If interested, simply respond to this message. You were invited by one Mr. Range. See him for any questions. Respond in twenty-four hours. Cordially, The Syndicate. I read the message over twice before I start to understand what it’s saying. It’s an invitation to a human auction. I’ve heard about these things, but only as whispers. It’s said that there are places where only the most attractive

women are sold for high prices and long periods of time. It’s a way to buy a wife or a mistress even, or maybe just a girlfriend for a week. I never went looking for these auctions because I never needed to. I know that some of my peers engage in them, because it’s easier to buy a woman for a week than it is to pick one up, but I usually like the chase. It’s fun to seduce and be seduced. These escorts, they’re just a way to fuck and be done with it. I have no clue why Mack invited me to this auction. Mack Range is one of my closest friends and the owner of a company we often do business with. We’ve been to several parties together and he knows I have no trouble getting women when I want them. Annoyed, I quickly call Mack up. He answers on the third ring. “Locks!” he says. “What do you want? I thought you were too busy to talk right now.” “I just got a really strange message, Mack. From The Syndicate. Know about it?” There’s a pause, and for a second I think we got disconnected. When Mack finally speaks, he sounds hurried and distracted.

“Let’s meet for lunch,” he says. “I’m buying. We’ll talk about it then.” “Mack,” I grumble. “You know I can’t. Just tell me what the deal is with this.” “We can’t talk about it over the phone,” he says softly. “Luciano’s at two. Okay?” I pause, head cocked. What’s so damn important that we can’t talk about it over the phone? But then again, the message did say that it was very private. It wasn’t threatening, not exactly, but there’s always a veiled threat when secrecy is involved. It’s always keep this secret, or else. I have to admit, I’m intrigued. Mack has good taste and has never steered me wrong before. Plus, this secrecy thing has me interested. I want to know more about it now just because I’m not supposed to talk about it. “Fine,” I say. “You’re definitely buying.” “See you then.” He hangs up quickly. I put my phone down and shake my head, not sure what to make of this. It’s out of nowhere. I was at a party with Mack maybe two months ago, before this merger got too insane. We were talking about women and

relationships, and he did say something a little strange. He mentioned paying top dollar for a girlfriend at the time, which I assumed meant that he just pays for lunches and hotel rooms. I laughed and said I was always looking for a deal. Maybe this is what he was talking about. Maybe he meant he literally pays top dollar. I’ve never bought pussy before. I never had to. But then again, Mack never has either, or at least I didn’t think he needed to. He’s around my age, a little less rich, but still pretty handsome. I’ve never seen him struggle bringing a woman home before. If he’s paying for it from these people, it must be serious. Still, the idea of paying for it just seems so strange and foreign to me. The day passes quickly as I dive back into work. It’s one forty-five by the time I look up again and have to practically run downstairs to get into the company car that takes me over to Luciano’s, a little Italian place on the edge of town. I’m uncertain as I climb out of the car and instruct the driver to wait for me. I don’t think I’ll stay the whole lunch, considering the mountain of paperwork I have back at the office waiting for me. Besides, this whole thing is about prostitutes, and I’m just... not that interested.

I feel strangely nervous as I step into Luciano’s. I’m not sure why, since Mack is one of my closest friends, but there’s something about this whole thing that has me on edge. The hostess points me to a private booth in the back corner, away from the normal lunch crowd. I slide into the booth across from Mack. “Didn’t think you’d show,” he says. “I keep my appointments.” He grins and we shake hands. Mack has that young boyish charm about him. His beard is close cropped and trimmed, and he always looks very put together. I remember when he first got started, the guy couldn’t wear anything but sweatshirts and jeans. Now he’s in a three-piece suit with an expensive watch. It’s almost like that programmer punk from back in the day doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve changed over the years, too. I’m just as driven as I once was, but all my youthful naiveté has been beaten out of me. You don’t get this far in business without learning how the world works and how to master it. That inevitably changes a man. “So, what’s good here?” I ask him. “The martinis.” He grins.

“Can’t. I have work to do.” “I bet. All the more reason.” Mack signals at the waitress and she brings over two drinks, obviously already prepared. I sigh and take mine, thanking her, and take a sip. It’s a good martini, and I can’t help but wonder why Mack is buttering me up. “Okay, Ethan,” he says. “Before you yell at me, just listen.” I raise an eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to yell.” “You have that look.” “What look?” “You know the one.” He smirks at me. “It’s the ‘I’m a disappointed CEO’ look. Doesn’t work on me, but it can be fucking intimidating anyway.” “Didn’t know I had a look,” I say, laughing. “But go ahead. Give me your pitch.” He leans toward me, getting serious all of a sudden. “The pitch is simple. You won’t be disappointed.” I raise an eyebrow. “That’s it?” He nods. “That’s it. If you do this thing, you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m a little disappointed right now. I expected some kind of hard sell.” “I don’t need to,” he says, shrugging. “Truth is, you’re lucky to get invited.” “Lucky?” I give him a look. “I don’t need to pay for pussy, you know.” “Oh, I know that.” He sips his martini and eyes me. “But that’s not what we’re talking about.” I pause, not sure what he means. “The text said an auction,” I say. “It’s an auction and it’s for women, but it’s not just for pussy.” “What else to they do?” I ask. “Clean your house?” “Maybe,” he says, a serious look on his face. “Truth is, man, they’ll do whatever you want. For as long as you’re paying. And these girls, they’re beautiful. Untouched. Unspoiled. They’re not a bunch of old pros. They’re... special.” I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. He’s talking like he’s in love with these girls or something. They’re still just people, just women, and I can’t imagine that they’re anything amazing. I have to admit, I was picturing a bunch of old and used-up hookers, but that’s probably not fair. High-

end escorts tend to be young and beautiful. But he’s making it sound like these are real virgins or something like that. “Have you gone?” I ask him. “Absolutely.” “Why?” I ask, mystified. “You don’t have trouble bringing women home.” “It’s hard to explain,” he says softly. “When you buy these girls... you own them. It’s like every fantasy you’ve ever had all rolled into one, and you get them for as long as you want them.” “I don’t have time to buy anyone,” I say, laughing again, although Mack doesn’t find it funny. “This just isn’t the time.” “This is the perfect time. Whoever you bring home will be there, in your house, waiting for you. If you don’t touch her, that’s your choice, and it won’t matter. This is no work, no fuss, no bullshit. Just an attractive companion that’s down for anything.” I have to admit, he’s making it sound enticing. Maybe it’s the martini, but I do like the idea of a beautiful woman waiting for me to come home, ready to be dominated and willing to do whatever I ask of her.

I finish my martini in one quick motion. “Last question. This Syndicate. Are they dangerous?” He nods once. “They are. But only if you cross them. If you decide not to attend, just delete the message and never speak of this again. Including to me.” “You’re serious?” I ask. “I’m very serious.” “Okay then,” I say. “This is the last time we’ll talk about it.” I slide out of the booth and stand up. “You’re making a mistake,” Mack says. “I’m not so sure that I am.” “You are.” He stares me in the eye. “Go to the auction. Trust me. You won’t regret it.” I watch him for a second. “I’ll see you later, Mack.” He nods and goes back to his martini as I leave the restaurant and head back outside. The driver is still waiting for me, and I climb into the back of the car. For the rest of the day, I can’t stop thinking about what Mack said. He seemed so earnest, so serious, and it’s hard to ignore that sort of thing. Mack isn’t the type of man to bullshit or exaggerate. If he says

something is a certain way, you can be pretty damn sure that it’s a certain way. Which makes it so intriguing. Even more than that, the fact that The Syndicate is dangerous, and how seriously he takes them, makes me even more fascinated. This is a secret world hiding underneath our world, and I’m being given a glimpse. I can choose to turn back and ignore it all, or I can dive in and join it. I don’t know why I can’t get it out of my head. I have been stressed lately, very stressed, and maybe a little meaningless sex will do me good. I could use the release at the very least. Mack makes it sound like a gift from heaven or something like that, and maybe he’s right. It’s around two in the morning by the time I finish my day’s work and break out a bottle of whisky. I pour a drink into a glass and kick my feet up on my desk. There’s a couch against the far wall and my own private bathroom with a shower, and I know I’ll be sleeping on that couch and showering in that shower again tonight. I could go home, but I have to be here at five anyway. No point in wasting time that I could be using on sleep. But I don’t feel like sleeping. I read the message on my phone again and go over the conversation with Mack as I sip my drink. I keep picturing women,

beautiful women, but that’s not all. I keep seeing this one perfect girl in my head. She’s petite, quiet, maybe even a little shy, but sexy as all hell. She’s willing to do anything for me. She’ll let me dominate her, control her, work her body, and she’ll give back as much as she possibly can. And all I have to do is show up and buy her. No work beyond that. No messy flirting or awkward ending. I buy her, we spend our time together, and then it’s over. No attachment and no issues. The idea of paying for sex still seems strange to me, but I can’t help myself. Everything is pushing me toward this moment. I get out my phone and text the number back, agreeing to their terms. I sit there, staring at my phone, not sure what I just did. But most of all, I’m excited at the prospect of entering into something new. I don’t know what will happen next, but I’m trusting Mack. I hope I’m not disappointed.

2

ARIA

I

don’t know what I’m doing here.

I cross my arms nervously, too aware of my own body, almost mortified of the dress I’m wearing. It’s black, dark like my long hair, and makes my blue eyes look even brighter. It’s tight and low cut in the front and back and leaves very, very little to the imagination. That’s the point, of course, but still. All of the other girls around me are wearing similar dresses, except they’re all gorgeous. Dark-skinned girls, lightskinned girls, red hair and blonde hair and everything else. The girls are from everywhere imaginable, and they’re all absolutely beautiful. Except me, of course. I feel too plain to be standing in this room. I’m just a normal waitress, for fuck’s

sake! Sure, I’ve been living with the girls for a couple weeks, but that doesn’t make me like them. I don’t know how I ended up here, in this place. It’s not that bad, honestly. The Syndicate offered me very, very good terms and they treat me very well. They haven’t pushed me into anything and it was my choice to enter into this auction. I still can’t believe it’s come to this, but I’m desperate, so desperate, and I’m willing to do whatever I have to do to survive. I need money, and I need it fast. It’s as simple as that. I have no other choice but to enter into a contract with a strange man. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get paid. The room is actually very nice. It’s like a lounge area, with tables, chairs, and couches all over. It’s richly furnished and there’s a bar toward the back offering free drinks. We were told not to get too drunk, or else we’d be tossed out, and so most of the girls are just nervously sipping their drinks. I can tell most of them are in the same position as me, very uncomfortable and unsure of themselves, but some seem like they’re regulars. I bite my lip and look down at the lovely carpet, not sure what to do with myself. We’re meant to pass time in this room until our name is called. Once we’re called, we go out into the auction room. I

was told that I’m supposed to just stand there and look straight ahead. I won’t even see the men that are bidding on me until it’s all over. So I’ll see the man that buys me for the first time only after I’m sold to him. I can leave at any time. The Syndicate doesn’t keep us here against our will. They made it clear that they don’t want girls that will make trouble, and everyone has been vetted to the highest level possible. My demons almost kept me out of this place, but in the end they decided that they liked me enough to let it slide. I don’t know why, but I’m happy they did. I think. At the end of this, I might walk away with enough money to pay off my debts completely. I can leave at any time, so this could easily be a one-time deal. The girl that recommended me said that I’d end up wanting to do it forever once the money started, but I don’t know about that. “Nervous?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts and look to my side. A gorgeous girl with blonde hair smiles at me. She’s a little taller than me and wears a tight blue bodycon dress. She looks beautiful and for a second, she makes me a little self-conscious.

“Yeah,” I admit. “I can’t help it.” She smiles. “Me too.” “What are you nervous about? You’re gorgeous.” She laughs lightly. “Thanks. But I’ve never done this before.” “Really?” I ask. “I haven’t, either.” “Please. You look way too sexy to be a first timer like me.” “I am,” I say, suddenly relieved that someone is talking to me. Over toward the door, another name is called out, and a tall girl walks out of the room. “I’m Lisa,” my new friend says. “Aria.” “Pretty name.” She looks around the room. “How do you think... this works?” she asks. “What do you mean?” “I mean, what if nobody bids on me?” “Oh,” I say. “I don’t know. I guess you just go home.” “Can it be that simple?” I shrug. “So far, I think so. They’re nice.”

“They are very nice,” she says. “Did you know that only rich men can bid on us?” “I didn’t, actually,” I say, a little surprised. “Yeah, that’s what I heard. This is only for very wealthy men. It’s why we’re treated so well. They don’t want a bunch of abused girls getting involved with these men. We’re supposed to be professionals.” “I don’t feel like a professional,” I admit. “I just feel nervous.” “Yeah,” she says, laughing lightly. “Me too. But we’ll get through this, right?” I nod. “Right. Of course.” Just talking a little bit to Lisa loosens me up a little bit. She smiles at me. “We’ll talk later. Good luck. There’s a glass of wine with my name on it.” “Thanks. You too.” She walks off toward the bar and I watch her go. My mind drifts back to the task at hand and the temporary reprieve from the nervousness is suddenly gone, and it floods back in. But I don’t have long to wallow in it, because a couple minutes after Lisa walks away, the man at the door calls my name.

“Aria!” It pierces through me like an arrow. I freeze, unable to breathe, as I stare at the man. He looks around the room for a second, eyebrow cocked, and I can’t move. I’m petrified. “Aria!” he says again. “You’re up!” I take a step. And then another. And soon I find myself walking quickly toward him. Being careful in my high heels. They make my ass look great but they hurt my feet like crazy. He nods and takes my elbow. “This is easy,” the man says. He’s young, maybe in his thirties, with a long ponytail and a thin face. “I’m going to put you in a room right in the middle. Then a bunch of lights will come on. You stand there and wait. Men will be looking at you, so don’t pick your nose. You’ll be asked to turn, please obey. When it’s done, you’ll be taken into another room where you’ll meet your client. Understand?” “I understand,” I say. “But how long will they get me?” “Let’s see,” he says, looking at his clipboard. “You’re up for... one month.” “One month?” I ask, surprised.

“That’s the minimum amount.” He shrugs. “You’ll do fine.” “One month,” I repeat, shocked. I assumed it was for a few days, maybe a couple weeks. But a whole month? I don’t have a chance to argue, because we step into another room and he takes me into the middle. He places me there. “Good luck,” he says. “They’re watching now.” He turns and leaves. The room is dark, very dark, except for some lights in the floor. I think there are mirrors all around me, but I can’t be sure. I see vague outlines of figures, maybe ten of them. A minute later, a bright light flares on, spotlighting me and blinding me to everything else. I can hear some murmuring, like conversations happening far away, but I can’t understand them. I fold my hands in front of me and wait, trying not to freak out. What the hell am I doing? I don’t know the first thing about being an escort, let alone being one for an entire month. They explained it to me at the beginning, that I’d be bought by a man and that I’d do whatever he wants for however long he gets me. I’d take home seventy percent of the money, which

is generous considering how much we’re sold for, although I’m not really sure exactly how much that is. I assume it’s a lot, but I don’t really know anything. Then, once I’m bought, I service him. Some men want sex, some want companionship, and very rarely men want something in between. I’m to provide whatever he needs. That will be my job for the duration of my stay with him. I’m his property. Unless he hits me, hurts me, or threatens me in any way that makes me uncomfortable. I can text a number that’s basically my SOS with The Syndicate, and they’ll come help me if anything strange happens. There’s another number that I text just saying that I’m okay, and if I don’t contact them at least once a day, they’ll send someone to check on me. In short, I’m safe, and I’m about to be some man’s property. I can hear more talking, but I don’t know what they’re saying. I wish I could hear them. I wish I could see them. What if he’s unattractive? I can fake it, of course. I can handle that. But what if he wants something that I can’t do? It’s possible that I won’t make him happy. I don’t want to fail at this. I have no other options.

“Aria, please turn.” The voice is sudden and startles me. After a second, I turn around. “Spread your legs, please.” I obey, spreading my legs wide. “Thank you. Turn back around and stand naturally, please.” I listen again, turning all the way around and get back into my normal stance. I feel strange. I thought I might feel like a piece of meat, but because I can’t see the men that are bidding on me, I don’t really feel like they’re even out there. But I know they are. This dress, these heels, I never wear this sort of clothing. I’m a simple girl, never had much money. Especially after my demons pushed me into hole after hole and dug me into this pit of bad debt that I find myself in now. The lights drop off as suddenly as they had come on and a side door opens. I blink, trying to get my vision back, and that man with the ponytail is back. “This way,” he says softly, taking my arm. “What happened?” I ask, suddenly panicking. “Did I make a mistake?”

“No,” he says, and I can see that he’s smiling. “Not at all. You did great.” “Really?” “Really. I think you’ll be pleased, actually.” “What do you mean?” “You’ll see.” He leads me down another hallway, past large paintings and statues, and places me into another room. It’s a lounge room, like the one before, but much smaller and without a bar. There’s one table and some couches. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he says. “Your client will be in soon.” “My client?” I ask. “Someone bought me?” “Someone bought you.” “How much did he pay?” The man smiles. “Be patient. He’ll be here soon.” He leaves and I’m left alone. I sit down at the table, heart hammering in my chest. Someone really bought me. I have to admit, I never thought someone really would. Not after seeing all those other beautiful girls in the other room.

They’re the kind of women that I thought men would want, not a plain girl like me. I’m five foot three and nothing special. My dark hair is thick and long, which I think is my best feature, although boyfriends have told me that it’s my ass. I don’t really know about that. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a few years now. I’m twenty-four, didn’t go to college, and wasted the prime years of my life. I tap my nails on the tabletop, nervous as hell, not sure what to expect. Frankly, I’m afraid. The man that comes through the door will be the man that owns me for the next month. What if I hate him? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how I can do this for a whole month. I’m going to be someone’s toy, someone’s property. I’m going to submit to him because I need this money, and this is the best way I could find to get it. I’m freaking out and I know it, but I can’t help myself. It’s overwhelming and so new. I want to get up and run away, get the hell out, but I know what’s waiting for me out in the real world is much worse. I need this. It’s that simple. I can’t run away. As I look up, the door slowly opens. My heart starts to beat erratically out of nerves and I feel like I might faint. And then he steps into the room.

Tall and broad. Bright green eyes. Handsome as hell. He looks muscular under that perfectly tailored suit. He’s young, maybe in his early thirties, and I can’t help but stare at him. This is the man who owns me. I know it deep down inside of me. He smiles at me and shuts the door behind him. This can’t be real. He’s too handsome. He’s way too handsome, and young, and gorgeous, and oh crap, he’s looking at me with this sexy cocky grin that’s driving me insane. “Hello, Aria,” he says, his voice rich and deep. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.” I can only nod, heart hammering in my chest, and I feel like I might pass out at any second.

3

ETHAN

T

he first time I saw Aria, she was standing in the middle of a stage with lights glowing down all around her. She looked perfect. That’s the only way I can describe it. The way she folded her hands in front of her and looked nervously at the ground made me instantly fascinated by her. I didn’t expect to actually bid, and really thought I wasn’t going to, not until I actually hit the button and wrote down a number. The girls before Aria were all beautiful but none of them interested me. I’d seen women like them before, slept with women like them before, and I wasn’t interested in trying them again. They were too confident and too conventionally pretty. Aria

was beautiful as well, but in a different way. Her long, thick hair framed her thin, pale face and made her blue eyes that much brighter. I couldn’t help but stare at her body as they had her spin around. It was totally surreal. I was alone in my own little vestibule with a small computer screen in front of me. I could see the starting bid and I watched as men began to put money down on her. As soon as I saw that other men wanted her, I knew that I had to have her. I couldn’t let some other bastard take her home, not when I couldn’t be sure how they’d treat her. It was a moment of insanity, but I wrote an absurdly high number and submitted it. There was a pause and then my bid was accepted. No other bids came through, and a minute later I won the auction. After Aria left the stage, I was escorted out of my room by the same young woman that brought me in there. She took me down a series of hallways and left me outside of a room, saying that Aria is in there and that I can go in any time. She handed me a sheaf of papers with the winning bid amount on it and what appeared to be a contract. Then she left, and that’s how I find myself standing outside of this room, my heart pounding. I can’t believe how nervous I am to meet her. I’ve

met thousands of beautiful women in my life and slept with a fair number of them, too. But I’ve never felt this nervous before. It’s absurd. I own her. I bought this beautiful girl to keep for a month. I have responsibilities that were all described to me beforehand, like making sure she’s fed and clothed and made comfortable. She has to be able to contact her people once a day, or else they’ll come looking for her. And they physically check on her a few times as well, to make sure she’s not being abused. If I break terms, there will be consequences, though they didn’t say what kind of consequences. I don’t plan on hurting her. I don’t know what I really plan on doing with her, to be totally honest. I don’t want to fuck some girl that I bought and who has to do what I want. That’s not fun, not at all. As I stand there, it suddenly occurs to me what I have to do. If I’m going to sleep with her, she has to want it. I can’t just take her because I paid for her. There’s no fun in that, and it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable just thinking about it. I know what I need to do. I have to seduce her. I have to make her want to do it.

That’s going to be hard. She’s an escort and it’s not likely that she genuinely wants to fuck her clients. She’s doing all of this for money, and I have to convince her to do it for sheer pleasure. I have a month to pull it off. Maybe I’ll even get some companionship out of this deal if she is never seduced. It’ll be hard to know when she truly wants it, since it’s her job to make me feel like she does, but I’m a good judge of character. It’s how I got so far in business. I can read people and understand what they really want from life. I know how to give it to them and how to take it away. I have to assume that I’ll be able to see through her bullshit and truly understand when she wants me and when she’s just putting on a performance for the man that bought her. I can feel my nervousness slowly recede as I begin to plan how I’m going to do this. I feel good having an idea and there’s an excitement coursing through me, beneath all the uncertainty. I haven’t felt excited in months, not since work got insanely busy. But now I feel it, deep down in my core, and I can’t wait to see what I can do with this woman. With my new toy, my Aria. I take a deep breath then open the door. I shut it softly behind me before facing her, a grin spreading

out across my face. She’s gorgeous. Way more fucking gorgeous in person. She looks about as nervous as I felt standing outside, which makes me feel so much more comfortable. She’s smaller than I expected, too, which I really like. I like that I am physically dominant and larger than she is. I love her small, perky breasts and her hips and her thick ass, her body is perfect. And I love the look on her face. This is the first time she’s actually seeing me. I bet she expected some old, fat rich guy with no hair and halitosis. Instead, she’s getting me, and I can tell she already likes it. “Hello, Aria,” I say. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.” She nods, her eyes wide. She looks like she might pass out, so I pour her a glass of water from the side table and place it in front of her. She takes a few sips before putting it back down. “Thank you,” she says. I put out my hand and she places hers in mine. We shake softly. “Good to meet you,” I say. “You too,” she answers, looking away.

I sit down across from her and place the contract down on the table between us. There are pens in a small holder at the edge of the table and I can’t help but smile to myself. These people are professionals. “Are you nervous, Aria?” I ask her, knowing the answer. “Yes,” she admits. I find that endearing. “Why?” “I’ve never done this before.” I raise an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Never?” “Never,” she confirms. “I’ve never been an... escort before.” Interesting. I lean back in my chair and watch her, studying her. She does look more nervous than I expected and she’s having a hard time making eye contact, probably from her nervousness. Finally, I get her to look at me, and she smiles. “What?” she asks. “Just looking at you. You’re not what I expected.” “What did you expect?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “This is my first time,

too.” “Really?” She sits up. “You’ve never bought an, uh, escort before?” “Never,” I say. “You’re my first.” “Well then. I’m glad we can do this for the first time together, then.” “Me too,” I say. She smiles and I can’t help but feel warm toward her. “What’s this?” she asks, taking the contract. “I’m not totally sure. I think we’re supposed to sign it.” She starts reading over it and I study her as she does it. Her eyes narrow a bit and she subvocalizes ever so slightly. That suggests to me that she needs glasses normally, and they probably wouldn’t let her wear them. I make a note of that for the future. She looks up at me and smiles, blushing. “You’re watching me,” she says. “Sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?” “No, I mean, this is just weird.” I laugh. “Very weird,” I agree. “Did you read this yet?”

“Not yet. I glanced at it in the hallway. Most of it seems like pretty standard legal stuff, NDA and the like.” “NDA?” “Non-disclosure agreement. I use them a lot.” “What do you do?” she asks, cocking her head. “I founded World Line. Have you heard of it?” She perks up again. “I know that company. You guys manufacture a bunch of stuff. Lots of medical equipment.” “That’s right. I’m surprised you know that.” “I wanted to be a doctor for a long time.” “What happened?” I ask, and regret it immediately. She looks down at the contract. “Life,” she says, and I feel like an asshole. She goes back to reading, the moment lost between us. What a stupid question to ask. I know she’s clearly not a doctor, though I can’t help but wonder why she’s doing this. From what I can tell, she’s normal, though very attractive and intelligent. I don’t know her at all though, and people have their reasons. It’s just another mystery I’ll have to unravel. I want to get to know the real girl sitting across from me, not

just the girl she’s going to pretend to be. I don’t want her to be some slave that makes me happy. I want to own her completely, not just because I’ve spent money on her. It’s a dangerous feeling, but I can’t help myself. She finally makes it through the contract and signs her name at the end before spinning it around toward me. “Thanks,” I say. “You’re welcome.” She watches me as I start reading. I glance up twice before smiling at her. “Your turn to watch me?” I ask. “Exactly.” I can’t help but grin and she smiles back. “I’ve tasted my own medicine and it is bitter.” She laughs. “A friend of mine used to say that a long time ago.” “It’s a good one.” I flick the pen, twirling it around my fingers, an absent-minded gesture. “Go ahead and watch if you want. We might as well get comfortable with each other.” “Good point,” she says, and puts her chin in her hands. “Don’t be shy, Ethan. I’ll just sit here

quietly, judging and such.” I laugh and shake my head. She’s clever and funny once you get past her nervousness. I go back to the contract and begin to read. The Syndicate Herein, Ethan Locks (“The Client”) and Aria Taylor (“The Seller”) enter into a legally and emotionally binding contract with The Syndicate. Breaking of any stipulation, in spirit or in letter, results in a voiding of this contract. Consequences will be swift and merciless. Nothing protects a bastard, a cheat, or a thief. The Client agrees to provide all basic needs to The Seller for the duration of the contract, here listed as One Month. The Client agrees not to harm The Seller without her consent. The Client agrees to allow The Seller to contact The Syndicate at least once a day, and The Client will submit to all inspections by The Syndicate. The Seller agrees to obey The Client unless it risks her safety. The Seller agrees to do everything in her power to satisfy The Client. This includes but it not limited to sexual favors, housework, emotional comforts, public displays, gifts, and so on. The Seller is owned by The Client and is bound to do

her duty. The contract goes on from there, dropping into ever more legalistic jargon, but that opening is fascinating. It’s unlike any contract I’ve ever seen, and the bit about thieves and retribution is fascinating. The Syndicate is obviously a serious and professional group just based on their facilities, but this contract hints at something much more. I skim the rest of it. Everything seems standard, laying out NDA clauses, liability clauses, and finally payment. The amount I bid on her is listed there at the bottom. I smile and turn the page toward her. “Did you see this?” I ask. Aria glances down and looks back up at me. “I did,” she admits. “How does that make you feel?” She pauses for a second, clearly searching for words. Finally, she says, “I’m not worth that much money.” I stare, surprised. I didn’t expect that response, but it hints at something much deeper to her. “You’re worth more than two million,” I say. “Maybe,” she says, looking away.

