Fuck, I’ve been had. He’s so fucking playing with me. “You are, aren’t you?” I ask, shaking my head. “Well you can just—”

  “Stop.” The sharp tone freezes me. Already I’m responding to his domination and I don’t know how I feel about that. Crossing my arms on my chest, I narrow my eyes at him but don’t speak.

  “I do not mix business with pleasure,” he says, his lips pressed into a thin line. “And just so we’re clear? Neither do you.”

  “Oh, right,” I huff. “Is that an addendum? Rule number seven? You just thought to—”

  But I don’t finish what I’m saying because in two massive strides he’s crossed the room, and his hand’s wrapped in my hair, so tightly the words freeze on my lips. I forget what I was even saying when he tugs me against his body. I can feel the tension wound in him, the heat of his breath at my ear.

  “No, baby,” he whispers. “I don’t need to add any fucking addendums. Rule number three covers that.”

  I repeat what he said in my head.

  Rule number three: you obey me, or I punish you.

  “I’ve disobeyed you?” I ask, my voice subdued with his grip in my hair.

  “I’m not playing you. I’m not seducing you so I can get away with anything. We’ve already discussed this. What we battle outside of Verge we’ll let the lawyers and protests and media handle it. Go ahead. Fight me. I like media coverage. I won’t stop you from your little crusade, though I’ll tell you now, you’re not going to win.”

  I want to curse him out, but I know that’s likely not the smartest move at this juncture. I hate that I find parts of him so compelling and other parts infuriating.

  And hell, I need the damn money.

  I can play nice at the club.

  “Understand?” he asks.

  “I think so,” I say through gritted teeth. “I can fight you, but you’ll win in the end. You won’t punish me for trying to stop your company, but it barely ruffles your feathers.”

  “Well done,” he says and in that moment, I hate him. Arrogant fucking jerk.

  “Now this is what we’ll do. We’ll talk to Tobias. I’ll tell him what I’d like to do. My driver will take you home tonight, and we’ll make plans for you to come to my office to review and sign your contract. Sleep on it.”

  “Fine,” I hiss. The grip in my hair tightens and my eyes water. “Let me go.”

  He lets me go so quickly, I feel dizzy. Rubbing my scalp, I look at him through eyes that water despite my most valiant effort. “Just so you know?” I say in a wobbly voice. “I like Liam the dom like fifty times better than Liam the businessman.”

  “Fair enough,” he says, owning the status of business fucking prick.

  “Maybe a hundred times better!”

  God!

  “Let’s go to Tobias,” he says. I swallow hard.

  I want to like the man I’ll spend the next two months with. But I can’t.

  He’s only a means to an end.

  I’ll maintain my control. I’ll play it safe. I’ll focus on the money that’s coming to me and how that will make my life easier.

  How funny that he thinks he actually has to give me rule number six.

  Fall in love with him? I don’t even like him.

  “Will we have our own safeword?” I ask him. He’s straightening up the bed, then picks up his phone and glances at it. When he responds, he’s distracted, and I already feel dismissed.

  “We don’t need our own safeword,” he says. “We’re not a real couple. Scening here is good enough, so the club safeword will do.”

  And somehow, that stings.

  It was silly of me to hope that he actually did like me. To even entertain that thought is so damn dangerous, I can’t allow myself to go there. He doesn’t like me at all, he likes control and a hot little pussy to stick his arrogant dick into.

  Whoa. Geez, this guy brings out the most venomous thoughts.

  True, though, my inner voice counters.

  Is it so bad to be used by a hot guy like him and paid generously? There are a lot worse things I could do for that money and Verge is safe.

  Safeish.

  Jesus, I need mental help.

  “Okay,” I tell him. “Apple it is.”

  Opening the door, he gestures for me to go out first, a bored expression on his face. I exit the room, stepping as far away from him as I can, but in one firm stride, he’s got my hand in his massive one, and hell if I don’t like how that feels. God, I wish I didn’t.