I watch her for a moment then turn the contract back to me. I flip to the last page and sign it, not needing to read the rest of it. That moment sealed it for me. I have to have this girl. I need her. I want her more than I could ever have imagined. Not just because I’m paying two million dollars for her, but because she fascinates me. The money is nothing. But her submission, her obedience, her genuine seduction... that’s worth it all. Once the pages are signed, the door suddenly opens and the young woman steps inside. “Are you all ready, Mr. Locks?” she asks. “I am,” I say, standing. “Good. Please, bring that contract and follow me.” I look at Aria and she smiles at me. “See you later,” I say. “Yeah. See you.” I smirk at her for a second longer then turn and follow the woman out of the room. My heart is hammering and I don’t know what’s going to happen from here. I just signed that insane contract and now it’s official. I’m going to pay these people then take Aria home with me.

I own her. She’s mine. I bought her for an absurd sum of money and I get to do whatever I wish with her for one month. And I wish to seduce her until she’s begging for me, genuinely begging for me, out of her mind with desire.

4

ARIA

I

feel better as soon as I get a chance to change into normal clothes.

Meeting Ethan for the first time made me feel things I never expected. He wasn’t at all what I assumed he’d be. He’s interesting, attractive, smart, and funny. He made me feel comfortable, despite that one tiny blip in the conversation. I actually found myself wanting to be around him, and not just because I’m getting paid. I still can’t believe how much he spent. If I make it through this and everything goes as it should, I’ll walk away with over one million dollars. I won’t ever have to do anything like this again. I’ll pay off my debts, find a new apartment, find a new job, or maybe even go back to school. I’ll have options

again. I’ll be free. But only if I get through this. As soon as Ethan leaves, ponytail comes back and takes me into the back rooms again. He instructs me to get changed, which I do, and he brings my bags. Once I’m in street clothes, and feeling much more comfortable, I carry my two bags full of all my earthly possessions out through a back door and into a big black sedan. Ethan is sitting in the other seat, waiting for me. Once ponytail closes the door, I realize that I’m really doing this. I’m really going home with this man. “Welcome,” he says. “Ready?” I nod. “I’m ready.” “It’s not a far drive. I live downtown.” “Really?” He nods as the driver pulls out. We head down Broad toward the center of the city. “It’s an old house. Well, six old houses. I bought them up and renovated them a few years ago.” “You live in... six houses?” I can’t help but laugh. “I know, it’s absurd. Too much space for just me.

Truth is, I spend a lot of time in the office.” “Good thing I’m coming to stay with you,” I say, smiling. “Someone will finally give your house some use.” “That’s one benefit,” he says, grinning back. “Truth is, I have a full staff back at the house. They keep it all running without me. Plus, there’s Jenkins, and he lives there full time.” “Jenkins?” I ask. Ethan looks a little bashful, which is incredibly endearing on him. “Jenkins is my butler.” I laugh out loud, shaking my head. “You’re kidding?” “I’m not kidding,” he says, laughing along with me. “I really have a live-in butler named Jenkins.” “That’s the most cliché rich person thing I’ve ever heard.” “I know.” He grins and leans back in his seat. “It’s all status stuff. I don’t need Jenkins, but he does make my life easier.” “How so?” “Simple stuff,” he says. “Jenkins runs the household. Pays the bills, manages the staff, makes

sure food is ready when I’m there, makes sure nothing is wasted. You’ll meet him soon.” I suddenly feel very, very nervous. We drive into a more residential area of town, one of the richest neighborhoods in the city. I’ve been here before, of course, but only while walking through. I live in the south part of the city, or at least I used to. Now I’m homeless, but I probably won’t tell him that. Nobody wants some homeless, ex-addict girl living in their house. I need to keep some things secret from Ethan, because otherwise I’m afraid he won’t like the truth. The car pulls up out front of a large beautiful building. It looks like an old brick row home, but it’s much wider, with many windows. It’s immaculately kept, which I assume is the work of Jenkins. “Home sweet home,” Ethan says, getting out of the car. He comes around and helps me out, even carrying my bags. He waves off the driver, tips him, and sends him off. The car speeds away and we walk up the stoop. Ethan hits a button on the buzzer, pauses a second, and then another buzzer sounds. He pushes open the door and we step inside.

The entryway is beautiful. The floor is all hardwood, gleaming and immaculate. Modern art is hanging on the walls. There’s a stairwell to the right, a door to the left, and a French door to the right, next to the stairs. Ethan walks straight ahead and I hurry to follow him. I gape at everything we come across. The hall opens up into a large open space that’s obviously at least two townhouses wide. There’s an immaculately furnished living room area with a ceiling that goes up at least two stories. Back into the other townhouse, to the left is a large modern kitchen with beautiful appliances. I can’t help but stare all around me. I’ve never seen anything so nice in my whole life. I knew he was rich, or at least I knew it on some abstract level. But now that I’m seeing his actual objects and the house he lives in, I can really appreciate it. The place looks like a museum or a high-end hotel or something. It’s absolutely spotless and nothing is out of place. As we move into the kitchen and Ethan tosses his wallet and keys onto the counter, a door off to one side opens and a man steps out. “Jenkins,” Ethan says, smiling. “We have a guest.” “Do we, sir?”

Jenkins is an older man, short and thin, maybe in his sixties. His white hair is slicked back but his crystal clear blue eyes are sharp and intelligent. He looks at me appraising, but he doesn’t smile. “Nice to meet you,” I say to him. “Charmed,” he responds without looking at me. “This is Aria. She’s going to be staying with us for the next month.” Jenkins pauses and I catch the slightest surprise on his face. “A month, sir?” “Yes, Jenkins,” Ethan says. “Please prepare the second room for her.” His surprise is even more evident. “The second room, sir?” “Am I speaking clearly?” Ethan looks at me, smiling. I just shrug, feeling too awkward to respond. He sighs and looks back at Jenkins. “Don’t give me a hard time, please.” “Of course not, sir.” He turns to leave. “And be nice to Aria, damnit!” he calls out as Jenkins disappears.

“He doesn’t like me,” I say. “He’s just an old curmudgeon. Doesn’t like change.” I smile at that. “You have a butler.” “I have a butler.” “A cranky, old butler.” “It’s a regular British estate.” He grins at me. “Want a tour?” “Of course I do.” “Well, right this way, miss.” He offers his arm and I take it with a laugh. The whole house is actually six townhouses in one, three on the front block and three on the back. There are ten bedrooms and fifteen bathrooms plus a gym, an indoor pool, a large entertainment room, a small theater, and more. Ethan almost seems embarrassed as he walks me through the place, like the extravagance is too much. Truthfully, it almost is too much. There’s more money in this house than I’ll ever see in a lifetime, or at least that was the case before I landed this job. I know people that live on less per year than he has invested in end tables.

It’s mind-boggling. The comfort, the wealth, the power, I just can barely understand it all. I’m exhausted and it’s late at night, probably around two in the morning, and I feel like I’m running on fumes. We finish back up in the main living room. “So, what do you think?” he asks. “It’s... big,” I say. He laughs. “I know. It’s absurd.” “Do you use it all?” “Hardly,” he admits. “I’m barely even here to be honest. I have guests staying here all the time and the place is mostly for them.” “So you live in a hotel.” He laughs, pouring himself a drink. “Pretty much.” He gestures at the bottle of whisky. “Want one?” “Sure,” I say, although I don’t like whisky. He pours and hands me the glass. I accept it and sip it. He laughs at the face I make. “You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want it,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’m not much of a whisky drinker.” “Don’t worry about it.” He takes the glass from me

and pours it into his, making it a double. “I guess I’m not sure how to act in this situation.” “I know. Strange, right?” He shrugs, sipping his whisky. “Just be yourself. What do you like to drink, anyway?” “Wine,” I say. “Anything white.” “Perfect. I have two thousand bottles.” “Seriously?” He laughs. “Seriously. Like I said, it’s a hotel.” He walks to the refrigerator, opens a small drawer toward the bottom, and pulls out a white. He opens the bottle, pours me a drink, and hands me the glass. “Cheers,” he says. He clinks and sips. I look around the room, wondering how the hell I found myself in this situation. I don’t belong here. Jenkins must have seen through me the second I walked through that door. He knows that I’m trash, that I don’t belong in a place like this with a man like Ethan. Worse, maybe Jenkins knows what I am. That I’m a hooker for Ethan. That he bought and paid for me and now I’m contractually obligated to do whatever Ethan wants.

Not that I really mind, to be truthful. I would have gone home with Ethan for free if he wanted me. But with the money involved, things are different. I know I need to please him, but I’m not sure how to go about doing that. “Come on,” he says finally. “Let’s go to your room. It’ll be ready by now.” I reach down and grab my bag but he waves me off. “Jenkins will bring that up. Come on.” I frown, leaving the bag, and follow him. We go back upstairs, but instead of moving down the guest wing like last time, he leads me to the right and down a short hallway. “So, this is my private wing,” he says. “The door at the far end is my room. And this is yours.” He stops in front of a door with the number two on the front. “The second room,” I say, smiling. “Very clever.” He shrugs, grinning. “Easier this way.” He opens the door and we step into the room. It’s gorgeous. There’s a bathroom on the left as we walk inside. In the center of the room is a large four-poster bed. There’s a small fireplace with a fire burning in it, a television with a couch in front of it, a small table, and another room toward the back.

“Bed, bathroom, living room, and there’s an exercise room off the back,” he says. “Balcony too, if you want to use it.” “You really do live in a hotel,” I say, laughing. “But the nicest hotel I’ve ever seen.” He grins. “Glad you like it. You’ll be in here for your stay.” He walks over to the dresser and picks up a phone. “Use this to call down to the kitchen. There’s someone on staff twenty-four seven, so if you’re ever hungry, just call and ask. You can also request laundry service or cleaning if you want. Really, call and ask for whatever and Jenkins will make it happen.” “Are you sure?” I ask. “I bet he’ll conveniently forget my requests.” “Probably,” Ethan says, grinning. I walk over to the bed and run my hand down the comforter. It’s beautiful and soft, the sort of bed I’ve always dreamed about as a little girl. “This is too much,” I say finally. “Really, Ethan. I can stay in something simpler.” “I’m contractually obligated to provide you with all of this,” he says, and walks over to me. “Besides, I want to spoil you.”

I turn toward him, my heart beating fast, and I take a sip of my wine to cover my embarrassment. “It’s why you’re here,” he says to me, stopping close. “I want to spoil you rotten, Aria. I want to give you things. But most of all, I want to make you feel things you never expected.” “Like what?” I ask, a little breathless. He steps close to me, his body inches from mine. His hand rests on the small of my back as his lips come closer to mine. I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he veers to the side, stopping next to my ear. “If you have to ask, you’re not ready to hear the answer,” he says softly, and I feel a chill run down my spine. He pulls back, giving me this devilish smile, and I want him to come back. I want him to tell me what he’s going to make me feel. I’m flushed and excited, and I can feel my pussy is already tingling and dripping wet. It’s crazy that I feel this way. It’s supposed to be just a job, but Ethan isn’t work. He’s charming and gorgeous. “Good night,” he says, turning away. “Wait,” I say. “Don’t you...?”

“What?” he asks, cocking his head. I looked away, frowning. “Nothing.” He walks toward the door and I watch him go, wishing he’d stay. As he opens it, he pauses and turns back to me. “Oh sorry, I do have one rule for you. Stay in this room. If you want to leave it, you have to get permission from me. Understood?” “Okay,” I say, nodding. “I won’t keep you prisoner, of course. And if you want books, magazines, movies, a computer, anything, just ask. But don’t leave without permission.” I nod. “Thanks,” I say. “Sleep tight, Aria.” He leaves the room before I can respond. I down my wine, place the glass on a side table, and then collapse onto the enormous bed. I burrow down into the covers, put my face in the beautiful and immaculate pillow, and I scream. I can’t believe that I’m here. I laugh and scream into the pillow and laugh some more, completely overwhelmed with my situation. Once I get that out

of my system, I quickly explore the room. The gym in the back is pretty nice with a treadmill, a little TV, some weights, and a bench press. The balcony overlooks the city and I realize that I’m on the third floor. The view is incredible. I step back inside and notice that my bags were discreetly delivered while I was outside on the balcony. I walk over to them and begin to unpack, frowning at my meager possessions. I don’t know what I want or what I’m going to do, but I have to try and enjoy this. Ethan could still be some kind of serial killer or something like that, but I doubt it. I think the real problem is, I can’t believe that I’m in this place and with this man, and I don’t think I deserve any of it. But if I get through it, I’ll make over a million dollars. If I live frugally and am smart, I can be set for life. I can afford to go to nursing school, or even go all the way back and start at the beginning to become a doctor. Anything is possible after this. I just need to figure out Ethan and give him what he likes. Because there was one clause in that contract that’s been bothering me since I signed. One very important clause.

If I don’t please him, The Syndicate won’t pay me. Ethan gets a partial refund. But The Syndicate won’t give me a dime. Even if there are still hundreds of thousands, I won’t see a dime if I don’t please him. I climb into bed, trying to figure him out. I need to start being better at this and fast. So far, I’ve been myself, which is dorky and clumsy and stupid. I need to up my game and work on him. But for now, I’ll just enjoy this the best I can. In the morning, I’ll see what I can do.

5

ETHAN

I

finish cooking the eggs and plate them on the large platter. My cook, Michelle, looks on from the counter, smiling and sipping her coffee. “This is a first,” she says as I finish up. “You cooking and me watching.” “You’re enjoying this too much,” I say. She shrugs. Michelle is in her fifties, rotund and possibly my favorite person in the world. She’s been working for me ever since I started making serious money, about two years before Jenkins came. I don’t know how I could manage my life without her. It’s very rare that I want to actually cook for myself, but when I do she’s always around for a chat and some tips. I haven’t cooked anything

in a couple years, though. I’ve been too busy. Today feels different, though. It’s around six in the morning and I know Aria is probably asleep, so I want to surprise her. I’m not sure why. I just want to spoil her. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you cook, that’s all,” she says. “Cooking is good for you. Good for the spirit.” “Of course you’d say that,” I respond, grinning. “Look at you. You’re practically glowing.” She leans toward me over the counter. “I assume this is all for her.” She gives me a knowing look. “Gossip moves fast, I see,” I say, frowning. “What can I say, Ethan. You brought a woman home.” “So? I bring women home all the time.” “But they don’t stay until the next morning. And they definitely don’t get the second best room in the house.” I sigh, not wanting to engage in this, but I do need to say something. Aria is going to be in the house for the next month and the staff is going to be curious.

I trust all of them. They’ve had opportunities to spread gossip in the past, but they never have. The ones that were more loose-lipped were fired a long time ago, and things are in a very good place right now. But still, I need to tell them something. “Her name is Aria,” I say. “And she’s going to be staying here for a month.” Michelle looks surprised, her eyebrows raised in little arches. “A month?” “One month. The staff is to treat her as if she owns the place. Any request will be granted. Understood?” She nods, a bewildered smile on her face. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” I sigh. “Just be good to her, okay?” She nods, face softening. “I’ll make sure she feels welcome.” “Thank you.” I put a cup of coffee on the tray and heft it up in my arms. I carry it over to a little cart, put it down, and head over to the elevator. I hear Michelle getting started on the dishes, which makes me smile. There are some nice perks to being rich. I get into the service elevator and ride it up to the third floor. I feel like a bellhop as I wheel the cart

down my own hallway, stopping outside of Aria’s door. I knock softly then open the door. I wheel the cart inside and shut the door behind me. Aria is sitting up in bed, sheets wrapped around her, and I stop for a second, taken by her. The night before she was all done up for the auction and was absolutely gorgeous, but this morning she looks simply like herself. Her hair is a bit messy and she’s not wearing any makeup. And she’s beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. She smiles slightly which makes my heart race as I wheel the food into the main room, stopping next to her bed. “Good morning,” she says. “Morning.” I gesture at the tray. “Breakfast in bed.” Her smile gets bigger. “Is this going to be a normal thing?” I shrug and cross my arms. “It can be, if you want.” She looks at me strangely. “I don’t understand this.” “What’s confusing about breakfast?” “I mean...” She trails off. “All of this.” She gestures at the room. “Why give me this?”

I smile at her and sit on the edge of the bed. I reach out and gently run my fingers through her hair. She watches me with her gorgeous wide eyes. “I told you,” I say softly. “I want to spoil you.” “I don’t mind being spoiled.” She smiles. “I’m going to keep you in here. In this room. And I’m going to spoil you as much as I can.” “If that’s what you want,” she says softly, watching me. “You’re my pet now, Aria,” I say. “I’m going to keep you in this little cage and use you however I want.” “Okay,” she says, practically a whisper. I can feel excitement coursing through my body and as I look at her, I wonder if she feels the same thing. Her face looks excited. I can see a slight flush in her cheeks and her breath comes quickly. But I don’t know if that’s because she wants me as much as I want her, or if it’s because she’s just good at what she does. “Are you hungry?” I ask. “It smells really good,” she says. “I made it myself, actually.”

“Really?” She laughs lightly and takes the mug of coffee from the tray. “A rich man that cooks and looks good in the morning.” I laugh and take the second mug, sipping the coffee. “I do what I can.” “I could get used to it.” “Good. That’s what I want.” I nod at the food. “Go ahead and eat.” She reaches out and takes a piece of toast, biting down into it. She chews for a second and seems to realize that she’s actually hungry as she reaches out for a fork. “I have to go to work soon,” I say. “You’ll be stuck in this room all day.” “That’s okay,” she says. “It’s a big room.” She eats some eggs and smiles huge. “This is really good.” “Butter,” I say. “And a little whole milk.” She laughs. “You really are spoiling me.” “Only way to make eggs.” I grin at her. “Like I said last night, you can have whatever you want. But you still have to get permission to leave this room from me directly. Understand?” “Okay,” she says. “That’s fine.”

“Good.” I watch her eat for a moment, trying to see past her exterior. I can’t tell if she’s enjoying it or if she’s eating just to please me. That’s going to be the problem. I’m going to have to be on my game when it comes to her if I want to really see past her acting. She’s meant to do everything she can to please me, which means she’s going to suppress her own desires to do what I want. To an extent, I expect that. I expect her to obey my rules. But I don’t want her to simply do what she thinks I want her to do. I need her to want this. That brings me more pleasure than she could possibly know. I stand up and she watches me as I move across the room. “Have a good day, my pet,” I say to her. I watch her reaction to the little nickname, and smile with satisfaction. She clearly doesn’t like it. “Have a good day,” she says. I cock my head at her, grinning, but decide not to say anything. I turn and head back out into the hallway, smiling to myself. She’s already acting, but I can see through some of

it. I’m going to figure her out and soon I’ll give her exactly what she wants. She won’t be able to resist showing herself to me. Only when she’s completely stripped bare in front of me will I finally give her what she really needs. I grin to myself and can’t think about anything else on the entire trip into the office.

6

ARIA

I

lean back against the headboard as soon as Ethan leaves the room, ignoring the food beside me. It’s not that I don’t like breakfast, I just don’t normally eat much in the morning. I finish the toast and coffee at least before wheeling the cart back out into the hallway. I’m careful not to actually leave the room as I push it outside. Once that’s done, I go into the bathroom and start the shower. It’s a gorgeous bathroom with a full vanity, whirlpool tub, and huge shower. Everything is tiled in beautiful mosaic patterns, and part of me feels like the toilet itself should be solid gold. It’s not, of course, and I get into the shower to wash myself. I feel like I’m cleaning days’ worth of

grime from my body even though I showered the night before, just as the auction was about to begin. Showers can be hard for me sometimes. It feels good, but it’s strange. I can still remember waking up in a shower, half naked, my body bruised and battered and wondering where the hell I am. That was one of the lowest points in my life when I realized what I did just to score some drugs. It was when I was lying on the floor of that shower, half conscious of what had happened, that I realized I was at rock bottom. It was the lowest point of my life. And I can’t help but think about it every time I get in the shower. I’m disgusted by the person I was. I’ve been clean for two years and have no plan to go back, but I still feel that stupid junky deep inside of me, begging to get out. I made mistakes. I’ve been weak and frail and stupid before. But I pulled myself up off that shower floor, got the fuck out of that house, and checked myself into a rehab treatment facility. Six months in there and I never looked back. I still owe them, which is actually just one small part of my debt, but it’s one debt that I won’t mind paying off. They saved me there, saved my life, showed me that a life without drugs is the life I want to

lead. I shut off the shower and get out, toweling myself off. I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how I got from the bottom of that shower to this place. I run my fingers over the marble countertop and although I know that I’m just this man’s plaything, I can’t help but imagine that I’m something more. I can’t let myself indulge in that, though. Ethan doesn’t care about me. He just wants to play a game. He wants me to be his pet and to stay in this room. Sure, he’s spoiling me, but it’s still his game that I have to play. He doesn’t want Aria, he doesn’t want the real me. He would turn and run the second he found out about me. But maybe I can pretend, at least for a little while. I’ll have to pretend harder than I have been so far. I need this to go well. Once I’m dry enough, I wrap a towel around me and head back out into the main room. I look around for my bags, but I don’t find them anywhere. Instead, the drawers have clothes already in them, but they’re not my clothes. There are bras, panties, and some tops and bottoms. In the closet, several dresses hang, and it all looks to be in my size. For a second I panic, afraid that he took away my phone

and my things. If I don’t have my phone, I can’t contact The Syndicate, and that would be bad. But tucked in the back corner of the closet are my bags. I breathe a sigh of relief as I fish out my phone and shoot a text to the number they gave me, just letting them know that I’m fine and taken care of. When that’s done, I go back into the main room and get dressed. I put on a matching bra and panty set, looking at myself in the mirror. I want to be pleasing to him, so I pick out a cute, revealing top and short little jean shorts. Once dressed, I stand there and look at the room. The clock next to the bed says that it’s eight in the morning, and I realize that I have all day to kill. I get my laptop from my bag, but there’s no open WiFi. Nervously, I grab the phone and hit zero before listening to it ring. “Yes?” It’s Jenkins’s voice from the night before. “Uh, hi, it’s Aria,” I say. “Yes?” he asks again. “I, uh, was wondering if there was a WiFi password?” I ask. “No internet,” he says.

I pause. “No internet?” I repeat. “I was instructed to keep you off the internet.” I frown, disappointed. What the hell am I supposed to do all day then? “Okay,” I say. “Thank you. Are there any books you could bring up?” “Of course,” he says. “Will that be all?” “Uh, yes. Thank you.” The phone disconnects and I flop back onto the bed. “No internet,” I groan to myself and roll over onto my side. Jenkins brings up a box full of books not too long later, but he doesn’t stick around. He simply places the box outside of my door, knocks twice, and then leaves. I pull the box inside and start fishing through it. They’re mostly trashy romances, but that’s good enough. I spend most of the day reading. It’s boring and slow, but it’s all I have to do. Eventually I figure out how to work the television, so I switch from reading to watching TV and back again all day long. Jenkins brings me lunch and dinner, but that’s the only human contact I get all day.

The food is good, so at least there’s that. After dinner, around eight that night, I start getting really antsy. I haven’t heard from Ethan all day. I know he’s a busy man and probably works late, but still, I thought maybe I’d see him more. He hasn’t even touched me yet, although it hasn’t been a full day. Maybe he’s just easing himself into it, working up to it. Maybe he just likes a little suspense. I don’t feel suspenseful. I just feel bored. Eventually, midnight rolls around, and I’m exhausted. I turn off the television and toss my book aside before changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. I stare up at the ceiling, disappointed. I thought that being an escort was going to be more exciting than this. So far, it’s more like a boring vacation. I want to make Ethan happy, not just sit around in this room alone and read books. Then again, this is what he told me to do. He wants me to stay in this room and only leave with his permission. If that makes him happy, knowing that I’m safe in here, well, then I guess it’s what I have to do. Still, I’m disappointed. I want to see him again.

Maybe that’s silly, but I want to see his cocky smile and his handsome face. I want to see the muscles under his perfectly fitting suit. I want him to take me, let me please him in the way that I know I’m supposed to. Instead, I’m stuck in here. His little pet. I frown at the nickname. I don’t really like it, but I don’t really hate it, either. It just makes me feel strange. My heart beats fast and part of me likes the idea of being a pretty thing sitting in a cage for him, though the other part of me doesn’t want to be kept. As I start to drift off to sleep, the phone starts to ring. It’s sudden and it pulls me from sleep with a start. I crawl over to the side and pull it off the receiver on the third ring. “Hello?” I answer, glancing at the clock. It’s around one in the morning. “Hello, pet,” he says. I smile despite myself. “I was wondering if I’d hear from you.” “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you today.” “That’s okay.” “How are you liking your stay so far?”

“Good,” I say. “The food is amazing.” “You can thank Michelle for that, my cook. You’ll meet her soon.” “I look forward to it.” I hold the receiver between my ear and my shoulder, twirling the cord between my fingers. “I’m stuck at work, but I’m thinking about you,” he says softly. “What are you wearing right now?” I smile to myself. “Black bra and matching panties,” I say, which is true. Though I’m also wearing a white t-shirt and soft jogging pants. “That’s all?” he asks. “I doubt you sleep in just that.” “Who says I’m sleeping?” I ask, suddenly getting an idea. “It’s late,” he says. “I was up thinking of you,” I answer. He pauses. “What were you thinking?” he asks. “I was thinking about your hands on my body,” I say. “I’m your pet, but you haven’t even stroked me yet,” I say. Another pause. “And you want me to stroke you?”

he asks. “Yes,” I whisper. “As soon as you’re home. I’m so bored without you.” “I’m sure you are.” He pauses again and I can feel my heart hammering in my chest. “I’ll see you soon, pet. Sleep tight.” He hangs up suddenly and I’m left staring at the phone, not sure what just happened. I tried to be sexy for him and he just hangs up on me. Like he wasn’t interested in it at all. I hang the phone up and collapse back into bed, sighing. Maybe I suck at this. If I can’t figure out what he wants and soon, I’m going to screw it all up, and I can’t afford that. This is my last attempt. It’s all or nothing for me right now, and I can’t give up. One bad phone call won’t change anything. I’m going to make this man happy whether he wants me to or not.

7

ETHAN

I

have to force myself to go to my last meeting, even though it’s one of the most important meetings of the day.

All I want to do is go home to Aria. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning. I slept in my office again last night and because of some stupid emergency, I couldn’t make it home all day. I called her briefly last night, and again this afternoon, but that was it. She sounds bored. I have to admit, I figured it might take a little longer for her to get sick of her little vacation. Maybe I’ll have to punish her for letting me know that she’s bored. Then again, I want her to be herself, so that can’t fly. I’ll punish her still, but it’ll have to be for some

other reason. I smile to myself, imagining how I’ll punish her as I walk into the restaurant. This last meeting is with Richard Taylor, one of the most notorious businessmen in the city. He’s a real estate guy, and I want to buy out one of his buildings to use as my new corporate headquarters once all this merger stuff goes through. But he’s hard to work with and has an awful reputation for being involved with some shady ventures. I spot Richard sitting in a booth table toward the back. I walk directly toward him. It’s interesting how being a good businessperson very often means you’re a bad regular person. The sort of thing business demands from you usually means you’re a hard person to be around in normal circumstances. Richard Taylor is no exception to this rule. As I approach, he frowns and checks his watch, almost as if I’m late. I’m not, of course, but he’ll make me feel like I am just because he showed up early. “Ethan,” he says, standing, and we shake hands. “Richard. Good to see you.” “You too. Sit down, have a drink.” “Nothing for me tonight,” I say, waving off the waitress as she approaches. “I have to get home.”

He laughs at me. “You go home? I feel like I haven’t been home in days.” “Which is exactly why I’m making it a point to sleep in my own bed tonight,” I say, smiling at him. He nods and for a second, I wonder if my little theory about businessmen extends to myself. Am I just as bad as Richard is? I like to think I’m not. My employees respect me, maybe even like me. I’m generous with benefits and raises and I never yell. I pride myself on being a good boss, because I absolutely hate bad bosses. But I’m still at the top of my game, and my personal life definitely suffers for it. I can see myself in men like Richard, or at least part of myself. Still, I’m not like him, and won’t let myself become like him. I have my pet at home to help keep me sane. “Well then, down to business so you can get home,” he says, and I know it’s a backhanded insult. I choose to ignore it. Instead, I take out a contract we’ve been discussing and we dive back in, talking about the intricacies of the deal. Richard is a hard negotiator, but I know he needs to

sell. He took the recession hard a few years ago, and some of his assets are currently losing him a lot of money. This building happens to be one of those assets. I have the capital and the ability to turn it back into a worthwhile place, but Richard has to meet me in the middle first. He’s playing hardball, though. He doesn’t want to budge an inch on any of his demands, especially not on price, and every concession I get comes at the cost of two more concessions from my side. It’s infuriating and exhausting to keep arguing about petty details, but that’s what Richard seems to want to do. We go at it for an hour before I’m finally finished for the night. Richard is on his second martini when I lean back, shaking my head. “Let’s stop here for the night,” I say to him. “Are you sure?” he asks, grinning. “I feel like we’re just making progress.” “We’ll resume tomorrow,” I say, though I want to punch him in the face. “Sure, fine. Whatever you want,” he says. “Make a meeting with my secretary.” I know that means I probably won’t see him for another week. Richard tosses some bills on the

table, clearly overpaying for his drinks but doing it to show off. I don’t really understand that, since we both know I’m worth more than he is, but it doesn’t matter. We stand and walk toward the exit together. “You and I, Ethan, we’re warriors,” he says to me as we’re walking out. “How’s that?” I ask him. “This business is all a fight. And you have to be a warrior to win it. I think you know that.” “Maybe,” I say. “But it’s not all cutthroat.” “It is,” he says seriously. “It’s a war, a constant battle. You have to kill your enemies, Ethan.” “I don’t like doing business that way.” “Then you’ll lose.” He grins at me, like he’s making a joke, but I know he isn’t. We stop at the front door. “Okay, Richard,” I say. “Have a good night. My secretary will be in touch.” “Good. Enjoy being home,” he says. “I’m back to the office.” We shake hands and I walk away with a sour taste in my mouth. On the car ride back home, I just keep thinking

about how that bastard is going to keep pushing me. He’s going to keep making backhanded insults and comments until this deal is finished, just because he can. He knows he has something that I want, and he’s going to push me as far as he can. That’s the kind of man he is. He wants to destroy things. But I’m not like that. I want to dominate things, but I don’t want to destroy them. That’s how I feel about Aria, my little pet back home. I want to dominate her. But I don’t want to break her. Some men, like Richard, might use her up and walk the line. But I don’t want that. I’d rather spoil her, make her feel good until she’s putty in my hands, willing to do anything for me. My heart beats fast in my chest as I finally get home and walk inside. Jenkins takes my jacket and my briefcase. “Have Michelle send up dinner,” I say to him. “And bring me a whisky, please.” “Of course,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen. I pause at the foot of the stairs. Aria is up there, waiting for me. I feel a thrill run through my body. She’s up there and she’ll do anything that I tell her to do. No matter what it is, if it’s not hurting her, she’ll do it. Maybe she’ll do it if

it does hurt, just a little bit. Maybe she wants it to hurt. I can feel my cock already getting hard as I climb the steps. My pet, my Aria, tied up to the bed. I’ll slide my cock down her throat and as I pull it back out, she’ll beg for more. I have to pause outside of her door, heart beating hard in my chest, calming myself. I can’t go in there with my hard cock trying to break through my pants. Once I’m calm, I knock twice and then open the door. I step inside and find Aria sitting on one of the large, soft white chairs, reading a book. She looks up at me and smiles. “Ethan,” she says, and sounds genuinely excited. “Hello, my pet,” I say, smiling as she tries to hide the fact that she doesn’t like that nickname. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you until now.” “That’s okay. I’m keeping myself company.” I smile at that. “What are you reading?” “This?” she shrugs. “Nothing. Trash.” I walk over to her and sit down in the chair next to hers. She shows me the cover and I laugh. It’s some trashy romance with a muscular shirtless hunk on

the cover by a woman named Willow Winters. “What’s it about?” I ask. “You know, the usual. Boy meets girl. Boy fucks girl until she can’t stand it.” Aria shrugs. I can’t help but laugh. “Sounds like great literature.” “It won’t win the Nobel Prize, but it’s good anyway.” “Did Jenkins bring that?” “He did, actually.” “I didn’t know we had that stuff in the house.” “Apparently someone here loves their dirty stories.” “Do you like dirty stories?” I ask her. She blushes slightly. “I guess so.” “What do you like about them?” “I don’t know,” she says, looking away. I can tell that she’s embarrassed and I love it. “Tell me,” I say. “What do you like about them?” She pauses for a second, searching for the words. “They’re fantasy,” she says finally. “Bad things

happen and people don’t communicate, but the drama makes it really hot, and the endings are always happy.” I watch her for a second, smiling at that. It’s interesting that she specifically mentioned the happy endings as something she likes. Maybe she’s looking for her own happily ever after, but doesn’t even realize it yet. There’s a knock at the door suddenly. I stand and walk over. Jenkins is standing out in the hall with a cart and my whisky. “Thank you,” I say to him. He nods and heads back to the stairs. I take the glass then wheel the cart into the room, shutting the door behind me. As I take a sip and park the cart near the table, Aria stands up and steps toward me. “Wait,” I say, looking at her. “What are you wearing?” “This?” She looks down at herself. “It’s just a dress.” I hadn’t noticed it before, when she was sitting. It’s a black dress that hugs every inch of her body with a cutout right around her breasts, showing just the right amount of cleavage. It’s a gorgeous dress and suits her figure perfectly, but it’s all wrong.

“Would you wear that if you were just sitting around at home?” I ask her. She cocks her head at me, smiling. “No, of course not.” “So why were you wearing it?” “For you,” she says. I sigh, sipping my drink. “I want you to be yourself, Aria.” “I can do that, if you want.” “No,” I say softly, stepping toward her. I reach out and softly take her hair in my fist. “It’s not about what I want.” “Yes, it is,” she says in a small voice. “You don’t understand,” I say. “I want to spoil you. I want to make you feel good, but only if you want me to. Now though...”I can tell that she’s upset. “I messed up,” she says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten all dressed up.” “We can fix it,” I say gently. “How?” she asks. I let go of her hair and step back. “Take off the dress,” I say, heart hammering in my chest.

She looks at me for a second. “Okay,” she says. I watch as she slowly slides it off her body until she’s standing in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of black underwear. Her body is gorgeous. Her breasts are full and her hips are perfectly curvy. I want to order her to turn around so that I can take a look at her beautiful ass, but I hold back. Because I know what I want. I know how I’m going to punish her. I stare at her body and I can see the blush on her cheeks. She’s a little embarrassed to be standing in front of me like this, letting me stare at her, and I like that. I think I have something else that she’ll like. “Do you want to get on the bed?” I ask her softly. “Face down,” I add. She watches me for a second then nods. “Okay,” she says. I watch as she climbs onto the bed and stays there on all fours, looking back at me over her shoulder. I give her a look then head into the closet to get her punishment.

8

ARIA

I

’m practically shaking when he comes back from the closet holding three long strips of black silk. He smiles at me and walks slowly toward me, and I can feel my heart hammering hard in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do with those long silk ropes, but I want to find out. “Flat on your stomach,” he says to me simply. I pause then obey. He walks down toward my feet, sliding his fingers along my skin. He touches my lower back, my ass, and slides down my legs until he stops at my feet. He lifts my legs up, keeping my ankles crossed, and then expertly wraps the silk around and between them.

“If you want me to stop, say the word ‘building’. Do you understand?” he asks. I nod. “I understand.” He pulls the silk tight. “Too hard?” he asks. “No,” I say. I can’t move my feet as he takes the other end of the rope and ties it to the footboard. I try to move my ankles but I’m bound tightly. He smiles and runs his fingers back up along my body as he moves up toward my head. A chill runs down my spine as his fingers touch my back. I gasp slightly and look away from him, hiding my excitement. I’m dripping wet already, just from his fingertips brushing along my skin. He runs his fingers down my right arm, stopping at my wrist. “What are your boundaries?” he asks me as he wraps the silk around my wrist, expertly looping it and tying it there. “Boundaries?” I ask him, not sure what he means. “What won’t you do? Things you don’t like. Pain, for example.” “I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t really have boundaries yet.”

He smiles. “Good.” He pulls the silk then ties it to the headboard. “Too tight?” he asks. “No,” I say, testing it. The bond is firm but not cutting off circulation. He walks around the bed then runs his fingers along my skin, from my lower back up along my left arm, ending at my left wrist, and repeats the procedure. “This is your punishment,” he says as he works. “You’ll be tied and bound to this bed. Not too tight, not too uncomfortable, but you won’t be able to move. I’ll be able to do anything I want with you.” A thrill runs through my stomach and as he finishes tying my left wrist to the headboard, I feel a moment of panic. I test my bonds and sure enough, I can’t move at all. I’m totally at his mercy. But I remember what he said about the safe word. All I need to do is say “building” and he’ll stop. I trust him, for whatever reason, although the fear of him taking advantage of me makes this whole experience that much more arousing. I turn my head and watch him. I’m flat on my stomach, ankles crossed, arms flat on the bed and above me. I can touch the headboard with my fingers, but I’m not being stretched or pulled out of position. It’s actually comfortable if I don’t move.

He stands there, admiring me, and then runs his fingers along my back again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says. “Thank you,” I whisper, excitement coursing through me. He stops, his fingers lingering over the cleft under my ass. I can feel his fingers inches from my pussy and I know he can feel the heat radiating from there. If he moves slightly further, he’ll feel how dripping wet I am. Instead, he pulls back his hand and spanks me. I let out a soft gasp, surprised. He smiles at me. “Sorry, did that hurt?” he asks. “No,” I say, “you just surprised me.” “Good.” He spanks me again, this time harder. I gasp, and it actually does hurt. “What about that?” he asks. “That hurt a little bit,” I say. “Perfect.” He spanks me again and again. It stings, but it’s dulled by the intensity of the moment. I’m completely at this man’s mercy and he’s spanking me like a disobedient child. “This is part of your punishment,” he says. “I’m going to spank you until I can see my palm prints in

red on both of your perfect white ass cheeks.” “Ethan,” I groan. “Please. Go easy on me.” He smiles, and I can tell that he likes that. “I am going easy on you, my pet. Don’t worry.” He spanks me again and again, making me groan. I try to squirm but I can’t move, can’t get away. It hurts, but not very much. In fact, it’s just the right amount of pain, cutting through the insane sexual chemistry I’m feeling. I want him to take me so badly, but each new spank is intensely erotic in a way I’ve never felt before. He finishes on the one side then goes around the bed and repeats the procedure. “I love the feeling of this ass under my palm,” he says. “I like that you’re willing to lay there, moaning and taking it. You’re my pet and you know it, don’t you?” “Yes,” I gasp, losing myself in the game. “I’m your little pet. And I shouldn’t disobey you.” “That’s right. This is what happens when you do. I’ll tie you up nice and tight then spank your ass.” “Ethan,” I gasp when he hits me harder, one last time. He stops and steps back. He admires my ass,

smiling huge. “Perfect,” he says. I squirm against the ropes again, wanting him to put his hands back on me. He kneels down at the side of the bed and runs his fingers through my hair. “You want more, don’t you?” he asks softly. I nod my head, mouth hanging open, and I realize that it’s true. I’m not acting anymore. I want him to touch me. I want his fingers between my legs, his hard cock between my lips. “Not tonight,” he says, standing. “What?” I ask, surprised. “No, not tonight. You don’t deserve it tonight.” He turns and starts walking to the door. “Wait,” I say. “Ethan. Please.” He pauses. I can’t see him, but I know he’s nearby. I try to turn my head, but I can’t roll over. “Please, what?” he asks. I pause, biting my lip. What do I want, exactly? Do I really want him to touch me? Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. I could just play along with these games, letting him spoil me. I don’t know what he really wants, and I don’t want to push him away. I don’t want to be greedy. I’m afraid that if I tell him

how badly I want to feel him press his body against me, sinking his cock deep between my legs, that I’ll ruin the moment. I don’t want to risk that. “Don’t leave me,” I say instead, hedging my bet. I can hear the grin in his voice. “You want me to untie you?” “Maybe,” I say. “What do you want?” He pauses and I wish I could see his face. Then he walks back over to me and unties my ankles then my wrists, one after the other. I sit up on my side, watching him. He puts the silk away in the dresser by the side of the bed then crosses his arms. “Enough for tonight,” he says. “Dinner is on the cart.” He nods at the cart parked over by the table. “Okay,” I say, suddenly afraid. Did I do something wrong? I don’t want to displease him, and I definitely don’t want this to be over. He walks over to me and takes my chin, tilting my head up toward him, and he slowly moves down toward me. I feel a thrill, thinking he’s going to kiss me, but instead he presses his lips against my ear. “You did well, my pet,” he whispers. “We’ll finish another night.” He moves away and leaves the

room before I can say anything. I hear the door shut and I collapse back onto the bed, practically panting with pent-up desire. I can’t believe how much I want it. I’ve never felt this way before, ever. Oh sure, I’ve wanted sex before, but not like this. I feel like I’m hanging from a cliff, barely held up by ropes, and all I want is for him to let me fall. It’s dangerous and thrilling and exhilarating. And I didn’t expect to feel this way. It doesn’t hurt that he’s so damn attractive, but it’s more than that. It’s the way he teases me, taking me a little further but backing off, never giving me what I want. I know he’s in control, even if I don’t want him to be. Part of me wanted to tear those ropes off and take him, pull him into the bed with me, beg him to make me feel good. I knew that would ruin everything, but still, I wanted it. I wanted it so badly I can barely think. I have to lay there for a while, maybe a half hour, trying to get myself together. Eventually, I calm down enough to change my clothes and eat the food. It’s good, though it’s cold. As I go to bed that night, I keep thinking about him,

about Ethan and his control. I want to understand it and get past it. I want him to make me feel good. I want to be his spoiled little pet.

9

ETHAN

I

couldn’t get the image of Aria tied up to the bed out of my mind all the next day.

I wanted to fuck her. I can’t say it any other way. I wanted to slide my thick cock deep inside of her pussy, keeping her tied up like that, but I couldn’t let myself. Not yet, at least. She liked it. I could tell she liked it. As soon as I put my hand near her pussy I could feel her heat and practically taste her dripping cunt. She was squirming for it the whole time, and not once did I think I was pushing her too far. It was a simple little spanking, but I could tell she’s never been bound up like that before. I don’t normally do that with women. It’s true, I

have a thing for control, but I don’t show that to the average woman that I bring home. Normally I just get them off and get myself off and that’s enough. But with Aria, I know I need something more. I know she needs it, too. I keep picturing her perfect round ass as I spank it over and over. I keep getting hard at my desk as I imagine my red palm prints on her perfect, smooth white ass. It drives me fucking crazy, and I crave release, but I know that won’t help anything. Although there’s more work to be done, around eight that night I have to go home. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep pretending like the only thing I want to do is be at home with Aria. I call the car, say goodnight to the few people still working late, and head back through the city. As I watch the houses flash by, I can’t help but think about how I don’t really know her, not yet at least. I feel like I know her, but I don’t really. I don’t know where she came from and even if her real name is Aria. I suspect it might be, but I’m only just guessing. She doesn’t seem like she’s very good at acting, as evidenced by her little slipups toward the end of our session, but I can’t be sure. I decide that I’m going to play a different sort of game tonight. Maybe not exactly a game, more like something normal. Once the car pulls up, I head

right inside. Jenkins meets me in the kitchen. “Home early tonight, sir,” he says. “Yes, I am. How’s Aria?” “She’s well,” Jenkins says. “Wanted more movies today. And requested some skin lotion.” I grin at that. “Send dinner up to her room. For both of us. Please.” “Of course.” Jenkins turns and walks off. My heart is beating fast and I realize that I’m excited like a little boy as I take the stairs two at a time. I quickly reach her door and stop just short of barging in, gathering myself. I have to get myself under control. I need to be calm and collected when I see her. Control is what separates us from the animals. We can control ourselves, force ourselves to be calm and to do things we don’t necessarily want to do. I’m obsessed with control because it proves to me that I’m above the animals, that I’m greater than them. Except sometimes, it feels so fucking good to lose myself. All of my worries, my troubles, they drop away and I can embrace the animal inside of me.

That’s how I feel when I’m fucking, but when I’m playing these games, it’s a different sort of release. I calm my heart rate and finally knock once before walking into her room. Aria is sitting on the small couch, curled in a little ball, watching TV. She sits up as soon as I walk into the room and wipes her eyes. “Ethan,” she says. I stop dead and blink, surprised. “Are you okay?” I ask, instantly concerned. “Oh, I’m fine,” she says, laughing lightly. “If there’s something wrong, I’ll fix it. If you don’t like our game, we’ll change it.” I take a step toward her. She smiles and stands up. “Really Ethan, I’m fine. I was just watching... a movie.” She grabs the remote and turns off the TV. “What movie?” I ask, taking a step toward her. I’m curious about what would make her cry. “I don’t want to say.” “Come on. You read trashy romances. What else can you have to hide?” She laughs again. “Okay, fine. It was Love Actually.”

I grin at her. “Seriously?” “It’s good, okay? Gets me every time.” “You wimp.” “I’m a big sap.” She laughs and sits down on the bed. “You’re here early,” she says, looking at me. I sit down on the bed next to her. “I couldn’t stay at work.” “Rough day?” I shake my head. “I just kept thinking about you.” She looks at me, and for a second I see genuine excitement in her eyes. But it quickly passes. “Really?” she asks. “Really.” I reach out and put my hand on her leg. She’s wearing yoga pants and a white t-shirt, though her hair is done and she’s wearing makeup. I suspect this is her attempt at compromise. She wants to be herself, but she still needs to play her part. It’s good enough, at least for now. “I was hoping you’d have dinner with me,” I say. “Of course.” “You didn’t eat yet?” She shakes her head. “I’ve always been a late

eater.” “Me too.” There’s a knock at the door and I stand, heading over to it. Jenkins is outside with a meal cart. I give him a little thanks nod and take it from him, wheeling it back inside. Aria goes to set the table up, but I wave her off. “This way,” I say. I walk over to the back of the room and pull back the curtain. I unlatch the window and pull it open, revealing the balcony. She blinks, clearly surprised. “It’s gorgeous out here. I had no clue.” “Good. It was meant to be a surprise.” I wheel the cart out onto the balcony and she follows. There’s a small table, some chairs, and the view is amazing. It looks out across Old City, at all the historic buildings. The room-length curtains hid this from her view and apparently she didn’t explore her surroundings too much. That tells me a little something about her. “It’s really beautiful,” she says again, smiling and looking out at the city lights. “I love it out here,” I say. “This is the only room with a balcony like this.” “Really? Yours doesn’t have one?”

“I know. Horrible.” She laughs. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, this house is amazing.” “I tried to keep the outside as original as possible, and this was the only original balcony.” I park the cart and begin putting our meal onto the table. There’s a cut of steak and a baked potato for me and what looks like a Caesar salad for her, which I’m guessing is what she asked for at some point. Michelle is very good at learning her guests’ preferences. “Sit,” I say, pulling her seat out, and she sits. I pour myself a drink of whisky from the cart and sit down across from her. I sip my drink as she starts eating. I take a bite of my steak, but I’m not really hungry. That’s not the purpose of this little meal, anyway. “What’s your real name?” I ask her suddenly. She looks up at me, surprised. “Aria,” she says. I cock my head. “Really? You used your real name?” She shrugs. “I didn’t want to have to learn a new one. I figured it’s easier this way.” “Pretty name,” I say, and I know she’s not lying.

“Thanks. One of the nicest things my mother ever gave me.” Her joke sounds rehearsed, like it’s one she’s made many times before, and I smile. “Were you and your mother close?” I ask. “No,” she says, and goes back to eating. Interesting. Her family life is a touchy subject. “Can I ask you how you got into this business?” She shrugs again. “I’ll tell you. But I don’t think you want to know.” “Why not?” She puts down her fork and cocks her head at me. “It’ll ruin the fantasy, won’t it?” “Not at all,” I say. “You’re the fantasy, Aria. The real you.” “You don’t want the real me,” she says, looking down at her plate. I lean toward her. “Try me.” “I’m not like you, Ethan,” she says. “I don’t have anything.” “Having things doesn’t make a person,” I say. “I’ve made mistakes.”

“We all have.” I reach my hand out and put it on hers. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. But I want you to know that I want to know, and I’m not afraid of the answers.” She looks me in the eye and I can see something there, but I’m not sure what it is. I hope she understands that I’m being sincere. I assume something happened to force her into this job. Maybe it’s not a bad thing that forced her to do it, or maybe it is. I can’t really say, but I can accept it either way. We all have a past, but I don’t judge her based on that. Still, her past can tell me things about her, and I want to know everything there is to know. It won’t change my opinion, but maybe I’ll see a fuller picture of her, get to know her in a way I couldn’t have before. “I had a boyfriend when I was twenty. He was a real asshole.” She crosses her arms over her chest as she speaks, and I can tell that’s a defense mechanism. “What was his name?” I ask. “Derek,” she says. “He seemed so nice at first. Until one night he convinced me to get high with him. Derek was a heroin addict, it turned out. He still had a job and stuff, so he was functional at that

point, but it wasn’t long before we were both consumed by addiction.” I nod slowly, listening intently. So it’s drugs and addiction. That’s her dark secret. I want to smile and tell her that it’s okay, that I’ve heard worse, maybe done worse, but I don’t. I just listen and take her seriously. “Things got bad for a while. We were junkies, but we were junkies together. And then one night, Derek bought this shit from a guy we didn’t know. We were desperate for it. And he shot up first. I watched him die right there in the street.” She looks down at her lap and is quiet for a little while. “What happened to you after that?” I ask gently, prodding her. “The usual stuff. I was still an addict, after all. I met some other addicts, fell in with another group, but didn’t sleep around. Couldn’t bring myself to, not after I watched Derek die. He was my first.” She blushes as she says that, which is so incredibly cute. “Anyway, eventually I hit rock bottom. From there, I checked myself into a drug rehab place, a really nice place. Also an expensive place. But it was too late. I also had a pretty big debt with a local dealer, the kind of debt you won’t ever run out on. So

between the rehab place and the dealer, I needed to make some money. Being a waitress wasn’t doing it. My debt was drowning me. I’ve been clean for years, but the debt hasn’t gone away. So I turned to this.” She finishes her story and picks her fork back up, playing with her food quietly. I watch her, fascinated. It’s an interesting story, if a common one. It’s admirable that she got herself clean on her own. Very, very few junkies have the strength to do that, and it speaks volumes about her character. She got out of the life on her own and she should be very proud of that. Money is what’s holding her back. I smile at her gently. “That’s not such a horrible story,” I say. “So the fantasy isn’t destroyed?” “Not at all. Clean for how long?” “Two years,” she says. “And I’m also, you know, clean in the other way, too. The Syndicate tests us.” I nod, smiling. “I figured that.” “Sorry. I just... figured I should say. In case you were curious.” “I understand.” I reach out and take her hand.

“Thanks for telling me that.” She smiles and looks a little uncertain. I’m guessing most people treat her differently after she admits that she’s an addict, but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t see why it would bother me. She got herself clean and is trying to improve her life. If anything, that just shows how strong she is. I let go of her hand and go back to eating. We eat together in silence for a few minutes, both absorbing her story. “What about you?” she asks finally. “I’m clean too,” I say, and grin at her. She smiles. “I mean, your life. What brought you here?” She gestures at the house. “Not really an interesting story.” “It’s interesting to me.” I grin at her. “Okay then. When I was fifteen, I really liked building things and I was good with computers. When I was twenty, I started a company that specialized in streamlining the manufacturing process. And that company has been my life ever since, for over ten years.” “That’s not such a boring story,” she says.

“Sure it is. It’s mundane.” She laughs, genuinely happy. “None of this is mundane, Ethan.” “I have money. And I have nice things. But none of that is any more interesting than what you’ve been through.” “You’re right. I am the most interesting person I know.” She grins at me. I laugh and go back to eating. She watches me for a second before eating as well. She asks me about work and we fall into normal small talk, which is a welcome relief from the heavy conversation about her past. It’s comfortable, talking and eating with her, in a way that I didn’t expect. I assumed the games between us would be fun, but I had no idea that we’d have chemistry outside of the bedroom. Apparently we do, though. She’s whip-smart and clever and witty, which makes it easy to chat with her, even about nothing at all. As we finish up, I realize that this is the first meal I’ve shared with someone and really enjoyed in a long time. Normally I’m stuck with men like Richard Taylor or other boring business contacts, but Aria is different. She’s light and alive in ways I

never expected. When we’re finished, I put the plates back on the cart and sit back down, enjoying my whisky. She watches me for a second before speaking up. “What was your childhood like?” she asks. “You didn’t say anything about it.” I freeze for a second and look at her, trying to decide how to respond. “I’d rather not talk about it,” I say. She must not see that I’m serious, because she pushes on. “Come on, tell me. It can’t be that bad. You seem pretty well-adjusted.” I stand suddenly. “Thanks for eating with me,” I say. “What?” she asks. I grab the cart and wheel it back inside. “Wait, Ethan. I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about your past if you don’t want.” She follows me into the room. I wheel the cart to the front door, not sure why I’m reacting this way. Maybe it’s because I’ve never told anyone about my childhood, and I find myself wanting to tell her. But that’s dangerous. I’m not ready to open up yet, but with her it’s tempting.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, pushing the cart out into the hallway. She stands back in the room, watching me go, and we lock eyes for a minute. She looks sad, genuinely sad that I’m leaving, and I feel a sharp pang in my chest. But I can’t stay, not when I’m so tempted to tell her about my childhood and everything that happened to me. Instead, I smile at her and shut the door behind me. I walk back down the hall, leaving the cart by the elevator for the staff, before returning to my own room. That was a good night. I check the clock and am surprised that we were out there for two hours. The conversation flowed so easily. I feel bad about the way that ended, but I couldn’t help it. She opened up to me, but I’m not ready to do that yet. I should have just told her that I’m not ready, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I was too worried I’d start spilling my guts. I can’t have that. Not yet. Maybe I’ll tell her, but not tonight. I’ll make things right. I’ll make this up to her tomorrow. She’ll be happy that I stormed out tonight by the time I’m finished with her tomorrow.

For now, though, it’s bed alone and work early, because that’s my life.

10

ARIA

A

ll the next day, I keep thinking about the way Ethan reacted to my question about his past. It was strange and totally unexpected. He shut down almost instantly. There must be something in his past that he doesn’t like. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have pushed back the way he did. Part of me is angry that he walked away the way that he did, especially after I opened up to him. But he listened to me and didn’t seem to judge me at all, which is really good. That was my biggest fear. I was worried that as soon as he found out about my past, he’d kick me out and want nothing to do with me. Clearly that’s not the case, though, and I’m very thankful for it. I just wish he’d apply his own thinking to his past.