  It’s okay. Just pretend. Just for now. Enjoy what you can, I tell myself.

  So, I do. I walk by his side with my hand in his, painfully aware of every eye on us as we walk past the dungeon and into the main bar area. To my surprise, couples swarm around us like we’re celebrities, but Liam dismisses each one with a frown and flick of his palm.

  “Not now,” he says, like he’s used to dealing with paparazzi and news crews. Hell. I guess he is. I catch Travis’s eye at the bar, and to my shock, he actually winks at me and gives me a thumbs up. I can’t help but giggle at that, which earns me a sidelong look of disapproval from Liam, but whatever.

  “What’s so funny, little girl?” he asks.

  “Oh, nothing,” I tell him. And it isn’t anything, really.

  But Tobias isn’t in his office. When we reach the front, Liam’s car is already waiting.

  “I’ll talk to Tobias. You go home and get some rest,” he instructs. “Your first class tomorrow is when?”

  “Ten,” I tell him.

  “Be in my office by nine,” he instructs. “Manuel will take you home. I’ve just messaged him to come.”

  Wait. “You’re not coming?” I ask. Why does that make my heart sink?

  I hate him. I don’t need him to escort me anywhere.

  “I’m staying here tonight,” he says, giving me a look that’s cold and distant. “Go home. In the future, when you’re in bed, I want you to text me.”

  “Okayyyyy...But you know, you can’t boss me around quite yet,” I tell him.

  A corner of his lip quirks up, and I can’t tell if that’s a victory for me or not. I blink in surprise when he sits on the little loveseat in the main lobby and tugs me onto his knee. God, it feels good sitting on his lap, even if I do hate him.

  “I’m too heavy for this,” I protest. I’m no waif, but he’s a pretty big guy. His only response is a sharp crack to my ass.

  “Hey!”

  “Remember that first night you made a comment about your body, little girl?” He’s brushing the hair off my neck. I shiver.

  “Liam,” I say, and this time I’m pleading. The up and down of my emotions is making me fairly nauseous. “Why do you call me a little girl? I’m not a little girl at all.”

  “Would you prefer little one?” he asks, the angry edge of his voice gone. Oh, God, I can’t take it when he goes all gentle on me. It’s so much harder to hate him then.

  “Little one?” I ask him. “That’s…Well…” my voice trails off. I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me feel… I don’t know. Warm and safe and… vulnerable.

  “You like it,” he says, drawing me to his chest. “Don’t you, little one?”

  “I do,” I admit. “When we… play here… will you call me that?”

  “That and so much more,” he says. His watch lights up, and too soon, he pushes me gently off his knee.

  “Your ride is here.” He leads me to the door, and Geoff gives him a chin lift and me a little wave.

  “Liam, heard the scene was a hit,” he says. “Well done.”

  “Thank you.” The guys chat briefly, before Liam takes me outside.

  It means something that the members of Verge respect him. Maybe it’s only me he’s a jerk around.

  And is he even a jerk? Or am I just hardened toward him?

  But when he opens the door to the car and instructs Manuel to take me home, I have my answer. He’s already looking away with a bored expression.

  “Good night,” he says. “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late for your ride.”

  He shuts the door and he’s gone.

  I’ve imagined any tenderness. This is a business transaction for him, no more, no less.

  And that’s what I need.

  I don’t need feelings to complicate my life. This is exactly what I need.

  A business transition with clear cut terms.

  No strings attached.

  I tell myself this over and over. Too many times.

  It’s nice to get a ride home. The interior of his car is warm, and I like how it makes me feel safe. I’ll enjoy the perks of this proposition as long as I can.

  The ride is too short, and soon I’m home. I thank Manuel, and before I leave, he says, “I’ll be here in the morning to pick you up at 8:45 a.m. Mr. Alexander’s orders.”

  God. I’m so not used to this type of treatment.

  “Alright,” I tell him. “If he insists.”

  “That he does.”

  Of course.