He doesn’t judge people on their past, but he’s not willing to share his own, which makes me wonder. I won’t push him, because it’s my job to make him happy, but I feel like he owes me. At least a little bit. Maybe he doesn’t have to tell me every deep dark secret, but I opened up to him and he should give me the same respect in return. I can wait and give him some time to do it on his own volition, but I do feel a little betrayed. For better or for worse, I have all day to contemplate that. I’m stuck in my room again with only the company of Jenkins when he brings my meals plus whatever movies and books I can read. I make sure to text The Syndicate letting them know that I’m okay, but otherwise, I don’t have much to do. It’s not so bad, though. It’s boring of course, but it’s better than the way my life used to be. Plus, the amount of money I stand to make for this is astronomical, and all I have to do is keep myself as busy as possible. It’s like a beautiful and comfortable prison, or like a playpen for a loved pet. Maybe that’s exactly what he wants it to be. I am his little pet, after all. There are much worse things to be. There are worse places to be, too. I’ve been in a few of them. I can

remember one beat-up, decrepit house that Derek and I stayed in for a week or two back in the deepest throes of our addiction together, just before he died. That place was a mold-infested rat’s nest and yet we slept there, ate there, fucked there, and got high there for almost a week straight. We barely left that place and it felt like paradise. Mostly because I was high out of my mind. I feel so disgusted and embarrassed to look back on those days. I’ve worked so hard to better myself, to improve over the junky I used to be. But that junky is always there, buried in the back of my mind, and every day I fear she’ll break free and take over again. I just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. I have so much to lose now. Around noon, Jenkins comes with my lunch. He wheels it in on a cart like usual, and it smells amazing. As he turns to leave, I stand up from the couch. We don’t normally talk, but today I suddenly feel a little bold. “Excuse me,” I say. He pauses and turns back to me. “Yes?” he asks, barely concealing his disdain. What a jerk. The man acts like giving me food is

like feeding a lizard or something. “I was wondering if I can go for a walk,” I say. “I’m just cooped up in here all day. I just hoped I could go around the block.” He pauses, his frown deepening. “Did Mr. Locks explain the rules to you?” he says. “He did. I just hoped I could get permission from you.” He shakes his head. “Permission denied.” I pause, surprised. “It’s just around the block. You can come with me if you want.” “No, thank you,” he says. “I’m a very busy man. I don’t have time to escort an... escort around the block.” I sigh, understanding. I guess it is pretty obvious what I am. And clearly Jenkins doesn’t approve. I can’t say I really blame him or am surprised. He probably has Ethan’s best interests at heart, and is afraid that I’m here to rob them all blind. I’m not, of course. I’m here to make Ethan happy. I’m here to do my job. But I can’t really explain that to this man. He’s clearly too proud and too stubborn to ever really get it. “Thanks,” I say, sitting back down.

“Will that be all?” “Yes, thank you.” He turns and leaves without another word. I sigh, stretching my legs. I’m so bored and cooped up. I get up and walk out onto the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. The city stretches out below me and I pass some time watching the people walk down the sidewalk, wishing I could be one of them, but knowing I’d never really trade places with any of them for anything. Despite all the difficulties, I am where I want to be. Hours pass, dinner comes and goes, and I’m almost ready to give up on another visit from Ethan when there’s a gentle knock at the door. I’m wearing my usual yoga pants and t-shirt, although I have on makeup and my hair is pulled up into a messy bun. I’m obeying his commands more or less. I wouldn’t wear makeup all day like this if I weren’t going to see anyone, but I can’t let myself fall apart completely. I have to put in some sort of effort for him at least, even if he wants me to be myself. Ethan steps into the room, looking as handsome as always. I put down my book and smile at him, surprised at the excitement that I feel in my stomach.

“How was work?” I ask him. He grins at me. “Work was fine. Couldn’t wait to leave.” “Why’s that?” He walks over to me and sits down on the chair across from me. “I wanted to see you. And to apologize for last night.” “There’s nothing to apologize about.” “I was an ass. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.” “You have things that you don’t want to talk about. I get it.” He sighs and leans back in the chair. I can see how tired he is suddenly, and I realize that he can’t sleep more than a few hours every night. His job is clearly demanding a lot of him, and he gives it everything he can. He probably doesn’t have time to get close to people. When he first bought me, I wondered why a man like Ethan could possibly want someone like me. I still feel unworthy. I am unworthy, truth be told, but now at least I understand why he’d want to buy me. Ethan doesn’t have time to meet women and to

fall in love like normal people. He’s working and living at an entirely different level, one that most normal people can’t even imagine. He makes a lot of money, but he sacrifices a lot for it. I see all of that in a sudden flash of insight as I watch his face. He looks back at me curiously, head cocked to one side. “What?” he asks. I pause for a second, trying to decide how to answer him. “I want to go for a walk,” I say quickly, blurting it out. I regret it right away. “Do you?” He leans forward, smiling. “Are you bored in here?” “I just feel like I need to exercise. “There’s a treadmill in the other room. And you can go onto the balcony for fresh air.” “It’s not the same.” His smile gets bigger. “Didn’t I punish you for this already?” I nod, feeling a thrill run through me. “You did. But I don’t care. I want to go outside.” “No,” he says, and I can see him warming up to the game. “Do I need to punish you again?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “I won’t learn otherwise.” His grin gets huge as he stands. “Good girl,” he says. “You’re learning.” He walks toward me and I watch him, heart hammering in my chest. He leans down and takes my arm, pulling me to my feet, then roughly pulls me toward the bed. “Ethan!” I say. “I’m sorry, am I being too hard with you?” he asks, smirking at me. He pulls me toward him, hands on my hips, and I let out a soft moan. “Is this more like what you want?” he asks, his lips on my neck. I throw my arms around him. “Yes,” I whisper. “But this isn’t a punishment.” He grabs my hair, tipping my head back. I gasp as he kisses my throat. “You just want pleasure. But you can’t have pleasure without pain.” “Who says?” I ask. “I do.” He smirks at me and pulls back, still holding my hair. He walks me over to the foot of the bed. “Down on your knees,” he commands. I obey, falling to my knees. He pulls the tie off his

neck then takes my wrists, both of them together, and wraps the silk tie around them. He takes my hands and puts them above my head before tying me to the top of the headboard. When he’s done, I’m down on my knees in front of him, hands above my head. I test the bond but it’s expertly tied, tight but not so tight that it’s cutting off circulation. He steps back and looks at me. “What do I do with you now?” he asks, a smile on his face that says he knows exactly what he wants. “Show me,” I whisper, my body a ringing mess of excitement. “Since you ask so nicely,” he says, “I will.” He takes off his jacket and I feel like I might pass out from the hard beating of my heart. He carefully lays his jacket over the back of a chair then rolls his sleeves up slowly, watching me the whole time. I keep my eyes locked on his, trying to steady my breathing, but I can barely handle it. Finally, sleeves rolled up, he walks over to me. He adjusts my body, sitting me down on my ass, stretching my hands up further above my head. Then he takes my yoga pants and slowly slides them off my body. When he’s done, I’m sitting on the ground in just a

blue thong, dripping wet and useless at this point, my hands tied above my head. He carefully folds my pants and places them on the bed before walking into the closet. He returns a second later with what I assume is a vibrator. It’s long, thick, and white. He walks over to me and puts me back on my knees before placing the vibrator between my legs and switching it on. Nothing happens. It doesn’t move. I stare at him, legs clenched, waiting for the sensation to tear through me, but nothing happens. “Now, we’ll play a game,” he says. He holds up a little switch in his hand. “This controls the vibrator. I’ll ask you a question, and if you answer it the right way, I’ll give you pleasure. Like this.” He turns it on. I groan softly as the vibrator buzzes between my legs. I can’t help but smile slightly and press against my bonds. He leaves it on for a few seconds then stops. “What’s your name?” he asks. “Aria,” I say. The vibrator turns on, low and slow. I bite my lip. “What are you?”

I cock my head at him. “An escort.” He turns the vibrator off. “Wrong. I’ll ask again. What are you?” I pause, watching him. “Your pet,” I whisper. “Good girl.” He turns the vibrator back on, this time on a higher setting. I can’t help but let out a little moan. The vibrator is right against my clit and it’s moving at a soft and perfect buzz, sending pleasure up my spine. I can’t move or get away from it, and that just makes it so much more intense. “What do you want from me?” he asks. “I don’t know,” I moan. He turns the vibrator down. Not off, but down. “What do you want from me?” he asks again. “Your cock,” I groan suddenly, surprising myself. He smiles and turns the vibrator up. I moan, tossing my head back. “Good girl. Now, do you want to leave your room?” “No,” I moan. “No, please. I don’t want to leave.” “Good.” He turns it up again and I gasp as pleasure

floods through me. He stands there watching me for a few seconds and it’s almost too intense. “You want to make me happy?” he asks. “Yes,” I moan. “Badly.” He turns the vibrator down. I moan, watching him, not sure what I did wrong. “If you could leave right now with the money, would you walk away?” I watch him, trying to think, not sure what to say. I feel like there’s an obvious answer. But I want to be honest. Would I leave right now if I’d get paid? I’m supposed to be here for the money and nothing else. That sort of cash would change my life and put me on a path to a better existence. I could be happy and free with that money. No, I realize. I wouldn’t leave. I don’t want to go anywhere. Maybe the cash would change my life but I’d rather stay and learn more about Ethan. I’m fascinated by him. Actually, I’m attracted to him in ways that I couldn’t imagine. It’s this, his little games. They feel so good and push me so far. I’ve never felt like this before. “No,” I say honestly. “I wouldn’t.”

He watches me for a second then smiles and turns up the vibrator again. Pleasure rips through my core. “Good girl,” he whispers, then steps closer to me. I look up at him, moans escaping my lips, pleasure rocking through my body. I can barely think and I don’t know what I’ll say to him if he asks me any more questions. There’s only one thing that I want, and it’s him, his body, his touch. I crave it so badly, and yet he’s holding it back. I know he’s doing it on purpose but I want to scream for it, I want to beg for it. I can feel the words on my lips, the begging that might get me what I want. He crouches down in front of me and puts his hand on the side of my face. I move over and take his thumb between my lips, sucking on it, biting it softly. I look him in his eyes and I can see the desire there, almost as strong as mine. “Do you want to come?” he asks me. “Yes,” I moan, tossing my head back. “Please, I want it so badly.” “You want to get off, my little pet?” “Please, Ethan,” I moan. “Get me off.” He turns the vibrator down. I gasp, shocked. “Ethan!” I moan, practically whining.

He stands. “I think you’ve been punished enough.” “What?” I moan. He turns off the vibrator and takes it away. “Ethan!” He unties my hands. They drop down to my sides and I stare at him, so frustrated, even a little angry. How could he stop right there? How could this be over? I was so close, right on the edge, and he’s walking away? I’m actually pissed off. I like his games but not if it means I’m going to be pushed but not given the release that I need. “When I leave the room,” he says, looking at me, “I want you to finish yourself off. Do you understand?” I pause then stare at him and slowly nod. “I understand.” “Good girl. But you can’t use this.” He holds up the vibrator. “I want you to fuck your little pussy with those fingers and come as hard as you can.” “Yes, Ethan,” I say, excitement ringing through me again. “Good girl. I’ll be listening right on the other side of that door.” He touches my face again and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me.

But he doesn’t. He turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. I don’t waste a single second. I spread my legs wide, shove my hand down my panties, and press my fingers deep inside of my pussy. I lean forward, braced on one hand on the floor, knees spread wide, as I fuck myself, moaning his name.

11

ETHAN

A

s soon as the door clicks shut, I press my back against it and let out a deep groan.

The hallway is clear as I listen to what’s going on back inside that room. I can hear her moaning, her voice getting loud and deep, and suddenly I hear her say my name. I hear her say my name. It drives me fucking wild. That whole experience was a test in patience and self-control for me. All I wanted to do was slide my cock down her pretty throat and fuck her until I came, but I knew it was too soon. I need to keep pushing the boundaries, keep building the suspense. I need to control everything about this.

But fuck, I don’t want to be in control. I unzip my fly and take out my cock, unable to stop myself. I’m hard as hell, practically ringing with need. I begin to stroke myself, listening to her fuck herself with her fingers. Goddamn, I want to go back in there. I want to go in and watch her do exactly what I told her to do. I can hear her voice getting louder, her breathing getting deeper, and I know she’s making herself come. I stroke myself faster, desire and pleasure exploding through my body. I don’t know how I kept my hands off her back there. I started out intending just to tease her a bit, but it was just too fucking hot. I had to stop and get out of there before I lost control and did something more than just tease. Everything about Aria makes my blood run hot. She sends fire through my veins. She’s fascinating, sexy, smart, and clever all at once, and it pushes me to my limits. I thought this might be a fun game, seducing some attractive escort, but the game is getting far more intense than I ever could have guessed. I want her down on all fours, legs stretched wide as my cock slides into her tight little cunt. I want to feel that tight, hot, wet pussy of hers wrapped around my dick as I pump myself deep inside of

her. I want to tear her apart as I fuck her like an animal, listening to her moans, feeling her skin. I want to sweat with her. I want to make her come. I want to taste it. As her moans get loud and reach their peak, I keep pumping my cock until I come right there in the hallway. I groan, pushing my head back against the door and listening for a moment. She goes quiet on her end, and I know she’s finished, too. Although we didn’t actually touch each other, that was one of the most erotic and intense sexual experiences of my life. I didn’t think it would go this far, and yet here I am, unable to fucking stop myself from getting off while listening to her moans. I stand there in the hallway, breathing deep as the orgasm slowly wears off. I let out a sigh and slide myself back into my pants before lingering there for a moment longer, trying to picture what she looks like on the other side of that door. I can see her, flush with exertion, fingers slick from her own juices. Maybe she licks them clean, maybe she simply wipes them off on her already dripping wet and useless panties. Her nipples are hard under her thin t-shirt and she’s

panting, breathing heavily, and thinking about me. She probably wants to know what it feels like for me to fuck her, maybe wants to know as much as I do. Slowly, the fantasy passes. I get myself together and head down the hall into my own bedroom. I undress quickly and get into the shower, cleaning myself off and trying to clear my head. It’s too soon to be feeling this way. The idea of being unable to control myself around her is a little frightening. It makes me feel uneasy, to be completely honest with myself. I want to be able to have strict control at all times, but out there in the hallway, I lost the ability to hold back. All because of her. Aria pushes me just as much as I push her, though she doesn’t realize it. I told myself I wasn’t going to fuck her until she genuinely wants it, and I still feel that way. It’s why I’m only teasing her so far. But I didn’t expect to want to take her body more than I wanted to hold back and play my game. As the water runs down my body, I can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same thing, but the other way around. I know she’s starting to want it, really and truly want it, and I can’t help but wonder if she is surprised by that. Maybe she didn’t expect to actually want me to take her. She could still be

trying to see this as just another game to play. I don’t know what to think. And it’s not a good feeling. For most of my life, I’ve been in strict control of my situations as best I possibly can. Now, suddenly, with Aria, I feel like I’m losing a bit of that measured control and I don’t like it. I wash myself under the warm water, thinking of her body in the other room, and wondering how I even got here to begin with.

12

ARIA

I

barely see him for nearly a week.

After that night with the vibrator, he doesn’t come for two days. I’m bored out of my mind, but I do my best to pass the time. I get permission on the second day from him through Jenkins to go on a short walk every day, but only so long as I’m chaperoned. Jenkins makes one of the housecleaners, a girl named Camilla that barely speaks any English, go with me. That suits me just fine, though, since I don’t want to talk anyway. On my walk, I go around the block. I have twenty minutes to spend, and I use every minute looking around at the city and stretching my legs. Camilla walks next to me and smiles when we look at each other, but otherwise we’re silent with each other.

It’s actually pretty nice, but I wish it were Ethan with me instead of Camilla. I don’t know why he doesn’t come to see me. After the third day, he comes for dinner, but he doesn’t stay long, and we don’t play any games. We talk about his work and I tell him about my walks, and he agrees to let me have a half hour instead of twenty minutes. Two days after that, he comes for dinner again, and again the next night. But we don’t play any games, and our conversation is simple, almost boring. He seems more reserved and I don’t understand why. He also seems even more tired, if that’s possible. He’s apologetic, and tries to make it up to me by sending gifts, but I don’t need gifts. Although I can’t really complain about getting things. He sends beautiful dresses, jewelry, a new laptop, a new cellphone, scarves, gloves, a new coat, and a hundred other little things. It’s all perfect and expensive, and frankly more than I’ve ever gotten on my own, but I’d give it all up if he’d just come to see me more often. Which is a strange thought. After seven days of this, with only seeing him three times in that week, I find myself getting antsy. I keep having negative thoughts, angry thoughts, and I don’t understand it. Why do I care if he doesn’t come? That just means

my life should be easier. I don’t have to worry about pleasing him if he never comes. But I am worried that I’m not good enough, that I’m not living up to his expectations in some way. He doesn’t say that, of course, but I don’t think he would. He’s a good man. But I crave his attention. I feel silly about it, but it’s the truth. I crave his attention like a lovesick teenager or something, which only makes me feel much crazier. Maybe I’m sick. I’m not supposed to want the man that bought me at an escort auction. I’m supposed to just make him happy and collect my check when it’s all over. Instead, I’m angry that he’s not giving me the attention I deserve. I feel like a spoiled brat, but I don’t care about all these gifts. I don’t need any of them. I felt something during that night with the vibrator. I could see it in his eyes as he turned it up and down, teasing me, pushing me. I know he wants me, more than just sex, more than just as a pet to be used however he wants. I saw something more than that, much deeper, like he couldn’t control it. When I got myself off, I could have sworn I heard him grunting on the other side of the bedroom door. That’s probably crazy, but I can still picture the sounds, and part of me believes he was getting

himself off at the same time I was. There’s something lingering between us and I need to know what it is. I stand up and look at all the things he bought me. I know he’s going to come home from work soon, or at least when he does come home, he comes home about this time. So I go over to the balcony and open up the door. Next, I grab one of the dresses he bought me, and I walk outside. I take it out of the box, take one last look, and then I throw it into the street. I laugh as it hits the ground and I cover my mouth. “I can’t believe I did that,” I say out loud to myself. And it’s true, I can’t believe it. This is so freaking crazy. I could get his attention some other way, something that’s not so public, but I find myself walking back into the bedroom, getting another dress, and throwing it out into the street. This one lands in a nearby tree, which only makes me laugh. I grab another dress and I throw it, along with a box of chocolates, some flowers, and a scarf. It lands in the street and on the sidewalk, and someone looks up at me. Someone else yells, but I don’t care. I throw down more clothes, pillows, blankets, and I

can’t stop myself from laughing the whole time. By the time I’m finished, the street looks like someone dumped their girlfriend by throwing her clothes out the window. People are already starting to push the stuff off to the side, and one or two things get grabbed by people that recognize their worth. There’s probably a few thousand dollars’ worth of stuff down there on the ground, and all I can do is laugh about it. I feel so totally crazy, but I also feel free. I don’t feel any inhibitions at all. This is what he needs, a little wildness in his life. He needs a little levity and excitement. Maybe he doesn’t realize it yet, but I’m going to give it to him. And this is the first step. This will get his attention. If he doesn’t come see me soon, I don’t know what will work.

13

ETHAN

I

t’s around midnight when I get a call on my cellphone from Jenkins.

“Sir, it’s the girl.” I pause. “She has a name.” “Aria.” He says it like he’s drinking poison. “She threw her clothes out the window.” “What?” I say, taken aback. “Sir, she took some of the gifts you’ve given her and she threw them out her window. I’ve sent Camilla to clean them up, but I fear she’s made a scene.” I can’t help but grin. “Made a scene?”

“Yes, sir. The neighbors are talking.” “Of course. I wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors.” “I thought you should know.” “Thank you, Jenkins. I’ll take care of it.” “Of course.” I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair, smiling but perplexed. Why the hell would she throw her things out the window? I’m sure it drove Jenkins absolutely insane to see that, but he couldn’t do anything about it but tattle on her to me. He’s under orders to indulge her every whim, and apparently her whims involve throwing her clothes out a window. Aria doesn’t seem like a crazy and irrational person. I know she’s bored being all pent-up in that room, and I haven’t been very attentive lately. I sit, crossing my legs. I’m done for the night, and I know I should go see her. But I’ve been avoiding her. Ever since that night that I got myself off in the hallway, unable to stop myself, I’ve been afraid to see her. I don’t know if I can keep myself under control around her. When I have gone to her, I’ve kept it distant, although I

really just want to throw the table over and fuck her against the railing over the balcony. I can’t put it off anymore. And I can’t let this little tantrum go unpunished. I call the car and stand, smiling to myself. This is what she wants. There’s no doubt in my mind that she did this just to get me to react. She can tell that I’m being distant and she probably doesn’t know what else to do. I’m betting she figures if she does something like this then I’ll have to punish her. And her punishments are so much fun for both of us. My heart is beating fast on the ride home. I know I’m going to punish her, and it only makes me more excited to realize that she probably wants it. She wants me to spank her, tie her up, fuck her however I want. Which means I’ll have to think of a punishment that she won’t see coming. I spend the car ride envisioning what I’ll do, and finally come up with a fantastic idea. It’s simple, but she won’t expect it at all. It’s not at all what I’ve done in the past, and that’s what makes it so attractive. I can barely wait to see her as the car drops me off

out front. I haven’t felt like this in a while, and it feels good to let loose a little bit. I know I should be trying to moderate my emotions, but I just keep thinking about what I’m going to do to her that I can’t help it. Jenkins meets me in the kitchen. “Sir,” he says. “The girl is sleeping, I believe.” “That’s okay.” I grab a bottle of whisky from the cabinet and pour myself a drink. “You can go to bed, Jenkins.” “Of course, sir.” He pauses, frowning. “May I speak frankly?” I pour myself a drink and nod. “Go ahead.” “I think the girl is a liability. It’s obvious what she, ah, is, and your work duties are particularly sensitive now. I’d hate to see you lose something because of this... girl.” I smile at him and sip my drink. “Thanks, Jenkins. That’ll be all.” “Of course. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” He disappears into the back rooms. He’ll sleep here tonight, like he does most nights. He practically lives here, to be honest, and that’s okay with me.

For the most part, Jenkins is discreet and honest and does an incredible job. If he speaks out of turn sometimes, well, I’ll have to accept it as one of his quirks. I finish my drink, pour another, and then head upstairs, heart beating hard. Aria might be asleep right now, but she won’t be for long. I stop out front of her door and softly open it, trying not to make much noise. The room is pitch dark as I slowly creep across the floor by memory. I can hear her breathing softly in bed, deep and steady, which means she’s definitely asleep. I smile to myself as I slowly pull the curtains open, letting the moonlight drift into the room, illuminating it in soft silvery gray. I step back toward the bed and look down at her for a moment. She’s twisted in the covers, half in and half out, one leg tossed casually over the bedding. She’s wearing a little black tank top without a bra and gray panties, cute boy shorts. I stand there, admiring her body for a second, wondering how the hell I got here. This girl is a total stranger to me, and yet she lives in this room. I keep her like a pet and I absolutely love it, though I never thought I would in a million years. There she is though, sleeping soundly in this

room, and I know I can have her if I want to. I can do anything to her right now, and chances are she’d let me. That’s not what I’m here for, not exactly anyway. I’m here to punish her. And I know exactly how I’m going to do it. Carefully, I take off my jacket and toss it over the back of a chair. I roll up my sleeves then slowly climb into bed. She stirs softly as I roll her onto her back, spreading her legs. She mumbles something as I kiss her stomach. “Ethan?” she says. I don’t respond. I kiss lower until I find her pussy, taking a deep breath, relishing her scent. I begin to kiss her over her panties. I kiss her pussy, her inner thigh, her stomach, and I know she’s wide awake now. I slowly slide the panties down her legs, not saying a word. She doesn’t move, but I catch her watching me, her eyes slightly wide. Not from fear, but from pure excitement. I toss her panties onto the floor before moving back down between her legs. She’s wet already and getting wetter. I begin to lap her up, sucking her clit, enjoying her taste. I love

the soft noises she starts making, almost as if she can’t help herself, like she’s trying to hold them back. Maybe she wants to try and pretend to still be asleep, as if that were my fetish or something. I want her to wake the fuck up. I slide two fingers deep into her pussy and she gasps and lets out a deep moan. I grin at her then go back to work, fingers deep inside of her, mouth and lips on her swollen clit. I keep licking her, nibbling her, sliding my fingers in and out of her. I listen as her moans get louder and she suddenly wraps her fingers through my hair as I press my tongue against her clit just the right way. “Oh shit,” she groans. I begin to fuck her faster with my fingers, pushing them deep and sliding them back out. She squirms against me, writhing her hips, and I keep licking and sucking her clit as I fuck her with my fingers. I get up on my knees, getting more leverage as I keep fucking her with my fingers. Her groans turn into full-on moans, loud and full. She says my name, again and again, and my cock is hard as fuck as I keep sucking her perfect clit. I can’t stop. I intended to get her to the edge then pull back, but I can’t stop myself. She’s getting louder, writhing faster, pressing my face faster as

she moves her hips, and I know she’s close. I can practically taste her dangling on the edge of finally getting off, and I want it. I want to taste her come in my mouth as my fingers fuck her tight little pussy. I’m losing my mind as I keep going, keep working her. I’m hard as fuck and barely holding myself back from taking her tight little cunt as my own. I keep fucking her, sliding my fingers in, sucking her clit. “Ethan, fuck, I’m so close,” she moans. I look up at her, fingers sliding in harder, fucking her deeper. “Come for me,” I command her. “Right now. I want to taste it.” “Ethan!” she gasps. “Go ahead. Come in my mouth, you filthy fucking girl. I want it.” “Oh god,” she moans and I go back to work, sucking her, sliding my fingers in faster, until her back starts to arch and I know she’s coming. Her voice gets louder, lower, and her fingers grab my hair tightly. Her whole body reacts and I don’t let up. I keep fucking her pussy though I pull back and watch her face as she comes. She’s fucking gorgeous, in absolute ecstasy, and I can barely

fucking handle it myself. She comes hard and says my name, over and over, like she’s begging for more. When she’s finally done, I slide my fingers out from her then gently lick her up again. I tease her clit and lick her pussy, sliding my tongue inside, tasting her every drop. “Ethan,” she moans. “Please.” “Please what?” I ask. She sits forward and pulls my face up. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s breathing deep. “Fuck me,” she whispers. “Please.” I look at her for a second then gently pull away from her, smiling and shaking my head. “No,” I say, and I get off the bed. “What?” “No,” I say again. “I won’t.” “But...” She trails off, watching me. “You’re not ready,” I say. “I’m ready.” Her eyes are bright and excited. “Ethan, please. I’m ready.” I stand next to the bed and take her cheek in my

hand, looking down at her gorgeous face. I pause for a second and in that moment, I want to fuck her. I think she really means it. I think she genuinely wants me to take her, not just as my escort and my pet, but as herself. There are no barriers or guards up right now, it’s just her, just Aria watching me with desperate and desiring eyes. I can’t do it, though. I can’t give in to her. This is meant to be her punishment, even if she does genuinely want it. Instead, I kiss her. I can’t help myself. I kiss her full and deep and she kisses me back with a hunger that surprises me. She presses herself closer to me, arms wrapped around my neck, and we kiss like that for what seems like forever, though it’s likely only a few seconds. She tastes like wildflowers and fresh grass, and I’m surprised by how deeply I lose myself in the moment. But eventually, I get control over myself, and I slowly pull back. She looks up at me, not sure of what’s happening. “This is your punishment,” I say softly. Recognition enters her eyes and she gives me a sly smile. “You heard about that.” “You’ve been bad. Very bad.” I reach forward and

take her hair, kneeling down next to the bed. “You could have embarrassed me, you know.” “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve just been so lonely.” I watch her for a second, but I don’t feel anger, which surprises me. It’s true that she could have embarrassed me. My position isn’t the kind of thing that allows for that kind of public display. I’m not exactly famous, but there are people in this world who would love to get a scoop on me and possibly destroy me. I do have to be careful, and Aria risked that by throwing her things into the street. But I don’t feel anger. I gently release her hair, realizing that I feel more alive and excited than I have in a long time. It’s stupid and risky, but maybe I need stupid and risky sometimes. “Don’t do it again,” I say. “I won’t. I promise.” “Good.” I stand up. “But please,” she says. “Visit me more. Don’t leave me alone in here. The walks are nice but... they’re not enough.” I stare at her for a moment and I get another glimpse of her genuine self. I can see it written all

over her face. She’s desperate for more attention. And I want to give it to her. The out-of-control feeling I get around her maybe isn’t as bad as I first thought. Maybe it feels pretty damn good, actually. I just need to be careful. But she’s mine, my pet, and I have to make sure that she’s happy. I screwed up by leaving her alone, but I’ll make up for that. “I promise,” I say. “I won’t leave you alone for too long again.” She smiles and looks relieved. “Thank you.” “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.” She nods and I turn away, walking over to the chair. I grab my jacket and toss it over my shoulder before looking back at her. She’s sitting up in bed, watching me with wide, gorgeous, innocent eyes. She’s flushed from getting off and she’s biting her lip, clearly confused about what just happened. Her hair is messy and her shirt is slightly askew. She looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her before. I turn and leave, knowing full well that I’ll be back very soon. I can’t stay away from her. I have about three more weeks left with her, and I’ll be damned

if I waste anymore of that time. I head back to my room, unable to get her taste from my mouth, and happy that it won’t leave.

14

ARIA

I

wake up early, still buzzing with excitement. Last night almost feels like a dream, and if it weren’t for the fact that the curtains are still drawn open, I might even think it really was. But I know it wasn’t. Ethan came to me in the middle of the night, woke me up, and gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m still floating high from it. That orgasm was better than any shot of heroin I ever took, because it couldn’t kill me and because there was a promise of more. I can already see myself getting addicted to him. That was one of the most intense and erotic moments in my life, if not the most. I stretch and yawn, still thinking about his touch, and about his

kiss. I didn’t expect his kiss. I was beginning to think he didn’t want to get intimate with me in that way. But when he did kiss me, it shot a bolt of lightning through my core. I felt like I was floating on air again, ready to give myself to him even more. I sigh and roll onto my side. I look up and out the window and can just see the tops of the buildings across the street. Cars drive by down below and I think I can hear people talking. I’m not sure what time it is, but I’m guessing it’s still pretty early based on the way the sun is shining. I can’t help but think about something he said to me. When I begged him to fuck me, he said that I wasn’t ready. I didn’t understand what he meant, and still don’t. I am ready. I don’t think he knows how much I actually want him. I thought I’d fuck him and it would just be like doing a job. Maybe I’d enjoy it a little bit, but in the end it would just be work. This isn’t like that, though. I genuinely want him. If I weren’t getting paid, I’d still want him. If he were just some poor man with no money and no prospects, I’d still want him. I am ready for it, and frankly, I need it. But he’s still holding back from me, and I’m not totally sure

why. Maybe it has something to do with his past. I can’t really say how, but maybe he needs something from me before he thinks I’m ready to actually sleep with him. Things have been intimate as hell already between us, and I have no clue how I can do any more. But I want to do more. I want to show him I’m ready. Maybe throwing that little tantrum was a bad idea. It definitely worked, but I can see how it was stupid of me. I keep thinking of him as a normal man, but he’s far from normal. He’s rich and in control of an important company. His name pops up in the media from time to time, which means people are watching him and judging his moves. Throwing a public tantrum like I did could easily have gotten his name in the papers, and I don’t think that’s something he wants. Ethan seems like an incredibly private man, despite working for a very public company and in a very public position. Despite living in his house for over a week, I feel like I still barely know him. I need to be more discreet from now on. I promised him that I won’t do something like that again, and I definitely won’t. I just hope that it won’t have

repercussions down the road for him. I lie back and close my eyes, trying to imagine him again. His face firm against my thighs and his mouth and fingers know exactly what they’re doing. I feel a thrill run down my spine as my pussy gets wet again, surprising me a little bit by my own blind and intense desire. I’m suddenly pulled out of my fantasy by a knock at the door. It’s just one knock, and I know it’s him. A second later, Ethan comes into the room. He’s not wearing his usual suit. Instead, he’s only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs and a tight white t-shirt, showing off his body. He’s in impressive condition, with muscles bursting against the cotton. He smirks at me, and I know what that smile means. “Good morning,” he says. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone for long.” “Good morning.” I sit up and look at him. He pulls his hands from behind his back and is holding another one of those silk pieces of rope. “We’re going to play another game.” My heart quickens in my chest and I can’t help but smile. I didn’t expect this so soon, but I want it. “Okay,” I say.

“Good girl. Are you excited?” I nod quickly. “Yes.” “Good. Get out of bed.” I quickly get up and stand in front of him. I’m half naked, still just wearing a new pair of panties, though already starting to get wet, and a black tank top. “Stand at the foot of the bed,” he says. I obey and look at him, dripping wet, aching for his next command. “Turn around and get down on your knees.” I turn my back to him then get down on my knees. I look over my shoulder and watch as he comes up from behind me. “Hands on the footboard,” he says. I reach up and grasp it. He crosses my wrists, his body close to mine. I can feel his breath on my neck as he expertly ties my wrists together and then to the bed, cinching them tight, but not too tight. He steps back and I turn to watch him. “Spread your legs,” he says. I spread them wide for him, arching my back a little

bit, letting him see my ass. I’m dripping wet and I can barely hear over the pounding of my heart. “Good,” he says. “That’s how I like you. Wet and willing.” I looked over my shoulder at him, blushing slightly. “What else do you want me to do?” I ask him. He walks over and stops behind me before crouching down. I feel his hands on my hips and I roll my head back as his lips find my neck. “Is this what you like?” he asks me. “That feels good,” I say as he kisses my skin. “Good.” He moves back suddenly and pushes me forward. I gasp as he spanks my ass, hard. “Ethan!” “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” I look over my shoulder at him, ass stinging slightly. “No,” I lie to him. He grins and spanks me again, this time even harder. I groan, surprised at how the sensation makes me feel. I thought it would simply hurt and make me not want to play anymore, but it has the opposite effect. It makes me absolutely dripping wet, and almost feels strangely good.

I feel his hand rub my ass then slide down between my legs. He finds my soaking cleft and starts to rub my pussy with one hand. He takes my hair in the other and pulls my head back. “Do you like pleasure, or do you like pain?” he asks. “Pleasure,” I say. He stops rubbing my pussy, but doesn’t release my hair. “Are you sure?” “I don’t know,” I groan. He releases my hair and pushes my head forward slightly before spanking my other ass cheek. I moan and he does it again, harder. “You look gorgeous,” he says. “Dripping wet with two red hand prints on your ass.” His fingers find my pussy again, rubbing me from behind over my useless and soaked panties. “Why do you tease me?” I ask him suddenly, blurting it out. I can feel his smirk against my neck. “Because I like it,” he says. “Do you like it?” “I don’t know,” I moan, not sure what to think. I can’t think, not really.

He takes my hair and tips my head back before kissing me. I moan into his kiss as his fingers do their work, rubbing my pussy. I want to grab his hair but I can’t move my wrists. I’m completely bound to the bed still. He breaks off the kiss and stops rubbing me. He slaps my ass again and the pain tingles up my spine. He begins back on my pussy as the pain and the pleasure mix, hitting each other in my skull, making it dizzy with an indescribable pleasure. “That’s right,” he whispers. “Pleasure and pain. They’re not so different, you know. A little bit of one makes the other better. A little salt makes sweet stronger. Do you understand now?” “Yes,” I moan. “Good.” He stops. “This is your last punishment.” “What?” He stands. I stare at his bulging cock, straining against his boxer briefs. He slowly slides them off and I gape at his enormous cock as he slowly strokes it. “Holy shit,” I blurt out. He laughs. “That’s what I like to hear.” “Sorry,” I say quickly, hiding my embarrassment by

looking away. “Don’t be sorry, pet,” he says. “Look at me.” I look back at his thick cock and bite my lip. I can’t believe he’s so big. I suddenly don’t know how I can even fit that whole thing inside of me. “You’re going to make me feel good now,” he says. “Do you understand?” “Yes,” I say. “Whatever you want.” “No,” he says, and bends over to take my hair again. “Tell me you want it. And don’t lie, or the punishments continue.” “I want it,” I say, and I know I’m not lying. I want this badly. I want to suck his cock or take him deep inside of me, whatever he wants. I’ve been aching to taste him, to make him feel good. Not just because I was hired to do that, but because it’s him and he deserves it. “Good girl,” he says, and lets me go. I open my mouth and take the tip of his cock between my lips. He groans and moves forward, sliding it deeper into my mouth. I can barely take him, but I try anyway. He’s so thick but I want him, want him inside of my mouth. I pull back and slide forward, sucking him, rolling

my tongue along his skin. His groans of pleasure send waves of joy along my spine, and I love the way he tastes. It’s such a strange feeling, loving the way he can so easily control me and take me. I feel both sexy and helpless and totally turned on. I know I can end this at any time if I say the word, but I don’t want to. He takes my hair and presses me down, and I let his cock go into my throat. I suppress a gag, tears springing into my eyes in reaction, but I just ignore them. I pull back and start to suck him faster, concentrating on the tip. I want to use my hands on his enormous cock, but I can’t. “Fuck, girl,” he grunts. “Watching you suck my cock, helpless like that, makes me fucking insane.” I groan with his cock in my mouth. He presses me back down and I take him, wanting him so badly. He starts to fuck my mouth, sliding himself in and out, but not pushing himself too deep. He seems to sense my limit, and he doesn’t cross the line. He tests it, pressing himself deep enough that I almost want to gag, but pulls back just before. “You’re a perfect fucking pet,” he whispers, cock sliding in and out of my mouth. “Look at you, sexy as fuck with my cock in your mouth. You like being tied up and sucking cock, don’t you?” I moan, nodding my head, eyes up at him. He pulls

out of my mouth then kisses me deeply. It’s the most intimate kiss I’ve ever experienced, and I wish it wouldn’t end. But he pulls back and slides his cock back into my mouth. He fucks my lips, holding onto my hair, and starts to push my boundary. I want him to, I want to see how far I can take him. He slides himself deeper into my throat and I suppress another gag, ignoring the tears that spring to my eyes. They’re just stupid responses of my body. I want to control them. I press forward, leaning into him, until I have his entire cock in my throat. “Oh fuck,” he groans, half laughing from the joy and pleasure. “You’re fucking incredible.” He pulls back and I gasp, looking up at him, smiling. “Fuck,” he says again, kissing me, and presses his cock back in my mouth. I work with him, moving my neck, bobbing my head along his cock, not afraid to be sloppy. I don’t care at this point. I let my spit cover his cock as he fucks my mouth and I suck him, my tongue running along his whole length, his groans filling my ears. I can tell he’s close, and I want him to come. I want to taste him, swallow him, make him know that I want him to feel good. I want to lick him clean when he’s finished and spoil him as much as he

spoils me. His hips move faster, fucking my mouth, and I keep pace with him. I take him, moaning as he fucks my mouth, and his groans get louder. His fingers curl through my hair, holding it tightly, and I know he’s there. His cum fills my mouth as he grunts through the orgasm. I keep moving, sucking him fast, swallowing every single drop as he explodes into my throat. I use my tongue to gather it all from his tip and slowly I finish, pulling back and licking him clean. “Fuck,” he grunts when he’s done. He steps back, flush and gaping at me. “That was fucking incredible.” I smile at him. “Good. I wanted it to be.” He pulls his briefs back up and sits down on a chair, watching me. I watch him back and cock my head. “What?” I ask. “You’re beautiful,” he says. “Fucking beautiful. You know that?” I look away, surprised that I’m blushing. “Thanks,” I say. He stands and walks over to me. He tips my head

back and kisses me again, long and slow. I lose myself in that kiss, enjoying it and asking for nothing more. Finally he breaks off and unties my hands. “I have to go to work,” he says as I stand up. “Okay,” I say, stretching my legs. My knees are a little sore and my ass still tingles, but that’s not bad. “Will you be back later?” He nods. “I will if I can. Promise. If not tonight, tomorrow morning.” “Good.” I walk up to him and put my hands on his chest. “Don’t leave me here alone.” “I won’t.” I kiss him softly, his hands on my hips. We linger there for a second, and it feels good, so freaking good. Almost as if it’s normal, and we do this all the time. He kisses me one more time then leaves. He shuts the door softly behind him, and I’m left alone again. I’m buzzing as I take a shower. I can’t stop thinking about him, about Ethan, and what I’m becoming. Maybe I really am his pet. When this is all over, and it’s time to leave, am I going to be able to walk

away? I can’t think about that right now. He probably won’t even want me. He did only buy me for a month. Maybe he’ll get tired of me by the end. That’ll hurt, hurt a lot, but it’ll be okay. I’ll survive it, I hope. For now though, I have to enjoy it. Really enjoy it. I’ve been given a gift, something I never expected, and now I just have to accept it and be in it for as long as I can.

15

ETHAN

I

can’t get Aria out of my head at all that morning. I’m practically buzzing with desire for her even hours after I last

saw her. Knowing that she’s back in my house, sitting in that room and waiting for me drives me insane. I know she’s there for me and nobody else, and nobody else can touch her. I didn’t expect to feel this possessive of her, but there’s something about the fact that she’s entirely mine and mine alone that brings me immense satisfaction. It was stupid of me to back away from her for that week. I freaked out a little bit when I realized that my self-control was waning around her, but that shouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Isn’t the

whole point of having her to let myself have some fun? There is danger in this. Aria’s tantrum was public and problematic, but I can’t really blame her. I would have felt much the same way if I were cooped up in a room for days with nothing to do. Even at my home where everything is provided for her, it would still be so easy to feel incredibly lonely. I neglected her and I deserved that punishment. It won’t happen again. Not after this morning. Not after last night. I lean back at my desk and take a deep breath. It’s around noon and I have a lunch appointment with Richard Taylor soon, but I’m not really thinking about that. My mind is only on her. And what her next punishment will be. I want to fuck her so badly I can barely stand it. Frankly, it’s taking all of my willpower not to leave work in the middle of the day and go home to have her. I know that would be irresponsible of me, considering the important business I need to get through today, but god damn. I know she’s so close to genuinely wanting it, if she doesn’t already. She’s on the edge and I want to tip her over. I want to taste every inch of her. That skin, smooth

and perfect, and those perfect pink little nipples. And her pussy, delicious little pussy, I want to feel it wrapped around my cock. I want to make her scream my name as I fuck her deep and rough. At this point, I almost don’t care if she begs for it first or not. I’m sure I’ll make her beg for it once she gets a little taste. I take a deep breath and glance at the clock. I need to get going. And I need to stop thinking about this. My plan was to seduce her, and that’s still my plan. I’m close to getting it just right, and so I need to stay patient and in some measure of control. I have about three more weeks for this, and that’s plenty of time. Besides, I can always buy her again if I want more time. I call for a car then get up and head out. My secretary tells me where the meeting is supposed to be, this little Italian bistro a few blocks away, and then I head downstairs to get into the waiting car. We drive the short trip to the restaurant and I have to force myself not to think about Aria at all during the drive. I need to concentrate. This deal with Richard is getting dicey. He’s an intense man with an intense fortune, and he’s always playing to win. Everything with him is a

game. He doesn’t care if something is mutually beneficial or not, he just wants to win, whatever he believes winning actually means. That’s just the kind of man Richard is. Nothing else matters to him but the deal, and it’s getting fucking exhausting. This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is, but Richard can’t make it easy. We both stand to profit here, but he wants to make sure his bottom line is the best it can possibly be by pushing back against me. Maybe he thinks I’m weak and ripe for pillaging or some shit, but he’s in for a surprise. The driver drops me out front and I head inside. Richard is at a booth toward the center of the restaurant, and I head over to him. He smiles and stands as I approach. “Ethan,” he says. “Glad you came.” We shake hands and then sit back down. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say. “Did you see the latest contracts?” he asks, diving right into business. That’s not like him. He seems laser focused today for some reason. He’s normally much more interested in shooting the shit and drinking, but today he’s having only water and a simple sandwich for lunch.

I don’t let that get to me, though. We dive into the contracts and start negotiating clauses. He’s quibbling about the silliest, most worthless shit, and a half hour passes. I almost want to fucking yell at him to get over himself, but I know that’s not productive. The meeting wears on until finally Richard leans back in his seat and orders a whisky from the waitress. I can tell that he’s done discussing and so am I. Richard is an arrogant bastard, but I want this deal to go through. It’d be damn good for both of us. But I can’t keep doing this. “What are we doing here, Richard?” I ask him. “What do you mean?” “From the start of this, you don’t seem like you want this deal to happen. Do you really give a shit about lighting renovations?” He watches me for a second, a small smile on his face. “No,” he admits, although just ten minutes earlier he was trying to get a clause in the contract that states we can’t change lighting fixtures for two years to “preserve his brand,” which is utter shit. I sigh and lean back in my seat, at least happy to get some truth from him. “Okay then. Tell me what

you want.” The waitress comes back with his drink and he grins at me, taking a swig. He leans forward toward me, that grin still on his face. “I’ve been reading about you for years, Ethan,” he says. I raise an eyebrow. “So?” I ask. “Business reporters love to make shit up.” “Sure, sure. They really do. But to be completely honest with you, Ethan, it’s been pissing me off. A lot. For a long time.” “You’re angry that the media is covering me?” “No,” he says, laughing. “No, I’m angry that they’re covering you and not me. I used to be the young hotshot, you know. Everything they say about you, they used to say about me.” “They still write about you all the time,” I say softly, beginning to get a bad feeling. “Never good. Not anymore. They’re biased against me.” “So, what? You have a grudge against the media and you’re taking it out on me?” He shrugs. “More or less. I also don’t like you, Ethan. I think you’re an arrogant piece of shit with no talent and no experience. You come from

nothing because you are nothing.” I stare at him for a second then slide out of the booth. “We’re done here. You can keep your building. Good luck trying to pay for it.” “Wait,” he says. “I have something you want to hear.” “I think I’m done listening to your shit, Richard.” I turn to leave. “That was quite the performance she threw,” Richard says, and I pause. “Dresses all over the street? How much money did she throw out your window?” I slowly turn back toward him, wrestling to keep my face straight. “What are you talking about?” “Sit back down,” he says softly. I hesitate. I hate to do what he tells me, but I know this could be very bad for me. I don’t know how much he has or how he even knows about Aria’s tantrum. I sit down slowly, prepared to listen. If he has pictures, I’m fucked. I don’t know how I can explain that one away. It won’t ruin me, of course, but I can’t afford a scandal right now. Not when we’re in the middle of intense negotiations and a merger. They could still walk away, and all of

this work, plus millions of dollars, would be wasted. My reputation probably wouldn’t recover. I watch him, keeping a level head, trying to remain cool. I wasn’t about to panic or freak out, not now. I can’t show weakness to this man. He’ll pounce the moment I show even the slightest hesitation. “What do you think you know?” I ask him, not breaking eye contact. “I know that you have a woman living in your house,” he says. “I don’t know who this woman is, since we unfortunately didn’t get a picture of her, which is curious in itself. But she recently decided to throw a very public and very loud tantrum. Does that sound right?” “So you don’t know anything,” I say. He smiles. “I know what you’re thinking right now, Ethan. You’re thinking, maybe I don’t have pictures. Maybe you’re safe.” He leans toward me, his smile getting bigger. “You’re not safe. Not at all.” I watch him, restraining myself from striking out at him. “Proof,” I say. He holds up his phone. There’s a picture of my house with clothing lying in the street.

“See?” he asks. “How do you have this?” “I hired someone to watch you, of course,” he says. “Well, a few someones. I do this with every person I enter into negotiations with. Comes in handy.” “You’ve been following me,” I say flatly. “My people have, yes. And they got some good shots.” My heart is hammering in my chest but I do my best not to show him. “What do you want?” I ask. “Lighting. Statues. Carpeting. Any little fucking thing I want. Understand?” He wants my fucking balls in the palm of his hand, that’s what he wants. He doesn’t care about anything else but that. “We’ll talk,” I say and stand. “We won’t talk. You’ll do as I say or I’ll leak this. Plus the nice video.” “Set up another meeting with my secretary.” I turn and quickly walk away. If I sat there any longer, I would have given in to him. I know it. I would do it just to protect my company, but also to protect Aria. Her tantrum did cause some issues, and I can only imagine how this

is going to snowball. It’s not entirely her fault. She couldn’t have known what her actions would do. She’s a good person and just wanted a little attention. But now she’s going to have to deal with the consequences.

16

ARIA

I

stretch lazily, watching some daytime television show. It’s not even good, but I can’t help myself. The day is moving so slow after Ethan stopped in this morning and I feel antsy already. I can’t wait to see him again. I don’t know when that’ll be, but I hope it’s sooner rather than later. I can feel something beginning between us, and I can’t exactly say what it is. This life has been strange. Everything seems to have led me here, from living with my abusive piece of shit father to running away and becoming a junky. Now I’m trying to get my life together and I’m given to Ethan, a man that can easily save me. But I don’t know if I want to be saved. I want to

put myself back together, not be fixed by some man. I know he could do it, and could do it easily, but I don’t know if that’s what I want. Maybe it’s better if I don’t let myself get too close. Maybe it’s better if I stay here, quietly and obediently, and just do whatever he asks whenever he asks. I simply don’t get too close and when this is all over, we can go our separate ways. I know I’m fooling myself. That feeling is still inside of me, growing and getting deeper every time I’m around him. I know that soon it’ll consume me, and I’ll be unable to stop myself. I know it, deep down inside, but I can’t admit it to myself. Not yet, at least. My thoughts drift in and out of consciousness as I sit there and watch television. It’s around one in the afternoon, maybe a little after, but I’m not really sure. Lunch came and went already, so I know it’s past noon at least. As I’m sitting there, I suddenly hear the elevator doors ding open down the hall. That usually means that Jenkins is coming to drop something off, but I didn’t call him. I perk up, curious. There’s a knock at the door and then it opens. My heart nearly leaps from my chest.

It’s him. I know it’s him. Nobody else barges into my room like that. Ethan comes around the corner. “Hey,” I say, standing. His face is intense and I can’t read his expression. He looks angry. His normally pristine clothing looks rumpled, like he walked quickly to get here or something, and he’s breathing fast. His eyes pierce into mine, and for a second, I’m afraid. He walks right up to me without saying a word, takes my hips, and kisses me. I melt into the kiss, surprised as hell. He pulls me tight against him and I wrap my arms around his muscular neck. He kisses me hard, his tongue against mine and I lose myself in it, instantly knowing I needed this. It’s like I’m dreaming. All day long I’ve been sitting around, thinking about him, wondering what he’s doing and now here he is, barging into my room and kissing me. It’s exactly what I wanted. I don’t know why he’s here, since he’s normally working around now, but I can’t complain. He grabs the hem of my top and pulls it up over my head. He kisses my neck, his hands on my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the thin cotton panties

I’m wearing beneath my shorts are totally soaked through now. “You’ve been a bad fucking girl,” he says softly. “I have,” I agree. “You don’t know the half of it.” His right hand drifts down between my legs and I gasp as he finds my pussy. He’s being fast and rough, and it seems very unlike him. But I like it. God, I like it. I needed this from him. The teasing, the seduction, it was pushing me too far. I needed him to take me like this. His fingers press up inside of me and I moan as he kisses me again, stroking my pussy, sliding out then kneading my clit with his thumb. I groan as he takes my hair and tips my head back. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that, girl?” he asks. “You’re my pet but you’ve misbehaved.” “I want to be good,” I moan. “I’m sorry, Ethan.” “I know you’re sorry. But I’ll fix it.” I can barely think. I don’t know what he’s talking about. All I can focus on are his fingers sliding in and out of my aching pussy, pushing me to my limits. What does he mean, he’ll fix it? I don’t understand,

but I also don’t think I care that much. He steers me toward the bed, hand in my hand, other hand between my legs, lips against mine, and I’m barely thinking, I’m barely present for anything but the pleasure rocking its way down my spine. He suddenly pushes me backwards and I topple down onto the bed. He grabs my soft cotton shorts and pulls them from my skin, tossing them aside, before dropping to his knees. He shoves his head between my legs, spreading my knees wide, and tongues my useless panties. “Ethan,” I gasp. He takes my panties and pulls them down, letting them slip onto the ground, forgotten. He returns to my pussy, this time with his tongue against my clit, sucking and licking like he did before. But there’s an intensity and a passion there that he didn’t have before. I can barely take it as he slides two fingers deep inside of me. “Ethan,” I moan again. “You’re going to make me come.” “Is that so bad?” He smirks at me as he slides his fingers deep. I grab his hair. “Maybe that’s all you deserve. A nice fat orgasm.” “I don’t know what I deserve,” I moan.

“You deserve worse. Much worse. But today, your punishment is this.” I toss my head back as he goes back to sucking my clit, fingers sliding in and out, and I can barely stand it. As I feel the orgasm slowly building inside of me, my whole body tense and twitching, itching for him, begging for him, he slowly pulls his fingers from my pussy and licks them. I look down at him, surprised, and he stands, smirking at me. “Did you really think you were getting off so easy?” He laughs and unbuttons his shirt. “No, you don’t get to come so easily today, Aria. Today, I’m going to have my fun.” My heart is hammering as he finishes taking his shirt off. His body is muscular and toned, lean and perfect as he takes off his pants and steps out of his slacks. I watch him, pulse pounding in my cunt, as he lays out his clothing over the back of a chair before stepping out of his boxer briefs. I marvel at his thick, long cock as he stands in front of me, stroking himself. I lean forward to take him in my hand and mouth, but he pushes me back down, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder. “I told you,” he whispers. “Today, I’m taking you.

Today I’m having my fun.” “Oh shit, Ethan,” I moan as I feel his cock press against me. He slowly slides inside of me before thrusting once, pressing his whole cock deep between my legs. I toss my head back and moan, gripping the sheets. Exquisite pain rips through me as his thick cock fills my tight pussy. He moves my legs from his shoulders then grabs my hair and pulls me toward him, kissing my lips with a passion that I can barely understand. He slides me further onto the bed and follows me up there, spreading my legs wide, kneeling with his cock inside of me. I put my hands on his chest as he slowly begins to work himself in and out. I can’t believe I can even take him, and I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been aching for it for so long now, for what feels like forever, and this happened so suddenly. I can’t stop to think about it, though, because he feels too good, smells too good, tastes too good. Everything is too much and I’m drowning in pleasure. He rips into me, grabbing my hip with one hand and my hair with the other, his body hot against mine. I’m sweating but it doesn’t matter. All I care about is this moment as I work my hips against him. The pain gives way to pleasure, an ecstasy I’ve never imagined to ask for.

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling me over and sliding out of me. He lays onto his back, pulling me over on top of him. I straddle him and stare at his cock, biting my lip. “I don’t know how,” I say. “Sure you do. Move your fucking hips.” He slaps my ass, hard. “No, I mean, how this fits.” He grins at me. “Find out.” I take him in my hand then slowly slide down his length. I gasp and shudder as he fills me. He takes my hips and pulls me down, sliding me the rest of the way. I’m dripping wet and he glides into me so easily. I start to move my hips, riding him, hands on his chest, breasts pressed together. “That’s right,” he grunts. “Ride that fucking cock, Aria. Show me how badly you want it.” “I want it,” I pant, working hard. “I need it. God, Ethan, I need it.” “I know you do, pet,” he says softly. “I want to feel you come on this cock. I want to watch your face while you do it. And then I’m going to fucking fill you.” He grabs my hair and pulls me down, kissing me hard.

I keep riding, not letting up, working his cock. I should be thinking about pleasing him, about making this a good experience for him, but I can’t. I should be thinking about being his escort and not his pet, but I am his pet and I know it. All I can think about is working my hips, getting pleasure, getting more. He grabs my ass then slaps it hard, pulling me down and thrusting into me. He rocks hard into me, the sweet slap of his cock slamming into my pussy filling the room. He grunts and keeps at it, fucking me rough, like a fucking animal. “God damn,” he grunts, and pushes me off him. He gets onto his knees, grabs my hips, and turns me around. I spread my legs wide for him, ass in the air, as he thrusts deep into my pussy. “That’s right,” he grunts. “This is what I wanted. This round ass sliding down my fucking cock. You know how perfect you are?” He fucks me and I rock my hips back against him, slamming back into his thrusts. Sweat drips down my skin as he slaps his hand into my ass cheek, sending tingles of pain and pleasure rolling down my spine. “Do it again,” I moan, surprising myself.