  I go upstairs and check on Bailey and Ben, then take a few minutes to tidy up the apartment. I place a few drinking glasses in the dishwasher and wipe down the counters, then get myself ready for bed. And as I do, I replay the scene in the club. I need to remind myself that there’s more than money I’ll enjoy during this time with him. I can get a good taste of the club scene, and maybe I’ll see if it’s really for me. And hell, if I didn’t enjoy a little of what he has to offer me.

  My mind is at war with so many questions, and if I’m honest, fears. What exactly is it that I fear? My mind instantly goes back to rule number six.

  No falling in love.

  I roll my eyes again, even though no one sees me but my ceiling. As if.

  Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. No how, no way.

  What is it that I fear, then? I’m really not sure, and I don’t want to think about that anymore.

  I think about paying my back rent and next month’s rent. I think about buying Bailey the clothes that she needs and Ben a new pair of sneakers. I think about going to the grocery store and actually buying some decent food, rather than the cheapest things that will fill our bellies.

  I smile to myself. It would be nice to get some real makeup for once. Something that will make me look pretty. And I really should get some clothes if I’m going to be going to Club Verge more often. The day after tomorrow, I have a brief shift at the bookstore, and now I’m looking forward to it. I need Marla and Chandra’s advice so damn bad.

  I shift on the bed and twist and turn, trying to settle down. I’m both energized and exhausted, and for a brief moment I wish I had my phone so I could text Liam. For some reason, the idea of texting him before bed feels like it would bring a little closure to the night.

  I normally fall into bed so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. And I need rest. But as I lay there, I play over the night.

  The sensation of the flogger on my body.

  What would it feel like on naked skin?

  Liam’s mouth between my legs, his skillful tongue making my bones turn to jelly, as he brought me to climax so hard.

  What will it feel like to have him inside me?

  I’m no virgin, but I’ve never made love to a man who commands a situation like he does.

  The feel of his thumb against my cheek, my jaw cupped in his hand. The smell of leather and grace, the essence of confidence and power. The sound of his breaths mingled with mine, my erratic heartbeat and soft mews.

  As my eyes grow heavy with sleep, I make a vow to myself. I’ll take what he gives me, the surface level intimacy we’ll share for a time. But I will only give him the bare minimum. What I’ve promised on paper. No more, no less.

  I finally fall into a fitful sleep.

  * * *

  “Cora?” Bailey stands in the doorway, dressed for the day, and I hear Ben in the bathroom.

  “Morning, honey,” I tell her, yawning. The clock tells me it’s nearly seven, so I toss off the covers and stretch.

  “You okay?” she asks, her head tilted to the side. She’s brushing her hair but eyeing me with concern. “You mumbled a lot in your sleep last night.”

  “Did I?” I suppose it’s only natural. I mean, doesn’t everyone go to bed thinking about the flogging scene they just had with their future master? I giggle to myself.

  “Good to see you smile,” she says, with a smile of her own before she heads toward the kitchen. I grab a box of cereal in the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee, but when I pull the milk out, it’s expired. Damn. Rifling through the cabinets, I find a loaf of bread, but we’re out of butter and jelly.

  Today, this will change. I take a deep breath, determined that I won’t let this get me down. I’ve got an opportunity here, and I’m not going to waste it.

  “Hey, guys, I’ve got good news,” I tell them. I reach for my purse and take out a few bills. “I got a… special job offer.” God, I’ve got to finalize my story. “And I’ll tell you later what it is.”

  Bailey gives me a curious look while she slides her coat on. “Cora, how can you work another job? Honest to God, you’re already—”

  “I’m going to figure it out,” I tell her. “I promise.” I can’t tell her I’m not working for Verge, though I will be working at Verge. “But tonight, we’re going to order real pizza, and I’m going to fill you in with all the juicy details.”

  “Really,” Bailey says, but all Ben heard was pizza. He whoops and pumps his fist. I hand them the cash and feel kinda proud of myself, shoving away any residual guilt.