I can hear the grin in his voice. “Beg for it.” “Please,” I say, tossing my hair aside and looking at him over my shoulder. “Slap my ass harder.” He lets out a groan and does it, slapping my ass hard. I toss my head back in pure pleasure as he slams into me deeper. I work back harder, fingers curled into the sheets and pressing into the mattress. “Again,” I say. “Please. Again.” He slaps my ass again, palm flat into my skin. He does it again, and again. And I know there’s a bright red handprint on my cheek. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, slamming into me mercilessly, and I can feel the orgasm building. He slaps my other cheek, nice and hard, before reaching around my hip to find my clit. I writhe back against him, working along his thick cock, as he works my clit while he fucks me. “That’s it,” I moan. “Ethan. I’m so close. Please, let me come.” “You want to come on this cock?” he asks. “You want to come for me, you dirty fucking girl? You’re my pet, Aria. You’re my fucking pet with your tight little pussy and your perfect fucking hips. Beg for my permission.”

“Please. Oh god, please. I need it. I need it so badly. Please let me come.” I can feel it building. He’s not slowing down, just keeps fucking me, working my clit. I know I’m going to come and there’s nothing stopping it. “Oh fuck,” I moan nice and deep. “Come for me,” he grunts, fucking me, working me. I come hard, the orgasm exploding through my mind. My body tenses and releases, pleasure rocking through my skin. I don’t know how I can even stand it, there’s just so much pleasure rolling along my spine, and I think I black out for a second. Not long after, or maybe it’s forever, he’s still fucking me. He releases my clit and grabs my hips, slamming deep into me. He’s relentless, and it feels so fucking good. “God damn, girl,” he groans. “I’m going to fill this cunt up. Is that what you want?” “Yes,” I groan, working my hips, getting into it. “Come inside me. Go ahead. I want it. I want to feel it.” “Fuck,” he grunts, and I can feel him. He comes

deep inside my pussy, and I keep moving, working my hips, sliding along his length. I want him to come hard, and his hands dig into my flesh. Finally, we collapse into the bed together. He wraps his arms around my body and pulls me tight against him, breathing into my hair. “Fuck, girl,” he says softly. “You are my pet.” “I am,” I say, nuzzling up against his chest. We’re naked and sweating and this is where I want to be, the perfect place to be. He holds me tight, and our breathing synchronizes. I lose all sense of time with him there, and it’s perfect. We’re one together, floating in the post-sex haze of orgasm, and I can’t believe how content I feel. I’ve never felt this way before, not with anybody. I don’t know how Ethan makes me feel this way, but he does, and it’s incredible. It’s also a little terrifying, but I’m not thinking about it too much. I don’t want to think about what happens after this month, or really about what happens five minutes from now. I just want to enjoy this moment, perfect and right and good. This is all I need or want.

17

ETHAN

I

breathe in her smell and feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m so tired, so exhausted, and I feel so content and comfortable lying in bed with her, still covered in sweat. I didn’t plan this. Frankly, I didn’t know what I was going to do when I saw her. Part of me wanted to throw her out and never see her again, but I knew I couldn’t do that. Not really, not even in my deepest anger. This issue with Richard isn’t going to go away, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t take it out on Aria. I never told her that we had to be subtle and quiet. I told her that I was going to spoil her and that she could do anything she wanted, more or less, and then I

neglected her. I deserve what I’m getting, but I won’t make that same mistake twice. I won’t take this out on her, because she doesn’t deserve it. I run my fingers down her back and she shivers. “That feels good,” she says softly. “Yeah?” I softly rub her back. “What else feels good?” “Everything,” she says, laughing, and looks up at me. “Why are you here?” “Decided to take off work today.” “Oh,” she says. “I’m glad you did.” “Me too.” I laugh lightly. “I didn’t plan that, you know.” “That’s okay,” she says. “I didn’t mind.” “I’m sure you didn’t. But I’m usually more...” “In control?” she finishes. “Exactly. But with you, it’s different.” “Why?” She sits up and looks at me, hair spilling down around us. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. She smiles and looks away. “That makes me happy,

either way.” “I want to get to know you.” “What do you want to know?” she asks. “Your childhood.” “Not much to say.” She shrugs a little bit. “I grew up with my dad. Mom died when I was really young.” “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.” “Maybe. I don’t know. I never knew her. But I did know a string of nannies.” I laugh softly. “You were rich?” “My father is. When I ran away from home, I left all that.” “Why did you leave?” She frowns and lies back down in my arms. I wrap them around her and pull her tight against me. “You’d understand if you knew my father. He’s a hard man to be around.” “I know something about hard men.” She glances up at me. “Was that a penis joke?” “Not at all,” I say, laughing. “I have more tact and

better timing than that.” “Sure you do.” She looks skeptical and we laugh together. She lays her head back down on my chest. “Dad meant well I think, but he pushed really hard. He’s a little famous in the city, actually. I’d rather not say who he is, but that fame was part of it.” “Part of what?” I ask softly. “The pressure. To be perfect. He wanted me to take over his business one day, but I had no interest in it. And then when I ran away and got into drugs, that basically killed him. He disowned me, not exactly, but more or less. I don’t see or speak with him anymore. And I don’t want to.” I grunt, understanding. I can see how having a father like that would be very, very difficult. I can also see why maybe she turned to drugs. It was a rebellious thing at first, but also a way to feel good. When you’re rich, it’s hard to really feel things, because everything is taken care of for you. Maybe she was trying to find a little bit of that, but went way too far. “Do you ever want to see him again?” I ask. “Not at all. He was... abusive,” she says. “Abusive?”

She looks at me again. “I don’t want to be that cliché hooker with daddy issues, okay? It’s just, he didn’t hit me, but he tortured me. He was merciless and cutting, and I had to get out of there. So no, I don’t want to see him ever again.” I kiss her softly on the forehead. “Thanks for telling me that,” I say. “It’s weird. I haven’t talked about him in a while.” I smile and kiss her again. “I’m happy you feel comfortable talking about it with me.” “You’re supposed to be a client...” She trails off, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” “I’m not supposed to tell you this stuff. The Syndicate, they gave us some, I don’t know, training. I’m supposed to be mysterious and alluring for you.” She laughs lightly. “How am I doing?” “Perfect,” I say. “You’re perfect.” “My last name is Taylor,” she says. “I don’t know why I wanted you to know that. I just did, I guess.” I grin ear to ear, and have no clue why that makes me so happy. I kiss her again, not sure what else to do, and hold her tight.

I want to know her, and having her open up to me makes me happier than I would have guessed. It’s strange, sharing this sort of intimacy with someone that I supposedly own, but I don’t feel like I own her. Not right now, at least. Her guard is down and I believe everything she’s saying. I believe that she feels something, maybe something like what I feel, although I’m not exactly sure what that is yet. I believe she’s a good person and wants to do right. And I know I’ve seduced her. All of that, it was real. She wanted it as much as I did, if not more. She wanted me to fuck her and to make her come and she would have done it, money or no money. I should feel good that I won my game, but I don’t. I just feel like there’s another game coming, and this one might be even better.

18

ARIA

”P

lay it again.”

In my dream, he stands over me like a phantom. His eyes are a furious red like I always imagined them to be, though I know they’re really just brown. His brows knit as I raise the violin to my chin again and prepare to play it all over. In my dream, I know that I’ve been standing there and playing for hours. My fingers are bloody and torn to shreds, but daddy doesn’t care. I’m nine years old and I should be a prodigy by now, but I’m not. According to daddy, if I’m not the best at what I do, I’m not worth anything. And so I play it again. I go through the notes, playing as best as I possibly can considering blood

runs down the strings, but that doesn’t matter to him. He simply sits there, smoking a cigar and watching me. I don’t look at his face, because I know what I’ll see if I do. When I finish, he stands and walks over to me. He slaps the violin from my hands and growls. “Pathetic,” he says. “What the fuck am I paying these teachers for if you can’t play right?” I cower away from him, waiting for him to hit me, but the blow never comes. It never does. He hit me once, out of anger, but not since then. Still, he threatens it all the time, and I believe he’ll do it if I give him a real reason to. “I’m sorry, daddy,” I whimper. “Sorry isn’t going to make you better, girl,” he says. “How the fuck are you going to take over everything I’m building if you can’t even master one instrument? It’s not even a fucking hard one, for fuck’s sake.” He stalks away and I collapse onto the floor, sobbing. He stands by the bar with a glass in his hand. He always has a glass in his hand. He’s a drunk, a mean stupid drunk, and I hate him. In the dream, which is also a memory, I know that he’s a piece of shit but I can’t do anything about it.

I’m just a little girl and I still love him. I barely see him anymore, and when I do, it’s always painful, but he’s still a towering figure in my life. I want to live up to him. I believe everything he tells me. I believe every bit of pressure he puts on me. I feel it weighing on me every night, and every night I cry myself to sleep because I’m such a disappointment. “Maybe I’ll leave you too,” he sneers at me. “Just like your mother left you. She knew you were pathetic garbage. Do you want me to leave you?” “No!” I cry out, terrified. “Good,” he says. “Play it again.” I stand up and retrieve the violin. One of the strings is broken but I know I can’t say anything about it. I retrieve my bow and stand before him, ready to play. He nods and I raise my instrument. He loves it. I can see through him in my dream, into his mind, and I know he loves this. He loves pushing me, prodding me, seeing how far he can go. Threatening to leave is his favorite little game, especially when he gets to tell me how my mother thought I wasn’t worth being around. It’s impossible to imagine what that does to a little girl, the sort of incredible heartbreaking sadness it instills inside of her. It’s the sort of madness that

she’ll turn to drugs to numb when she turns into a woman. But for now, all I know how to do is play. I strike the first note as my father advances on me, grinning his evil grin, stinking of gin and looking to humiliate me some more. I wake up sweating and he’s there in my bed. I swat at him, trying to get away, terrified of him. He’s coming and he’s going to keep making me play. “Aria!” His hands gently catch my wrists and I’m breathing so fast, but that’s not his voice, and I’m not a little girl. I’m an adult woman. I’m in Ethan’s home, in his bed, and I’m safe. I’m far away from my father. “It’s okay,” he says. “Shh, it’s okay.” Ethan takes me in his arms and pulls me against him. “Ethan,” I say. “I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay. It’s very okay.” He holds me and rocks me until my trembling slowly subsides. “I heard you screaming,” he says once I’m calmer. “I came in to check on you.” “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I’m fine though.”

I pull back from him and wipe the hair from my face, trying to smile. He doesn’t need this sort of thing in his life, not with the kind of stress he’s under. He doesn’t need some pathetic girl with horrible scars screaming in the middle of the night and waking him up. The dream lingers and part of me thinks I’m still that pathetic little girl destined to fail. But I know that I’m not. I ran away and tried to destroy my demons with heroin, but that only made the demons so much worse. In the end, I’m destroying my demons through hard work, but they’re not all gone. Not yet at least. “Do you have nightmares often?” he asks I shake my head. “Not for years. I... I used to.” I laugh softly. “I’m sorry. I’m really embarrassed.” “It’s okay,” he says. “Really. For a second there, I thought you were being murdered.” “I’m safe and sound,” I say more for myself. He nods and studies me for a second, putting his hand on my face. It’s warm and feels good. I lean into it, smiling. “Can I ask you what the dream was about?” I look at him, a little surprised. He quickly goes on. “That’s helped me, in the past. Talking about the

horrible dreams.” “You have nightmares?” “I used to. Back when my company started growing faster than I was ready for. I was under a lot of pressure back then.” He laughs a little bit. “I used to dream about drowning every night. My peers and employees would be standing outside of a giant fish tank, laughing as I drowned. It was pretty bad.” “Sounds awful,” I say. “If you want to tell me about it, I’ll listen. I understand if you don’t.” I pause, thinking. I’ve never told anyone about the dreams before. I’ve woken others up with my screaming, but I always just make some excuse and pretend like it’s no big deal. I thought I was past this, but apparently not. “I shouldn’t have asked,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” “No,” I say. “I want to tell you.” “Are you sure?” I nod and take a deep breath. “I played violin when I was a little girl. My father, sometimes he’d get drunk and watch me practice. Once he made me

practice for hours, the same song over and over until my fingers bled. He would tell me that I’m a disappointment and that’s why my mother died. I dream about that afternoon sometimes, and in my dream I know that my father wants to humiliate me and destroy me, but I can’t help it. I’m a little girl again.” He shakes his head, frowning. “Is that true?” I nod. “It’s true. It happened. It’s... part of why I ran away. Why I turned to drugs.” “I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “That’s horrible.” “I think he meant well at first. But as the years passed, he became bitter, and started taking it out on me. I was just a little girl so I didn’t understand. My father was a towering figure in my life. He was everything to me. When he said I was a failure, I believed him.” I look away from Ethan, trying not to cry. “I stopped playing violin after that afternoon. I refused. He never hit me, but he yelled a lot. The yelling was worse.” “I can relate to that.” I look at him, surprised. He pulls away and lies down next to me, hands behind his head, looking up at the top of the canopy. “My father thought computers were for sissies and

pussies,” he says. “His biggest dream in life was for me to join him working at the police department.” He glances at me and grins. “My father is a cop, by the way.” “I had no clue.” “I don’t talk about it. My dad was a grade-A asshole and still is. We don’t really talk much. My mother is okay, but she didn’t really do much to stop my father from being a dick. He was constantly talking down to me, constantly telling me that I was a pussy and a piece of shit for sitting in front of my computer all the time.” He sighs, trailing off. “That’s hard. When your parents don’t believe in you.” “There was other stuff, too,” he says softly. “He tried to toughen me up.” “How?” I ask, lying next to him. I put my hand on his chest. “Beat the shit out of me,” he says. “He’d be hitting me, saying it’s for my own good, although I’m pretty sure he just liked doing it. But all that abuse just made me more driven to get the fuck out of there.” “I can understand that,” I say.

“I got lucky. My company worked and shit took off for me. But if I stayed in that house much longer, my father would have killed me, or I would have killed him. There was no happy ending for me there.” “But you got out.” He nods and looks at me. “You did too.” “Yeah, I guess so.” He takes my hand and squeezes. “Hey. We both got out.” “You’re right.” I curl up next to him, my head on his chest. “We did.” I close my eyes as we lapse into silence. I don’t want to push him for more of his story, but I can imagine it. I lived some of it, I bet. It’s amazing that he ended up here and I ended up here too, but we took such different paths. Similar beginnings, but such different choices and events. I can feel sleep tugging me down, and I want to resist it since he’s still here, but I can’t. All I hear is his breath and his heartbeat thumping slowly in my ear. It’s comforting, and when I finally go back under, I don’t dream anymore. It’s just peaceful and calm. There’s nothing else.

19

ETHAN

I

glance at my agenda and sigh. The day is nearly over and yet I feel like I haven’t gotten a damn thing done. I’ve been feeling like this ever since Aria came into my life, but I know it’s not her fault. I’m just distracted by her. Last night, I fell asleep in her bed. I told myself I wasn’t going to do that, but it happened. When I heard her screaming, I thought something horrible was happening. Instead, I ended up opening up about my life. I never talk about my father, not with anyone. It’s not that I’m ashamed, or not exactly, but I just can’t stand people feeling any sort of pity for me. I survived it and got the fuck out of there, and that’s

all I care about. I still speak with my mother maybe once a month. I paid off their house, despite my father asking me not to, and bought them a new car. But that’s the extent of it. I’d give them more, take care of them for life only because they’re my parents, but my father made it clear that he doesn’t want my help. Too proud or too stupid, I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m moving on past all of this. But I understand what Aria is going through. I used to dream of my father and the beatings he’d give me, all for my own good, all because he wanted me to toughen up. Of course, he was beating on a fourteen-year-old boy, but that didn’t matter to him. I was a sissy because I was good with computers and I was smart, and no son of his was going to be a sissy. As soon as I turned sixteen and hit a growth spurt, the beatings stopped. Mostly because I got big enough to fight back and defend myself. He didn’t want to risk getting hurt. But the emotional abuse never stopped, not until the day I left that house and never looked back. I’m not a weak man. I don’t let that shit define me or hold me back. I’m not some fucking victim. But I can’t pretend like it didn’t happen. I was just a kid

and I didn’t know any better. I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. And I’m not, not exactly at least. I mostly just don’t want people defining me by my past. Everything I’ve accomplished since then is so much more important to me, and I don’t want to become the abused kid that made it big. Maybe it was dangerous to tell Aria that story. She could easily turn around and sell it to some tabloid. The Syndicate would probably have something to say about that, but that wouldn’t really stop her, not if she was really determined. She could make a nice chunk of money and disappear. But I know she wouldn’t do that. What she told me last night was real, very real. She couldn’t fake the screaming or the emotion that I saw plainly on her face. She understands what I went through, just like I understand what she went through, and I know she’d never betray my trust. Just like I’d never betray hers. The unspoken bond between us sends strange shivers down my spine. I never imagined feeling... whatever this is. It’s an attachment, that’s for sure, a very powerful bond that I don’t entirely understand yet. There’s so much between us already, and we have so much in common, that I can barely believe it.

My secretary buzzes my phone suddenly, snapping me out of my haze. I hit a button. “Yes?” I ask, getting myself back into the moment. “Richard Taylor on line two,” she says. I pause. “Thanks,” I say, before picking up the phone and hitting a button. “Richard,” I say. “Hello.” “How are you doing, Ethan?” I pause, wondering how to proceed. Do I pretend like the blackmail never happened? “I’m fine,” I say. “Have you thought about our last conversation?” There it is. I was waiting for that. I wonder how direct he’ll be over the phone. “I have,” I say. “And?” “And it doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice in this situation, does it?” “No,” he says, and I can hear the joy in his voice. “That’s the point though, of course.” “Send over your next round of contracts.”

“I will. I’ll be reasonable, Ethan. I’ll go easy on you.” “For both our sakes, Richard. Remember, you need this deal as much as I do.” “That’s true,” he says, laughing. “That’s very true. Well, I’m glad you came to your senses. We’re both going to be rich and happy men soon.” “I suspect you’ll be richer and happier,” I say. “Of course. That’s the game, isn’t it?” He laughs and then hangs up the phone. I stare at my receiver before hanging it back up. I feel fucking sick to my stomach all of a sudden, and although I have more work to do, I know I’m done for the day. It’s around five anyway, and there’s no shame in leaving at a normal time for once. I’ll go home, check on Aria, eat something, and then work from my home office for a few more hours. With that plan in mind, I stand up and head out, trying to shake the sinking feeling I have in my stomach. Richard Taylor has me over a fucking barrel, and he’s going to take advantage of this. People are going to wonder why I took this fucking deal when inevitably I do, and it’s going to look very bad. This is a losing situation for me, and I have to find some way out of it.

The car gets me home quickly and I’m optimistic as I climb out and head up the stoop. I’ve been ignoring this Richard thing, or at least I’ve been trying to. I’ve been using Aria to help distract me from the fucked up shit that’s happening all around me, and she’s been doing a damn good job. But as soon as I open the door, I know something’s up. The house is normally quiet, and usually Jenkins is there immediately to greet me. Instead, I hear hushed voices coming from the kitchen, and there’s nobody around. I don’t mind if they’re busy. That’s fine. Hell, I don’t even care if they’re just standing around and chatting and didn’t know I was coming in. But that just never happens. Jenkins is always on top of things, probably because the driver normally calls ahead. This time though, as I walk down the hall and into the great room, I know something is amiss. Jenkins is standing in the kitchen with a tall, thin, striking woman, maybe in her late forties. She has black hair pulled back in a tight bun and her red lipstick makes her pale skin that much more intense. She wears a loose black dress and her eyes flit to mine as soon as I’m in the room. Jenkins, for his part, looks utterly embarrassed. “Sir,” he says quickly, rushing toward me. “I’m so sorry. I was distracted by this, this woman.”

“It’s okay, Jenkins,” I say. “But who is she?” “Ethan Locks,” the woman says, speaking over Jenkins and walking toward me with her hand extended. “My name is Lucille and I’m with The Syndicate. We need to talk.” I take her hand and shake, but the world feels like it dips and disappears around me. I knew The Syndicate would come and check on Aria, but they assured me it would be discreet. They said they wouldn’t even be seen or noticed by me or anyone in my staff. They assured me that they’re professionals, and that they do this all the time. If this woman is from The Syndicate and she’s here, in my home, speaking with my butler, then something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. She shouldn’t be here. I feel like the world is spinning around me as fear for Aria spikes through my body.

20

ARIA

W

hen I wake up, he’s gone. That doesn’t surprise me. But what surprises me is that he slept in my bed all night, and only left during the early hours of the morning. I woke up when he left, but only briefly. He slipped out of the bed and for a second, I thought it was a dream. But hours later, when I’m fully awake, I know that it wasn’t a dream. He really slept in the bed with me, our bodies intertwined and cuddling. That’s the most intimate thing we’ve done together, and I can hardly describe and explain how happy it makes me feel to know that he was willing to stay with me. He opened up to me. I stretch, smiling to myself. He really opened up. That story about his father is

horrible, and reminds me so much of myself. I didn’t know that we had this much in common, but clearly we grew up in similar circumstances. He knows pain and suffering in the same way that I do, which almost scares me. But it shouldn’t scare me, I know that. I should be elated, and I am. This is what I want, what I’ve always wanted from a man. This level of intimacy was never something I ever pictured could happen for me. I assumed I was always doomed to push men away and to live my life alone. Maybe that doesn’t have to be the case. Maybe there’s something more happening here. He finally fucked me, finally held me, finally made me his. Everything should be perfect. So why do I still feel like there’s something missing? He still owns me. At the end of the day, that’s the truth. He owns me and there’s nothing either of us can do about it. No matter what happens between us, it’s only happening because he bought me. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Him opening up was real. And the way I’m feeling is real. But I don’t know what any of that means, how long any of it will last, because of our situation. It’s inherently messed up.

I wish I could just tell him that I want him to get his money back. Or that I will donate all my money to a charity or something, if it just means that we can have something beyond this exchange of value. I want him for real, not as some man that bought me and keeps me as his pet. I want something real. I want whatever happened last night to keep happening. I’m afraid that it was just a moment of weakness for him, and as soon as we wake up, the spell will be over. It’s impossible to say one way or the other. The day drags on. Jenkins brings me lunch and I don’t hear from Ethan at all. I keep thinking about him, of course, but I just keep doing what I always do. I’m confused and trying to figure all of this out, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m still stuck in this room, waiting for him to come to me. I know he will, or at least I feel that he will deep down inside of me. He’ll come and we’ll talk. And we’ll make this real. I’ll give up the money. Forget about the money. Sure, it’s a life-changing amount, but I’d give it all up for the chance at something real and lasting and good. It’s a crazy thought, giving up millions, but I can’t

help but seriously consider it. Maybe if I told him that, he’d break the contract and we could try this seriously. I don’t know if he’d even want that, though. The whole point of buying me is that it’s temporary and there aren’t any feelings involved. Feelings are involved now, though. I can’t say what they are or what they mean, but they’re there and I can’t stop them. The day wears on and soon it’s around five. Normally, Jenkins is very prompt with my dinner, but today something is different. He brings it at five on the dot, which is way too early for me, but I haven’t really complained. Today though, it’s five thirty and there’s still nothing. I shrug and figure maybe he’s finally figuring out that five is too early for a healthy young lady like myself. Around five forty-five, Jenkins appears knocking at the door. He hustles the dinner cart inside, looking stressed and worried. I stand up and head toward him. “Evening,” he says. “Your dinner is served.” “Wait,” I say as he turns to leave. “Is everything okay?” He cocks his head at me. “I think you know all

about that already,” he says with such vile scorn that it really surprises me. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” “Your little Syndicate is downstairs talking with Mr. Locks right now. And you pretend like you don’t know. I know you text them every day.” He makes a face like he smells shit. But my head is spinning too much to pay attention to that. “Wait, The Syndicate is talking with him?” I ask. “Why would that happen?” He narrows his eyes. “You don’t know?” “I have no clue.” I step toward him. “You have to let me down there. I have to see Ethan.” He considers for a moment then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Absolutely not. You’ve been enough trouble already.” “Jenkins, please,” I plead. “I can’t stay up here. I didn’t know they were coming and that can’t be good. Let me down there.” “No,” he says, and turns to leave again. I leap forward and take his hand. He rears back, shocked, his face a mask of disgust and outrage. “Please,” I say again. “You have to let me go

down.” “No, and kindly never touch me again.” He turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I stare at the shut door, shocked and terrified. The Syndicate said they’d never make contact with Ethan unless they absolutely had to. That was only meant to be a last and worst-case scenario. They’re supposed to discreetly check up on me and act invisible. But if they’re here, something is wrong, something is very wrong. I can’t just stay in this room. I have to go down there. I take a deep breath and then open the door, heading out into the hall. I march toward the stairs and head down, not slowing, and not taking no for an answer. I’ll have a say in this, whatever it is. I can’t let this real thing slip through my fingers, not now, not when it’s so close.

21

ETHAN

L

ucille from The Syndicate sits across from me on the sofa, her back very straight. She sips from the cup of tea that Jenkins brought us on a tray. Jenkins disappeared soon after I came back. I had to remind him to take dinner up to Aria, mostly just to get him out of the room. I don’t want him listening in on this conversation. “I’m sorry to come here like this, Mr. Locks,” she says. “Please, call me Ethan.” I frown at her. “I assume there’s a problem.” She nods slowly. “There is a problem, Ethan. I’m very sorry about all this.”

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for yet.” She looks a little uncomfortable, but she’s hiding it well. Clearly she’s used to dealing with this sort of thing, but whatever she has to say she doesn’t like. “It’s an, ah, unusual situation,” she says. “We don’t typically sell the girls for more than a couple weeks. One month is a long time.” I shrug. “You agreed at the time.” “You offered a lot of money.” “And you took my money.” I lean toward her. “Are you regretting it?” “Yes, we are,” she says. “Truth is, we shouldn’t have sold you Aria for a month. You’re a new client. There’s normally some kind of short-term trial period.” I cross my arms and watch her for a moment, trying to read her. She looks back impassively, and I get the sense that she’s not telling me the full truth. They didn’t have any issue selling me Aria at the time when I offered them a lot of money. And there haven’t been any problems up to this point. “Have I mistreated her?” I ask. “Has she complained?” “No,” Lucille says, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

“Then you’ll excuse me if I’m trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here.” She looks a little surprised at my forceful tone, which was the point. I want to throw her off balance, make her actually tell me what’s going on here. “We want her back, Ethan,” she says. “We’re willing to refund most of your money as compensation.” “Fuck the money,” I say. She frowns but continues. “Aria will be treated well, of course. She’ll get her payment. Maybe not as much as she would have, but still a generous amount. And we’re willing to offer you another girl to finish out your month-long contract at a very agreeable discount.” I narrow my eyes at her. “So you’re willing to give me another girl, but I can’t have Aria?” “That’s right,” she says. “Aria is new as well. She wasn’t prepared for this level of contract.” “Aria is fine,” I say. “There’s no reason for you to take her back. We’ll finish the contract as we agreed.” “I’m sorry, Ethan. But I’m not allowed to do that.”

“Listen, Lucille. I don’t know why you’re here. You’re giving me these vague excuses, and none of it adds up. You’re clearly lying, or at least you’re keeping something from me. So until you tell me why I should give her up, we’re done here.” I move to stand and she sighs, holding up one hand, her eyes closed. I can tell she’s pained. She’s probably not supposed to tell me the real reason why The Syndicate wants Aria back. It’s probably something embarrassing. The fact that Lucille is here at all is a breach of their decorum. They’re normally incredibly discreet and professional and apparently pride themselves on their efficiency. But sending Lucille here to gather up Aria and to break their contract seems like it’s very out of their character. “Please, I’ll explain.” She looks at me with a frown on her face. “Please, sit.” I slowly sit back down and lean toward her, elbows on my knees. “Go ahead,” I say. “It’s her father,” Lucille admits with a sigh. “He found her. We’re not really sure how, but he’s a rich and powerful man in this city. He’s coming after us and we find it’s best if we simply return the girl to her home and move on.”

“Best for whom?” I ask, anger welling up inside of me. “Best for everyone.” “Not for her. Not for me.” “Please, see reason here. The Syndicate can’t risk exposure. It would be... catastrophic. For everyone involved.” Veiled threats and ass covering, that’s all she’s here to do. The bastards want to steal Aria away from me and to return her to her bastard father, the very man that she ran away from in the first place. I can’t imagine that her father actually wants her back, whoever he is. There’s something else here, a piece of this puzzle that I can’t see. I don’t know what’s being held back, but I can sense it, just there, just out of my grasp. “What’s his name?” I ask Lucille. She pauses. “Who?” “Her father. Who is he?” “I can’t tell you.” I feel a stab run down my veins. It’s a flash of insight that I only understand at a gut level. The

idea isn’t even conscious yet, but I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins. Cold terror runs through me. He’s a powerful man... the kind of man that would come after her if it suits him, not because he wants to... and her last name. I think back to that conversation that night. My face drains of color. Lucille looks concerned. “Ethan? Mr. Locks? Are you okay?” I grab my cup of tea and drink it down. It’s not strong enough, though. I stand and quickly walk into the kitchen where I pour myself a double whisky and slam it back. Lucille follows me, concern clear on her face. “It’s not that bad,” she says. “The Syndicate doesn’t blame you. And her father says he’ll back down if she’s returned.” “What’s his name?” I ask her again. Taylor. Her last name is Taylor. “I can’t say it. Please, don’t ask me again.” She was born rich. Her father was an asshole. “Say it,” I whisper. “Say his name.” I feel like I’m breaking into a thousand pieces, some angry, some confused, some willing to destroy everything to get

what I want. “His name is Taylor,” she says. “Richard Taylor.” I feel it like a knife to my gut. I can’t process this. I can barely think. A new voice cuts into my mind “Ethan?” I look up slowly. Aria is standing in the living room a few feet from Lucille. “What’s going on?” Aria asks. Jenkins comes in from the back room suddenly, breathless. “I’m sorry, sir. I told her to stay in her room.” He walks quickly toward her. “Stop,” I say to Jenkins. “Please leave.” He pauses, looks at me, and then nods. He disappears back into the other room. Lucille turns toward Aria. “Honey. I’m with The Syndicate. I was sent here to take you home.” “Why?” she asks. “Did I do something wrong?” “No,” she says gently. “You did nothing wrong. Something came up though. And we need to bring you back.”

“But I don’t want to go,” she says. “I want to finish my contract.” She looks at me, pleading, and I don’t understand. “You’ll still have to come with me,” Lucille says. “NO.” The two women look at me, clearly surprised. I practically shouted it and I look down at the glass in my hand. My knuckles are white. “Aria,” I say, getting some control. “Please go back upstairs.” “But—“ She starts, but I cut her off. “Go,” I say. “Now.” She hesitates then turns and quickly walks away. She disappears up the staircase and out of sight. Lucille looks back to me. “Mr. Locks, we need her. I can’t leave until she’s ready to go.” “Get out,” I say quietly to her. “Excuse me?” “Get out of my house.” I feel like I’m regaining some control now, though my edges are all frayed. “I can’t do that. I don’t think you understand.”

“I understand,” I growl at her. I walk from behind the counter and move toward her. She backs up, fear on her face at whatever she sees in my expression. “You want to give her back to that fucking monster. And the worst part is, he doesn’t give a fuck about her. It’s just one more slap in my face.” She tries to protest, but I hold up a hand. She continues to back down the hallway and toward the door. “No, don’t argue with me. Richard Taylor is a piece of shit, and he won’t take this away from me. You can go back and tell your Syndicate to go fuck themselves. Aria is mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She stops in front of the door and stares at me, regaining some composure. “You’re making a mistake,” she says. “Get out,” I repeat. “You can have her back when our contract is finished.” “Very well.” Lucille turns, opens the door, and then leaves. I walk back into the kitchen, feeling numb. I pour myself another drink and sip it, standing in front of the sink.

The world feels like it’s filtering in through a very small keyhole. Dimly I’m aware of things, but they flit and shake through my consciousness, though nothing sticks. What is real? How can I ever see the truth now? So much is tangled up in this. Could this have been Richard’s plan from the start? Who is Aria Taylor? I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie as I feel myself perched on the edge of something. The only things keeping me from tipping over is anger. Anger threatens to rip everything else apart. I won’t let Richard win, that fucking bastard. He won’t get the best of me. I won’t let a man like that win. I don’t know who she is, but Aria doesn’t deserve it. I clench my glass and knock the drink back, mind buzzing.

22

ARIA

H

e doesn’t come that night or the next day. I’m not really surprised, but I don’t understand what happened back there. When I walked into the room, he looked at me like I was a total stranger. Like I was a ghost, bursting out of a closet. He was spooked at first. And then he was angry. I don’t understand why The Syndicate wanted to take me back. That woman didn’t explain, only said that something came up, whatever that means. But clearly Ethan wasn’t happy about it, whatever it was. He refused to let them take me. That makes me happy, a strange sort of happiness. He defied The Syndicate, a very powerful group of people, just to keep me. That has to mean something real is

happening between us. But the way he looked at me... it sends shivers down my spine. I don’t understand it. What did that woman say to him that made him look at me with suspicion? When Jenkins brings my breakfast, he doesn’t say a word to me. I try and ask him questions, but he simply acts like I don’t exist. And when he leaves, I hear a click at the door, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that he locked me in. I sit out on the balcony, eating breakfast and trying to figure out what I’m going to do. I can escape any time I want, since it wouldn’t be too hard to climb down the balcony and get to the sidewalk. But I don’t want to leave. I want to know why he looked so disgusted with me. Maybe I can explain. Obviously it has to do with why that Syndicate woman was coming to take me back, but beyond that, I can only guess. And so I spend the day in anxious worry. I guess that I’m being held captive, since the door is locked, but I don’t feel trapped. I know I can get away any time I want. I just don’t understand why Ethan would want to lock me in here when he knows that I won’t leave if he doesn’t want me to.

The day drags past. Jenkins brings lunch as usual and again doesn’t say a word to me. He locks the door on his way out, leaving me there to stew in my uncertainty. I almost want to cause another scene. Ethan shouldn’t leave me here alone without talking to me, especially after what happened last night. He has to know that I’m worried as hell and afraid that something horrible just happened. Instead, I get nothing. The hours wear past until finally, it’s dinnertime, but nothing comes. Five in the afternoon turns to six in the evening, and finally it’s half past seven before I hear the lock at the door finally click open. I stand, dimly planning on yelling at Jenkins, but he’s not the one that walks into my room. It’s Ethan. He pushes a meal cart and stops, wearing his usual suit. He looks at me for a second with a strange look on his face. “Ethan,” I say, stepping toward him. “Let’s eat inside tonight,” he says, and starts to set the table. I frown, wanting to throw myself at him, but I can sense his discomfort. Instead, I help him put the food out. When we’re finished setting up, we both

sit down. He pours himself a drink and then hands me a glass of wine. “About last night,” I say, but he stops me with a shake of his head. “Let’s eat.” I frown and bite my lip then nod. I’m frustrated, but I’ll play along. I don’t want to spook him or anger him any more. I eat, and the food is good, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I can’t keep hanging on the edge of my seat like this. Ethan doesn’t seem particularly interested in broaching the subject. I watch him, barely picking at my food. He looks exhausted, like he didn’t sleep last night, and he eats like he hasn’t touched food in days. He doesn’t even glance at me once. Finally, we both finish. He leans back in his seat and sips his whisky, watching me for a second. “I’m going to ask you something,” he says. “If you lie to me, I’ll know.” “I wouldn’t lie to you,” I say. “Ethan, what’s going on? What happened?” “Did Richard Taylor send you here?” I sit back, stunned. “My father?” I ask, genuinely surprised.

He nods. “Answer the question, Aria.” “No,” I say softly. “I haven’t spoken with him in years.” He watches me for a second, his face tense, before finally relaxing a little bit. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “You’re telling the truth,” he says. “I swear. He didn’t send me here.” I shake my head. “I don’t want anything to do with him.” “He knows you’re with me,” Ethan says, and I feel a jolt of panic in my core. “How?” I ask softly. “He’s been watching me for a while now.” I narrow my eyes, confusion washing over me. “What are you talking about, Ethan?” “Your father is Richard Taylor, real estate magnate. And I’ve been working on a deal with him to buy one of his buildings for nearly four months now.” I suck in a breath, surprised as hell, but I shouldn’t be. This is just my luck. This is just how things work for me. My luck is horrible and never lasts no matter how much I think things are going to turn around. It’s not that impossible. My father is one of the

richest and most powerful men in the city, or at least he used to be. I’ve heard that he’s a shadow of his former self, riddled with debt and liens on his assets, but that wouldn’t stop him. Men like my father and Ethan run in the same circles. They do deals with each other all the time. I should have guessed that Ethan at least knew my father personally, or was possibly working directly with him. “He’s been watching me,” Ethan says softly. “Apparently he always does this. And when you threw your tantrum, I think he got pictures of you. And from there, he figured it all out.” “Shit,” I say softly. “Ethan. Shit. “I know.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Are you sure you’re not involved with him?” “Yes,” I say. “I swear. I hate that man.” “Good.” He sighs and closes his eyes before opening them and smiling slightly. I get a glimpse of the old Ethan in that moment and my heart swells. “I was worried.” “Why?” “Your father is currently blackmailing me with pictures of you. I was worried if he could pull off

something like that, then maybe he could pull off something like...” He trails off, shrugging. “Like planting me in your house,” I finish for him. “Exactly.” “He’s not a genius. He’s just a ruthless bastard.” “I’m beginning to see that.” He stands and walks over toward the bedroom window. “I’m in a tough spot, Aria. If I don’t give in to what he wants, he’ll release those photographs.” “So what? Let him. You didn’t do anything wrong.” “I know that.” He looks back at me, a rueful smile on his face. “But the public won’t care. I’m in the middle of a high profile merger and things are dicey at best right now. Any whiff of failure and things can go belly up.” I stand and moved toward him. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I had no clue.” “People depend on me. A lot of people. They’re not just my employees. I’m responsible for their jobs, their livelihoods. I feed their children. I can’t just fail them.” “But if you give in to my father, what then?” “I don’t know. But he wants you back. That’s what

he told The Syndicate, at least.” I stop a few feet away from him, and I finally understand what he did for me last night. He refused to give me back to my father, saving me from more torture, but in doing so he defied the man with power to destroy him. More than that, he feels like he risked his entire company for me. He thought I might have been a plant by my father, he didn’t trust me at the time, but he did it anyway. I feel torn in half by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I’m incredibly happy that he was willing to stand up to my father for me. It says a lot about the bond that’s building between us, and I know for a fact that it’s real. He must feel the same way, or else he wouldn’t have stepped up the way that he did. But it also means that I’m a liability. I’m the reason he’s even in this mess. Without me, he’d be better off, and now he knows it. He can’t think about just me and him, he has to think about all of the people that depend on him, and it’s clearly tearing him apart. I’m a liability. I’m his Achilles heel, at least where my father’s concerned. If he goes down, it’s going to be because of me.

I hate that thought. It almost makes me want to gag and throw up. It send chills down my spine and lodges a huge rock in my gut. He looks away from me, back out the window. “So now you understand,” he says softly. “Your father is probably watching us right now. Or at least someone that works for your father is waiting for us to slip up so he can get more pictures.” “I should go back,” I say suddenly, blurting the words out before I can think about them. He whirls on me. “What?” “I should go back,” I say. “It’s the best solution. My father can’t keep me, so even if The Syndicate gives me back to him, I’ll just run away again. And right now, I’m a liability for you.” “No,” he says forcefully. He steps toward me and takes me by the shoulders. “Do you hear me, Aria? I’m never going to give you back to that man.” I bite my lip. “You can’t keep me from them if they want me,” I say. “They’ll come for me.” “Let them come,” he says fiercely. “You’re mine, Aria. Do you hear me? You’re mine. They can try to take you.” I stare into his gorgeous eyes and want to cry. For

the first time in my life, I feel like someone values me above other people, and it’s an intense and strange feeling. I don’t know what to say to him, but that doesn’t matter. Because he pulls me against him and kisses me deeply. I return the kiss with something like hunger, maybe something like madness. It’s a frenzy and a starving blind and dumb need, and I can’t hold it back. He crushes me in his arms, in his kiss, and I feel held, protected, valued. Slowly, he breaks the kiss off and steps away from me. “I need time to think,” he says. “I don’t know how I’m going to play this with your father.” “Whatever I can do to help,” I say. “Of course.” He grins at me. “Don’t worry. I’ve handled bullies before. I can handle your father.” I nod, convinced that’s true. He turns and walks past me and toward the door. I watch him go with something like admiration and something like horror. I’m afraid that if he leaves now, he’ll never come back. But I can’t call out for him. I have to let him go. He pauses and looks back at me. He smiles and

nods, and then leaves the room. I stand there, breathing in and out, and finally collapse onto the couch. So much happened so fast, and I’m still processing. I don’t know how we got to this point, and it is a point, but it’s one that I don’t entirely understand. Something is happening between us. It’s more than just him buying me and making me his pet. There’s a real connection, one strong enough that he’s willing to risk important things for me. But I can barely even handle that. I don’t know what to do from here. The only thing I can think to do is to turn on the television and try not to cry. And so that’s what I do.

23

ETHAN

A

nother morning spent distracted, trying to get work done, but only able to think about Aria. Fortunately, most of what needs to get finished can be delegated. I hate to do that, but I can’t imagine that I’ll be able to buckle down and get it all finished in time if I try to take it all on myself. I need to figure out this Richard Taylor issue. That’s the most important thing right now. If I don’t bend and give him what he wants, then he’ll destroy me, and all this work will be for nothing. But if I do that, it’ll mean giving up Aria and betraying her. I just can’t do that. I couldn’t handle it if she gave me up to my father, and I can’t imagine doing that to her. Even if she says she’s

strong enough, and even if she really is, it’s not right. I won’t do it. I won’t give in. I won’t fucking lose to this scumbag piece of shit. Before, I was willing to bend to him and to give in for the sake of the company, because I didn’t really know who he is. But now I do. After everything Aria told me about her father, I won’t let him win this, too. He’s a small, powerhungry little piece of garbage, and I won’t roll over for him. Just because he’s rich and used to be famous doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants. Someone has to stand up to him, and that someone has to be me. Too bad I don’t know how. I have nothing to fight him with. The only thing I have is Aria, but she’s not a tool to be used in this little war, despite what her father may think. She doesn’t deserve any of this. I surprised myself by the way I reacted to The Syndicate trying to take her away. I was in shock after finding out who her father is and part of me thought she might be a traitor. I thought she might have been a mole, planted in my house by Richard. I gave him too much credit, of course. Richard isn’t some grandmaster of chess, he’s just a bully with a large bank account.

But even despite my suspicions about Aria, I couldn’t let them have her. I couldn’t let them take her away and give her to Richard Taylor. I couldn’t do that to her. She doesn’t deserve it, but more than that, I want her. She’s mine. I opened up to her in ways I never expected, and I felt that returned by her. I felt her own pain and humiliations and failures, just like she felt mine, and we were connected. We still are connected, and the idea of letting The Syndicate break that connection drives me fucking insane. No, it just isn’t going to happen. She’s safe back at my house. I’ve already hired a small private security firm, and they’ll be guarding the house twenty-four seven for as long as this situation continues. The Syndicate won’t get anywhere near Aria unless I let them. And if I need more muscle, more guns, more men, I’ll get them. I’ll expend any amount of money I have to. But the issue of Richard is still outstanding. I pick up my phone and dial his private number, not really thinking about it. He answers on the third ring. “Ethan,” he says.

“Richard.” I try to keep the anger and disgust from my voice. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” “We should meet. And talk.” “You’re right. We should.” The bastard sounds cocky. I hate that. “You should know something,” I say softly. “You’re not going to get her back. No matter what.” “Oh, I doubt that’s the case,” he says. I have to restrain myself. I want to go off on him, but I know that won’t do anything. “Meet me at La Azteca tonight at five.” “I can do that.” “Good. See you then.” “And Ethan?” he says quickly before I hang up. I pause. “What?” “Be nice to her. She’s had a tough life, you know. She’s a junky bitch, after all.” Rage tears through me. I want to yell and scream and tear him to pieces, but instead I just calmly hang up the phone.

He’s trying to goad me. He knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t make it any less disgusting. And I’m no less pissed off. But that’s for tonight. I stand up and grab my jacket, putting it back on. For now, I’m going home to see Aria. I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Richard tonight, and I want to see her before anything goes down. I hurry home, a knot of worry in my stomach.

24

ARIA

I

’m surprised when Ethan brings my lunch instead of Jenkins, though I probably shouldn’t be.

He walks into the room and takes off his jacket. “You’re home early,” I say. “Being the boss has some perks.” “I’m sure it does.” He smiles and sets lunch out on the table. “At this point, I’ve given away most of my tasks to subordinates,” he says. “I have a capable staff. I’m a very good judge of character.” “I know you are.” I say. I sit down at the table and he sits across from me.

“All of this...” He pauses. “It’s weighing on me. I don’t trust myself right now.” “Why not?” I ask him. “It’s a critical time, and if I take too much on, I could make a mistake.” “That doesn’t sound like you.” “It’s not. None of this is like me.” He smirks and shrugs. “But it’s fun, at least.” I laugh. “It’s fun?” “Sure it is.” “I’m not sure I’d call any of this fun.” He cocks his head at me. “Are you sure? You seemed like you were having fun the other night.” I blush and look away. “I guess I wasn’t thinking about that.” “I was,” he says. “Maybe that’s why you can’t work.” “Maybe,” he says seriously. “I keep thinking about you, my little pet. I keep seeing you tied up to my bed... do you like your punishments?” he asks. “Yes,” I say softly. I can feel a flush in my body,

that familiar hum of desire starting to grow in my core. The tension lately has been overwhelming, and I’m surprised that I’m suddenly craving his touch in a way I never imagined. I thought I was too upset to feel this way, but clearly I was wrong. He leans forward over the table. “What do you like?” he asks. “What do you mean?” “When I touch you.” I bite my lip, blushing like crazy. It’s silly to blush and feel embarrassed, but I can’t help it. I’m not used to a man being this direct, especially a man like Ethan. “I don’t know,” I say. “Do you like it when I spank you?” “Yes,” I admit. “I didn’t think I would. But it’s...” “Hot,” he finishes for me. “Yes,” I say. “And it feels good. It’s strange.” “It’s not strange. Pleasure and pain. They’re not so different.” He stands and looks at me. “Are you still my pet?” “If you want me to be.”

“I do.” He walks around the table and takes my hand, helping me up. He takes my hips and pulls me against his body. He’s so large and muscular, he practically swallows me up. I love the feeling of him against me. I love knowing that he can break me, destroy me, throw me around easily if he wanted to. I love knowing he can dominate me. “Tell me what you want,” he says. “Punish me,” I whisper, surprising myself. “Good girl.” He steers me toward the bed then presses me against one of the posts. “Stay,” he orders, before leaving for the closet. He returns a minute later holding the familiar pieces of black silk. He walks slowly toward me and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, practically trying to leap out of my ribcage. “This will be very simple,” he says, stopping in front of me, his body against mine. He reaches around me and takes my wrists, crossing them behind the post. “I’m going to tie you here. And then I’m going to take what I want from you.” I nod once and feel him begin to bind my wrists together. When he’s finished, he binds my wrists around the pole. Satisfied, he steps back. “Test that,” he orders.

I move my wrists. I have good range of motion, but they’re still tightly bound. “Good,” I say. “Good,” he echoes, stepping toward me. He takes my hair in his fist and tips my head back. “Very, very good.” He kisses my neck before kissing my mouth, his tongue gently touching mine, his lips smooth, his taste perfect. I groan as his hands roam my body, feeling my breasts, lingering on my hips, brushing the small of my back. I can feel the heat and desire radiating off him in waves and I know I feel the same way, have the same feelings of desire coursing through me. I can already feel my pussy is dripping and my head is spinning, and I don’t want him to stop. He gently tugs my shorts down over my ass and I feel his palms press me against him harder. He kneads my ass and kisses my neck, and for a second I’m completely lost in this moment. I feel his right hand move around toward my pussy and I shiver. I squirm as he finds my clit, his experienced hands sliding down the front of my panties. He rubs me in soft circles, his lips still against my neck. I want to struggle, not because I want it to stop, but because I like being reminded that I can’t get away. I spread my legs wider and I feel him smile. “You

want this, don’t you?” he whispers. “Badly,” I admit. “Why?” he purrs. “You’re dripping wet, Aria.” “You make me feel this way.” “Way?” he asks again. He presses two fingers deep inside of me and I moan. “I don’t know,” I say. “Tell me why you want this so badly.” “I can’t think with you doing that,” I admit. He smirks and stops. I give a little whine and cock my head at him. “Now, tell me.” “Don’t stop,” I groan. “Answer me.” I look away, blushing. “Because I’ve never felt this good with someone before.” “That’s right,” he says and his fingers resume their work, making me groan and bite my lip. “Only I can make you feel this good. That’s why you’re mine. That’s why you don’t want to leave here.” “It’s true,” I groan. I don’t know why I’m admitting it. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I won’t give you away, my pet,” he says softly. “You know that, don’t you?” “Yes,” I gasp. He smirks and slowly drops to his knees. He pulls down my panties and spreads my legs wide, his hands on my ass as he buries his face in my pussy. I close my eyes as his tongue and mouth find my clit. He sucks and licks me, lapping my every inch, sucking on my juices, swallowing me like he’s dying of thirst. He sucks me and my knees start to shake, but he supports me with his arms, holding me up. I can barely think as wave after wave of pleasure rocks through me, and I don’t want him to ever stop. I’m shocked as I feel an orgasm building inside of me already. I want to squirm away, make him slow down, but I can’t move. He’s holding me there tightly, not giving me an inch, and I know he knows. I know he’s aware that I’m about to come. “Ethan,” I groan. “Not yet. Please. I’m so close.” His grip on my ass tightens and his tongue and mouth keep working my clit faster, sucking harder, and I can’t stop it. I can’t hold it back. The orgasm passes through me, making every inch of my body clench and twitch as I explode with pleasure.

He has to support me completely as I come, practically falling down, but he holds me there and doesn’t stop. It slowly crests and moves past, washing through me like a hurricane, leaving me clean and barren as he slowly pulls back, a grin on his face. “Good girl,” he says. I gasp in deep breaths. “Shit,” I say. “I wasn’t ready.” “That’s okay,” he says. “You’re not done.” I blink at him. “What?” “You think I’d let you off so easily?” He laughs and stands. He reaches around me and does something to the silk ties. I’m released and for a second, I take a step toward him, but he stops me. He reaches back and binds my hands again. I’m free of the post, but my wrists are still tied behind my body. He takes me over to the bed and gently pushes me forward, bending me over, my hands tied behind my back and my ass in the air. I look back over my shoulder as he undresses. I watch his muscular body slip out of his clothing, and finally he stands there behind me, cock hard as fuck, muscles ripped.

“See, now it’s my turn to have what I want,” he says, and then he spanks me. I gasp and bite my lip. “What are you going to do to me?” I ask him. “Whatever I want.” He spanks me again. “And you’re going to enjoy it. We both know you will.” “Shit,” I groan as he spanks me again. The lingering orgasm mixed with the pain gets my heart racing again, and I can feel that pulse of desire between my legs, the strobing need that builds inside of me. He gently teases my pussy with his fingers, being tender on my sensitive clit, and then spanks my ass again. I gasp at the sudden pain mingling with the pleasure in my mind, not sure how to differentiate between it all. He grins and does it again, alternating from my ass to my pussy and back again until my breath is coming in deep gasps and I know that I want it again. “Good girl,” he says finally, fingers inside of me, sliding in and out slowly, fucking me from behind. “You’re nice and slick again for me. Didn’t take long.” “You’re a bastard,” I say to him, smiling, and he grins back. “Good. I’m glad you think so.”

He slaps my ass again then stands behind me. I feel his thick cock against my aching pussy and I know what’s going to happen, but I can’t prepare myself for it. He slides himself deep inside of me. I gasp and moan as his thick cock fills my sensitive tight pussy. Pleasure and pain mingle, washing over me, but the pain is less this time. He slaps my ass, his cock buried deep inside of me, and then he grabs the tie between my wrists and holds it as he slowly thrusts into me. He pins me there, face down on the bed, hands behind my back. I can’t move an inch. He holds the tie that binds my wrists tightly in one hand, pulling me back against him as he thrusts into me, pushing himself deep inside of my pussy. “God, yes,” he groans. “Your pussy is so fucking tight and warm, you know that? I want to bury myself deep in this little cunt and taste your cum again.” “Oh god,” I moan. “Be nice. I don’t know if I can handle it.” “There’s nothing nice about me.” He sounds like an animal, filled with lust, as he begins to thrust harder. “And nothing gentle, either.”

He starts to fuck me, really fuck me, hips working hard, cock slapping into my pussy, and I can feel myself building into it again. I moan, head turned to catch glimpses of his rock hard body as his cock slams into me. He pulls me back harder, cock slamming into me, and I know he’s fucking me like an animal. There’s no mercy in him anymore, nothing tender or gentle. He wants to fuck me rough and deep and that’s what he’ll do. There’s no slowing down and I know it. I’m going to be taken and I fucking love it. I start to work my hips back against him, getting deeper into the moment as he rips into me. His grunts are loud and passionate, and I know he’s going to come inside of me, fill me with his heat, and I want it. I need it so fucking badly I can barely control myself at all. But I keep bucking back against him, sliding along his thick cock, marveling that he can even fit inside of me. And the pleasure is overwhelming. The way I’m bound there, unable to do anything but work that cock, makes me feel so fucking sexy and needed. I love that I’m his little pet, the woman he wants to fuck and be rough with. I love it, the way he handles me, gentle at first but pushing me up against my boundaries. My body is sweating and working in rhythm with

his, working faster and harder, getting closer. “Come in my pussy, Ethan,” I moan, not sure where that’s coming from. “Come inside of me, you fucking bastard.” “That’s right,” he says, slapping my ass with his free hand. “Go ahead and call me a bastard again, you fucking dirty slut. Do it.” “Fuck you, bastard,” I groan. He rips into me and I can feel another orgasm building inside of me. I can’t believe I’m going to come again, but I know there’s no stopping it. I struggle back against him and he pushes me down, tearing into my pussy, working me hard. “I’m going to fill you up, dirty fucking girl,” he says. “You want this fucking cum?” “Yes, Ethan,” I moan. “That’s right. You bad girl. You filthy fucking girl.” He fucks me deeper, rougher, slaps my ass, pulls my hair, and I’m almost there. I’m so close. He strokes into me, deep and rough smacks of his cock, and I know I can’t hold back anymore. He groans loudly, and I know he’s coming just as my orgasm crests and starts to wash over me again. I can feel his hot cum fill my little pussy, and it’s

ecstasy, something I can barely comprehend. We come together, bodies moving as one, sweating and working and writhing, and it’s all so much. Slowly we come down together. The orgasm passes into a dull buzz of pure bliss. He releases my wrists from their bond and then we collapse together on the bed, his arms wrapped around me. I love this. We say nothing. There’s nothing to say in this moment. All I need is his arms around me, his body against mine. We sweat together and are together, and that’s all I care about. Nothing is going to tear me from his arms, not if I can help it.