  “So here,” I tell them. “Get yourselves a breakfast sandwich or donut or something on the way to school, okay?”

  Bailey takes the money hesitantly. I’ve taught her too well.

  “Okayyy.” She says warily. “And yeah, I want details later. All the details. Okay?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I lie. Like hell I’m giving her all the details. “Go, before you’re late.”

  They leave, and I take a frantic look at the time. I’ve got to move. I grab my schoolbooks and throw them into my bag, then toss my bag on the couch. I plan on taking a quick shower, but then I remember today’s day one. Damn it. I need to really take care things like shaving my legs.

  So, I pamper and preen as best I can, rapidly shaving my legs and slathering on lotion, then choosing my nicest pair of jeans and a snug-fitting pale green sweater. My thick hair will take forever to dry, and I have hardly any makeup, so I’ll have to do my best. Feeling a bit guilty, I sneak into Bailey’s room and borrow some lip gloss, mentally promising myself I’ll get her new stuff when I get paid.

  Shit. I have like one minute left.

  I grab a light jacket and my bag, then race out the door, ignoring the smell of cigarettes and pot that lingers in the hallway. I smile to myself when I see the gleaming car out front, and suddenly remember he said he’d have the money wired to my account this morning. Yes. God, yes. My throat feels tight and my nose tingles. I could get money in a lot of other ways, and maybe I’m betraying myself a little with this. But I’m not going to think about it. Not now.

  Manuel stands beside the door of the car and bows his head to me.

  “Good morning, miss,” he says.

  “Glad you didn’t call me ma’am,” I say. “Or we’d have to have words.”

  His eyes crinkle around the edges with a smile as he opens the door. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Manuel,” I say with a huff. “Do I have to speak to Mr. Alexander about this?”

  To my utter shock, he immediately sobers and shakes his head. “No, Miss Myers,” he says. “My apologies.”

  I feel ashamed of myself, as if I’m abusing some kind of authority I didn’t even know I had. Good God, what kind of power does Liam yield?

  “No worries,” I say, feeling like a total fake. I’m just a college girl wearing borrowed lip gloss and thrift store clothes, climbing into this expensive car and wielding power that isn’t mine. But before I can say another thing, the door closes and I’m in the luxurious leather interior. I pinch the bridge of my nose to get my shit together, and my stomach churns. I haven’t had anything to eat, which is probably just as well. It would be nice if I lost a few pounds if he’s going to see me naked again.

  If?

  Then I remember how he sat me on his knee and gave me a warning smack for talking badly about my body.

  Maybe… maybe he likes me just the way I am. I don’t quite get it, but it’s a weird concept.

  I’m so used to thinking of myself as a work in progress.

  If only I could lose some weight. If only I could take the time to be well-rested and eat well. If only I had my degree. If only…

  I square my shoulders. Today, I have a job to do, and when I put my mind to something, I do it well. The car cruises to a stop outside a high-rise with gleaming mirrored windows that go so far up, I have to crane my neck to see.

  “We’ve arrived, Miss Myers.”

  Twelve

  Liam

  I glance at my watch and tap a button to Manuel.

  “Was she on time?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Alexander,” he says.

  “Good.” Punctuality matters to me, and I’ve got a lot to cover before Manuel brings her to class.

  I answer four emails before I hear a knock on the door. “Come in,” I say, distracted.

  “Ms. Myers is here to see you, sir,” Mandy says, opening the door and ushering Cora in.

  “Have a seat, Ms. Myers,” I say, not even looking her way. Mandy shuts the door, as she knows I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m working. Scowling at the screen, I discard three emails of no consequence and check my agenda. Then I turn to Cora.

  “Good morning, Mr. Alexander,” she says politely, but there’s a hardness to her jaw and glint in her eyes that I already know to be a warning.

  “Good morning, Ms. Myers,” I say. Formalities it is.

  There are so many things I want to do to her. So many things I want to say. We need this contract signed as soon as possible.

 

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