25

ETHAN

T

he shower water washes over me and I can still feel her, ringing all through my body. She’s just outside of the bathroom, still in her bed, waiting for me to come back out. I have to clean up before I go to this meeting with Richard, although all I want to do is lay in bed with her and forget about everything else. I finish showering and step out, towel around my waist. She smiles at me, wrapped in the sheets. “Clean?” she asks. “Clean,” I confirm. “I didn’t know you like to shower after sex.” “I don’t normally,” I admit. “I like still being able

to feel you. Is that strange?” She shakes her head. “No, not at all.” “Good. But I have to go to a meeting.” She looks disappointed. I hate disappointing her. “Really?” she asks. “Really.” I frown and glance down at the ground. “It’s with your father.” She goes very, very still suddenly. “Oh,” she says. “I didn’t think you were going to be involved with him.” “We still have this business deal. I have to work something out with him.” “Do you have any ideas?” I shake my head. “I’ll probably offer him good terms. Hopefully he accepts.” “What if he wants me back?” “I won’t do that.” “He might destroy you.” I nod once. “Yeah, he might.” “We need a plan. In case that happens.” “We don’t need anything.” I walk over and kiss her

gently on the lips. “I’ll take care of it.” “You’re not alone in this, Ethan. I’m just as responsible as you are.” “I don’t think so,” I say and walk over to my clothes. I start to get dressed as we talk. “But I am. I’m the one he’s after. If I left and went back to him, things might be easier.” “Maybe, or maybe not. We can’t know for sure.” “We still need a plan.” I sigh. “I know we do. I’m working on it.” She pauses for a second and watches as I get dressed. “How do you think he found out about The Syndicate?” she asks me suddenly. I shrug. “He’s probably involved with them.” “Okay,” she says. “But how did he figure out that I’m working for them? They don’t give out that kind of information.” “He has spies all over the place,” I muse. “Maybe he has one in The Syndicate.” “Maybe,” she says. “But what if it’s simpler than that?”

“Simple how?” I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but I’m fascinated. Her face gets excited suddenly as I finish putting on my shirt. “He could be a regular there,” she says. “Maybe he asked the other girls about me. Some of them know me.” “I thought you were new to this,” I ask her skeptically. “Can’t be that many girls.” “The night of the auction I met maybe twenty different girls. Some of them know me. And before that, I met a few more, even made friends with one.” I narrow my eyes, starting to see where she’s going with this. “I had to sign something when I bought you,” I say. “Regulars do more than sign something,” she confirms. “What are you getting at?” “I think The Syndicate has information on him. And if we can get it, we can trade that information for what he has on you.” “Interesting,” I say and then sit down on the side of the bed. “How do you propose we get this from The Syndicate? They’re not exactly just going to

hand it over.” “No,” she says, nodding. “They won’t. But if you give me back to them, I can steal it.” “Absolutely not,” I say, standing up instantly. “No way am I giving you back to them.” “Think about it, Ethan. I can do it from the inside. I have at least one friend. And if you give them money, I bet I can make some more friends.” I frown at her. “I can’t risk this. How could you even find it?” “I couldn’t. But I’d get help.” “What if they just throw you into a hole and then hand you over to your father?” “They wouldn’t do that.” I groan, shaking my head. “No way,” I say. “It’s a good plan, Ethan.” “No,” I repeat. “I can’t do it.” She stands and walks over to me. She takes my hands between hers and looks at me. She seems so small, so insecure, and yet I sense a fountain of power deep inside of her. She’s radiating confidence, and it’s hard not to look at how

gorgeous she is. “Let me,” she says softly. “I can do this. You have to trust me. You can’t just keep me locked up in here forever.” I watch her, not sure what to say. I can’t put her in any kind of danger, but I know her idea isn’t bad. There are just too many unknowns, and I have no control over the outcome, and that terrifies me. “Ethan,” she says softly. “Let me do this.” I look away from her. “I can’t.” “You can. And I’m going to. Just don’t stop me.” I shake my head. “Please, Aria. Let me figure this out. Don’t go back to them.” She reaches up and touches my face then kisses me softly, standing on her toes. “I won’t leave you,” she says. “I’ll come back. And when I do, we’ll fix this.” I watch her, and I know it has to happen. Something in her face tells me that she’s determined to see this through whether I want her to or not. There’s no stopping her. And so I nod and kiss her hard, pulling her against me. When the kiss is done, I keep her in my arms.

“Be safe,” I say. “I will be. Don’t worry.” I have to be willing to lose some control. I have to trust her. Whatever’s happening between us is real, very real. And I can’t pretend that I don’t know what it is anymore. It’s love, real love, the kind that comes at you from out of nowhere and is so obvious in its purity that you almost can’t see it. There’s too much brightness there, and I looked away, but not anymore. I’m going to embrace it. I’m going to trust it. I’m going to trust her to come back to me, and if she can’t, I’m going to go get her. “I love you,” I say. “I love you too,” she whispers. I hold her tight while letting her go.

26

ARIA

T

hey meet me out in front of Ethan’s house. Jenkins forces me to stay inside in the foyer with my bags until the car pulls up and a large man in a black jacket approaches. Jenkins doesn’t say a word when I leave. I’m sure Jenkins is excited that I’m leaving, but I’m terrified. After we decided on the plan, I sent The Syndicate a message through my phone and told them that I was ready to come back. They responded right away, saying they’d send somebody as soon as possible. I kissed Ethan goodbye and he left for the meeting with my father. He’s not going to do anything at the meeting. Now the plan is to wait and see if this pans out. He’s

going to try and stall, but that’ll be it. It’s up to me now. I ride in the back of a large town car, my bags in the trunk, worried as all hell. The woman sitting up front next to the large man is the same woman that came to see Ethan. She doesn’t introduce herself. I can tell that they’re not happy to have me back, and that’s fine with me. I watch out the window, butterflies in my stomach, not sure what I’m going to do. When I joined The Syndicate and gave myself up to the profession, they took me into the mansion. That’s where the auction took place. I lived there for a few weeks, learning the ropes, though there wasn’t a whole lot of learning going on. Mostly, I met a bunch of girls and we gossiped and chatted. All of The Syndicate girls live in the mansion while they’re on assignment or waiting to go on assignment. We don’t get breaks or days off until our contract is over, and contracts are typically six months. Of course, I planned on skipping out on my contract after I got my big payday. That’s not uncommon. Now though, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know how they’re going to treat me when I get

back there. I’m hoping that the girls I know are still there, or if maybe I can meet someone new that will be willing to help me. The mansion is a large building in the south part of the city. It looks like a normal city block, a group of row homes, but that’s just a façade. Inside, the mansion is actually one large building that encompasses the entire block, north and south. Most of the doors on the street level lead absolutely nowhere. The car parks in front of the main entrance, an unassuming looking brick house in the middle of the block. We get out and the driver gives me my bags. “You made the right choice,” the woman says to me as the driver gets back in the car and heads off. “I think so,” I say. “The Syndicate is pleased,” she replies, heading up the steps. I follow her, lugging my bags. “Really?” I ask. “Of course. We respect loyalty.” She doesn’t sound pleased, though, and she doesn’t look at me when she speaks. I have a bad feeling, but I block it out.

We head inside. The entrance foyer looks like a normal row home, but as soon as we go around the corner, it opens up into the magnificent building that is the mansion. It’s exactly as I remembered it. Plush, beautiful rugs, expensive art on the walls, high ceilings, impossibly beautiful. Everything is polished and in its right place. “Come,” the woman says, leading me down a few corridors. “You’ll stay with the girls until we figure out what to do with you.” “Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.” “Mhmmm,” she answers ignoring me again. The girls stay in what’s essentially a dormitory in the eastern part of the building. I’m shown to a room where I can unpack and get changed if I want. There’s a shower down the hall and a common room on the next floor down with a kitchen and some couches. That’s where most of the girls spend their time. I thank the woman and she leaves as fast as she can, almost as if I’m poisonous. The Syndicate doesn’t want me here. I can tell that about them, I’m just another pain in the ass, another problem to solve. The second they get the

opportunity, they’re going to turn me in to my father. Which is why I don’t plan on being here for very long. I quickly open my bag and get out the phone Ethan gave me. I send him a message, saying that I’m okay, and then I grab an envelope that I hid beneath my underwear. Inside the envelope is ten grand in hundred dollar bills. I slip it into the waistband of my jeans and cover it over with my shirt. I take a quick look in the mirror and then I head to the common room. I step into the main room and take a look around. Disappointment sinks into my stomach. I don’t recognize a single girl in there. People sit in small groups and talk, but I don’t know a single face. There are maybe eight girls in all scattered around. I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door just to have something to do. I grab a bottled water and open it, looking around. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t know anyone. I can probably just ask a random girl, hope she knows something, but that’s dangerous. If I ask the wrong girl and she turns me in, I’ll be finished. I don’t know what I’ll do then. This whole thing will be over, and I’ll be given back to my father.

A nervous energy rolls through me as I scan the room one more time. I sit down at the kitchen table and cross my legs, sipping the water and looking at my phone, trying to pretend like I’m busy, but inwardly I’m terrified. This could all be for nothing. I know that, deep in my gut, but I can’t let myself fall into that trap. It’s still early, I just got here. Other girls might show up. I have to hope. I sit there for an hour or so, fiddling with my phone. Nobody talks to me, which isn’t so surprising. Most girls in The Syndicate are pretty cliquey and tight knit groups tend to form. People sure do love their high school bullshit hierarchies, even when they’re not in high school. “Hey, I know you.” I look up suddenly, surprised. A blonde girl looks back at me, smiling. I’m so surprised that someone is actually talking to me, I forget to respond. “Lisa,” she says. “Remember? From the auction?” I pause and then my eyes go wide. “Lisa,” I say, laughing. “We spoke before.” “That’s right.” She smiles warmly and sits down next to me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” I say. “What about you? Who did you end up going home with?” She laughs. “Nobody, actually.” I raise an eyebrow, surprised. Lisa is gorgeous, way prettier than me. “Nobody?” “They didn’t buy me.” She shrugs. “No big deal.” “That’s crazy.” “Oh, it’s fine. I actually feel relieved, you know? I lucked into my current job.” “Current job?” “Sure.” She leans back and brushes her hair from her face. “They gave me an admin job. Been doing that ever since.” She goes on about how life is tough living here, but her room and board is free and it’s not so bad, but I barely hear her. I suddenly lost the ability to concentrate when she said the word “admin.” “Lisa,” I say, suddenly interrupting her but not caring. “I need your help.” She looks surprise. “Uh, okay,” she says. “Sorry,” I answer, talking fast. “I know I’m being rude. But I really need your help.”

“Okay,” she says softly. “What can I do?” “I need something, something you might know how to get for me, but it’s something that could get us both in trouble.” Her eyes narrow. “I don’t know where you can get drugs.” I pause. “No, no, not that,” I say. “Nothing like that. It’s information.” She softens a bit, but still looks confused. “What information can I get for you?” I lean toward her, glancing around. Nobody is listening or watching. I have to make my move. “I know The Syndicate keeps files on everyone that hires them. My father, he’s used them before, and he’s a bad man. I need his file.” She blinks. “I don’t know if I can do that.” “Please,” I say. “I have ten thousand dollars in cash on me. I’m willing to pay you more. A lot more.” “How?” she says, laughing. “That’s insane. This is insane.” “Look.” I take the envelope and show her quickly. Her eyes widen in shock. “It’s real,” I say. “Where did you get all that?”

“The man I was sold to. He’s helping me. Well, we’re helping each other. Doesn’t matter. But now I need you, and we’ll pay.” She looks at me like I’m an insane person. I stare at her, desperate. “Okay,” she says. “Okay. I’ll help you.” Relief tumbles over me like a wave. “Thank you,” I say. “Just let me get my phone and get changed. I’ve been in this all day. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” “Okay,” I say. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” “Of course.” She smiles, stands, and quickly walks away. I watch her go, feeling nervous but relieved for the first time since this all started. I don’t know what I’d do if she didn’t show up, but she did, and she’s willing to help. I sit there and two minutes turns into five minutes which turns into ten. Slowly, I start to look back over that conversation, and I realize something. She never asked how much we’d pay her. She never asked anything, in fact. She just said she’d help me and then quickly left the room. It doesn’t take you ten minutes to get changed and to grab

your phone. “Fuck,” I say softly to myself and stand. I realize my mistake, but it’s too late. Four men and the woman from earlier walk into the room. They instantly zero in on me, all their eyes on me. They walk in my direction and everyone is staring. I’m screwed. Lisa betrayed me, stabbed me in the back, but can I really blame her? I came on too strong, like a total crazy person. She probably thinks I’m some kind of police informant or something crazy like that. She probably thought she was doing the right thing. Maybe she was. Maybe I’m stupid for thinking I could pull this off. Well, clearly I am, because it’s not going to happen. I’m going to be given back to my father. I can say goodbye to the life I wanted. I’m going back to hell. “Come with me, Aria,” the woman says. She looks even more annoyed than she did before. “No,” I say. “I can’t go back to him.” She sighs. “Please. Just come. I promise you we aren’t giving you to your father.”

I pause then nod. What else can I do? The big men could just pick me up and carry me off if I refused. They lead me down a series of hallways until finally we stop outside a pair of ornate double doors. The woman steps up and opens them. “Go ahead,” she says, ushering me inside. She stops short of entering herself and slowly shuts the doors behind me. I walk into the room, looking around. It looks like a library or a study in some rich English person’s home. It’s beautiful, full of leather-bound books, and there’s a fire roaring at the far end in a large ornate fireplace. In front of the fire are two chairs, and sitting in one of the two chairs is a very small and very old woman. As I walk toward her, she holds up a hand. I pause and wait. Finally, she drops her hand, and I finish my approach. “Hello,” I say. “I, uh, was told to come here.” “My name is Lorraine,” she says. “I guess you could say that I’m the Madame around here.” My heart flutters in my chest. I’ve heard of this woman. She’s the head of The Syndicate, an old time mobster, a killer, a badass. Her white hair is pulled back in a thick braid that hangs loosely over

one shoulder. She wears a thick black cardigan and khaki pants with stylish shoes and beautiful jewelry. Frankly, she looks like a nice grandmother, but I know better than that. She’s a ruthless killer. “Sit down,” she says, more of an order than anything else. I sit in the chair next to her. She looks at me, a slight smile on her face. “I hear you’re looking for information,” she says. I sigh and look at the ground. “I’m sorry,” I say. “How much is Ethan willing to pay?” I pause and then look up at her. She smiles. “We’re not stupid, dear,” she says. “And we don’t like your father.” Hope rekindles in my chest. Hope and something related to hope, the belief in the possibility of a good future life with someone special. It’s a specific emotion, but it’s an important one. “Two million,” I say. Lorraine’s eyes sparkle. “Let’s have a conversation, dear.”

I turn toward her and think that maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to feel afraid ever again.

27

ETHAN

T

hree days pass after Aria returns to The Syndicate and I have my meeting with Richard. That meeting goes nowhere, as I suspected. He wants more concessions than I’m willing to give, but I promised him that I’d meet all of his demands, that I just need time. He bought that for whatever reason, and gave me three days. Three days to prepare. Three days without Aria. That’s how I find myself here, in an abandoned parking lot at three in the morning. There isn’t much to our plan, to be totally honest, but it has been hard. As part of the deal with The Syndicate, Aria had to live with them for these past few days to ensure that we wouldn’t back out. There’s no

chance of that, of course, since The Syndicate is our last hope, but they want to be thorough and I respect that. I shift nervously, standing under the lone spotlight. I can hear water dripping nearby and smell the rain from earlier in the night. I’m alone, very alone, although I shouldn’t be. The Syndicate is late. As I think back over the last few weeks, I can’t help but wonder how I got to this point. I went from buying a strange girl I barely knew and wanting to seduce her for a game, to needing to keep her. I’m willing to do anything for her now, and although that terrifies me, we both know why. I love her. I can’t help myself. We have so much in common, a shared history, and although our paths forked along the way and we went in different directions, I know I can help her. I can bring her back into the light. Maybe I can even save her. But this has to go well first. I can’t do anything if I lose my company and let Richard Taylor fucking destroy me. I hear a sound toward the lot’s entrance and I perk up, looking in that direction. There’s an old factory behind me, the brick smelling mildewy and damp, and I can’t see far enough to spot anything moving

toward me. There are no lights, which means there are no cars. I’m probably just imagining things. But as I stand there, I suddenly become aware of something. It’s a strange feeling in the back of my mind. I look up and when I look back down, I spot two men coming around the corner of the factory. I don’t recognize them, but they’re carrying large rifles. I step backwards and turn, but more men are coming from the other side. I want to run, but I have to control myself. I can’t look like a weak fool in this moment, so I stay where I am and face them. The man that approaches me is young, maybe in his early twenties, with a wicked scar down his face. “Ethan Locks?” he asks. I nod. “That’s me.” “We’re with The Syndicate. Lorraine will be here shortly.” “Thanks,” I say. The guy nods and then motions at his men. They fan out, disappearing into the night. The man stays there, standing near me. “We’re securing the area,” he says. I nod at him, understanding. I vaguely know who Lorraine is, though not exactly. She’s apparently an

old woman in charge of the Syndicate, which seems very odd, but everything lately seems fucking crazy anyway. I don’t know how an old woman runs the biggest prostitution ring in the city, but I’m just accepting these things as they happen. “Check that,” the guy says and nods at me. “They’re coming, Mr. Locks. Good luck.” He melts back toward the factory and disappears into the shadows before I can respond. I’m left standing there alone again, although I know there are at least twenty men standing around me, hidden in the shadows. I take a deep breath, calming my pulse, and concentrate on the task ahead. I can’t let my nerves get the best of me. Down the road, I spot a set of headlights slowly heading toward me. They make the turn into the parking lot and the car parks next to my own. It’s an old black town car from the nineties, though it looks like it’s in perfect condition. The back door opens and I expect an old woman, but instead it’s Aria. She’s dressed in a black shirt and jeans, and as soon as she spots me she runs toward me. “Ethan!” she says, throwing herself at me.

I laugh, catching her in a hug, pulling her small body against mine. I’m shocked all over again at how good it feels to be near her and how happy I am to see her. I didn’t know what I expected, but clearly nothing has changed. We went three days without seeing each other, and it feels like no time at all has passed. She pulls back, grinning. “You okay?” I ask her. “I’m great. They were so nice.” “Really?” I ask, skeptical. “Honestly. Lorraine is fantastic. Apparently they hate my father as much as we do.” “Guess that’s not too surprising,” I say, laughing. “Mr. Locks.” I look over suddenly toward the car. Standing next to it is an old woman with thick, long white hair pulled into a braid. Her face is lined with wrinkles and she’s holding a cane in one hand, but she’s immaculately dressed and her blue eyes are sharp. Aria pulls away from my embrace, but she doesn’t let go of my hand. “Lorraine, this is Ethan,” Aria says.

“Good to meet you,” I say. She hobbles over toward us and extends her hand. We shake and she smiles up at me. “So, are you ready to demolish your father?” Lorraine asks Aria. “Yes, ma’am.” “Good.” She looks at me. “I hear you’ve been good to my girl.” “I have been. Or I’ve tried to be.” “Keep being good. Did you bring my money?” I nod. “It’s where you instructed me to put it.” As soon as I got here, I left the money in two briefcases in two different parts of the factory. It was a pain in the ass, but it was what they instructed me to do. “Good. So my men have it already.” “I assume so.” She checks her watch. “And now it’s time for the last piece of the puzzle. Is he normally punctual?” she asks. “Yes,” I say. “Normally, he’s early.” “Let’s see, then.” Lorraine joins us, and we stand in

a line together, an old woman, Aria, and me. We must look like a strange little trio. We don’t have long to wait. True to form, Richard arrives on time, maybe even a little early. Two black SUVs pull into the lot and Richard climbs out of one followed by three large men, clearly his muscle. Three more men come from the other car, making six guys in total. Richard approaches with a huge grin on his face. The bastard probably thinks we’re outnumbered. He stares at Aria and I feel her stiffen beside me. His eyes drill into hers but she doesn’t look away, and for a second I’m proud of her. “Hello, daughter,” he says. She doesn’t respond. Just gazes back at him then spits onto the ground. Richard laughs then looks at me. “Well, Ethan,” he says, grinning at me. “You called this meeting. I assume you have a huge fucking bribe for me?” “Something like that,” I say. “Good. You’re in one shit position.” He looks at Lorraine and for a second, his grin falters. “And who is this old bat?” he asks.

“I’d be more polite, young man,” Lorraine says. “Why? Are you going to hit me with your cane?” Lorraine sighs. “You never know what’s good for you, Richard.” He frowns at that. “Who are you?” “I’m here to give you something.” She steps forward, bringing out a manila envelope from under her cardigan. She hobbles slowly toward him, holding the envelope out. He eyes her strangely. “The fuck is this?” he asks. “Your recipe for pie?” “Something like that,” she murmurs. “Take it, please. And look inside.” He takes the envelope from her and she hobbles back toward us, a smile on her face. She winks at me as Richard takes the photographs from inside of the envelope. His face drops instantly and he shoves the pictures back into the envelope. One of the guys standing right behind him snickers and laughs a little. “What the fuck is this?” Richard shouts, anger bubbling up in him. Lorraine slowly turns back toward him. “Be polite,

young man. Those are photographs.” “I saw that. Where the fuck did you get this? They’re fake.” Lorraine laughs. “They’re not fake. You know that. We have more where that came from, too. Video, if you like.” He’s speechless. I can feel Aria’s tension next to me, and I squeeze her hand. She looks up at me and forces herself to smile. “Fuck this,” Richard says. “I want my money, Ethan. Fuck this.” “We’re even now,” I say to him. “Do you get it? You’re going to sign the contract before last, the one that was a fair fucking deal. And then we’re done with this. You’ll leave Aria alone.” “Or what?” he says, anger bubbling over. “Calm down,” Lorraine says. “Or I’ll put a bullet in your head.” “Fuck you, old bitch!” he shouts. There’s a crack from behind us and a bullet smashes into the ground right in front of Richard. He shouts and jumps back, eyes wide. His goons all pull out weapons.

“I wouldn’t fire those, if I were you,” Lorraine calls out. “This place is surrounded. Boys?” Suddenly, lights flash on all around us, probably twenty glowing beacons all told. The looks on the faces of Richard’s men are fucking priceless as they slowly put their guns on the ground. The flashlights turn off, and the men disappear again. I step toward Richard. “Like I said, you’ll sign that contract, and you’ll leave Aria alone. Understood?” He gapes at me, shocked. I walk toward him, a wicked grin on my face. I’m relishing this moment, savoring the look on his face. He’s defeated and he knows it, but I need more. I want him to grovel. “Ethan,” Lorraine warns me. I stop in front of Richard. His eyes are wide with anger, and I can tell he’s on the verge of doing something stupid. “I get everything,” I say. “I win and you lose. And I get your daughter.” I grin at him. He swings, just like I wanted. His fist lashed out, clumsy and wide. I duck it, elbow him in the gut, and then bring my other fist up and clock his chin. He staggers back and his men have to grab him to

keep him standing. “Do as you’re told,” I say. “Or you’re finished.” Lorraine sighs. “Ethan, enough.” I nod and walk away, back to Aria. I take her hand and squeeze it and she laughs a little. “Asshole,” she whispers. Richard staggers to his feet, getting his balance again. “This isn’t over,” he calls out. “Yes, it is,” Lorraine says. “The Syndicate is done with you. Fuck up and we’ll destroy you. Do as you’re told, Richard. Don’t make me come out in the middle of the night again, please.” Richard is at a loss for words. He stares at the woman, finally comprehending who she is and what we’re doing here. He nods once. “Go to your car, go home, and be good.” Lorraine waves to him. Richard pauses then turns. The whole group of them gets back into their SUVs and we watch as they drive away. Lorraine sighs as they disappear around the bend. “Did you have to hit him?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Well, I can’t pretend like that wasn’t satisfying, but it’s late and I’m tired. Dear?” Aria steps toward her. “Yes?” “Do you want to stay with Mr. Locks here?” “Yes,” she says. “And Mr. Locks. Do you want Aria?” “Yes,” I say. “Absolutely.” “Good. Be nice to each other. Your contract with us is done, Aria. Good luck.” “Thank you.” She kisses Lorraine gently on the cheek. “I hope I never see you two ever again,” she says happily, then hobbles over to her car. She disappears into the back and then the car drives off. We stand there for a moment, Aria and I, alone in the lot. Lorraine’s men are gone too, I can sense them no longer staring at us. I step toward Aria, smiling. “What now?” I ask her. She shrugs. “I don’t know. We’re free.”

“We are.” “No more money. No more Syndicate. Just the two of us.” She smiles at me, a little uncertain. “Are you sure about this?” I grab her hips, pull her against me, and kiss her hard. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I melt into the kiss, hoping she understands that, and knowing she will eventually. I’m going to make a life with this woman. I’ll pay off her debts and make her my fucking wife one day, whether she knows it yet or not. That’s all that matters to me. It’ll be us two against the world. But hopefully not. Hopefully it’ll just be us two and nothing else, only joy.

28

ARIA ONE YEAR LATER

I

can hear the ocean just outside of the balcony doors. I stir in bed, taking a deep breath, and I smile.

Ethan is already up and outside. I climb out of bed and push aside the curtains. The view is astounding and amazes me every morning just as much as it did the first time. The beachfront town spreads out around us, with the ocean barely a quarter mile away. Sea birds cry out and I blink at the sun. “Morning,” Ethan says. “My beautiful wife.” I laugh and smile at him. “Morning yourself. Why’d you let me sleep so late?” “You looked too content. Couldn’t wake you.” I smile and walk over to him. Ethan is sitting at a

table eating a modest breakfast and wearing a white shirt open at the chest with white slacks. After everything with my father, we got married almost right away. Ethan said he didn’t want to wait, and I wasn’t going to argue. We eloped to France, and when I got pregnant four months later, we decided to stay. We left Jenkins behind, mostly because he hates me, and although I thought that might be tough for Ethan, he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. He’s so much more resourceful than I thought. Ethan works remotely now, and most of his duties have been taken over by his subordinates. He’s transitioning away from being the high-powered full-time CEO to being something else, something more domestic. I don’t have to worry about debt anymore. Ethan paid it off practically the night Lorraine destroyed my father. And my father never once bothered us, and even signed the contracts as he was told. Whatever was in that envelope scared him straight, and we never heard from him again. The Syndicate never bothered us again, either, though I wish I could see Lorraine. She was good to me when I was staying with them, and I even began to think of her as a friend.

Now though, we live far away in the south of France, and I’m so pregnant I can barely walk around. Ethan stands up and kisses my pregnant belly then kisses my lips. “Another perfect day,” he observes. “It’s always perfect here, isn’t it?” He shrugs. “I guess so. If you get tired of it being too perfect, we can leave at any time.” I laugh, shaking my head. I’m still not used to having unlimited money and time and freedom. It’s hard to really understand just how easily we can move around and do whatever we want. I feel so content, so surpassingly content. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life. I still feel like that awful junky girl that I used to be, but I’m slowly getting away from it. All because of him. We’re a family now, and he treats me like a queen. He spoils me, and I’m still his pet. We’ve been exploring all the different ways he can tie me up, or at least we were until I got too pregnant. Once I have this baby, we’ll go back to it. And I can’t freaking wait. “What do you want to do today?” he asks me.

“I don’t know. Isn’t that awful? We can do anything, and I never know what to do.” “Horrible problem to have.” He laughs and kisses me again. This is how life turned out for me. I don’t know how. Sometimes, it shocks me. But I’m Mrs. Locks, wife of the rich and handsome Ethan Locks, and still his little pet. And soon, we’ll be a bigger family. I’ll have my baby and maybe another, and maybe another. We’ll live wherever we want, do whatever we want, and I know it’ll be perfect. There are bad days ahead, of course. Nothing is ever perfect for long. But the good days will always outnumber the bad ones, because I’ll have Ethan with me. He’ll protect me. He’ll bring me through anything. I’m still that junky girl. But maybe soon, I won’t be anymore. All because of him. We’re a family. And I couldn’t be happier. I’ll keep following him forever, as long as he’ll have me, until I can’t follow him any more.

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