Weak for Him

Weakness - 1

by

Lyra Parish

To Will for loving me no matter who I am, or who I want to be.

To live is the rarest thing in the world.

Most people just exist.

―OSCAR WILDE

One

The real estate agent marked a giant black X beside the line at the bottom of the contract and handed me the pen. I understood the terms and conditions. I had read them at least twenty times over the past few days, but as my pen hit the paper, I froze.

"Sign on this line, Jennifer. Unless you're having second thoughts."

She tapped the paper with her pink manicured nail, causing her bracelets to jingle.

The people who wanted the house said they would convert it into a bed and breakfast for all the tourists visiting the Golden Triangle, a quaint area in Texas, known for oil and the home of Janis Joplin. I would miss the little things, like the Groves town square and the Pecan Festival, but they would always hold a place in my heart. The worn boards, double windows, and wraparound porch would be fully appreciated by someone else.

Every detail about the house, the way the shutters haphazardly hung on the upper windows, the boards that creaked on the stairs, and the rounded corners of the island in the kitchen, were a constant reminder of how my life changed when a reckless driver slammed into my parents' SUV.

I didn't want the burden anymore. I had dealt with enough.

Instead of studying for final exams, I planned two funerals.

Instead of walking across the stage during my college graduation, I buried my parents.

I couldn't celebrate without them. I wouldn't.

Tragic situations sometimes forced people into adulthood, causing one to take a leap of faith they might not have taken before. If I learned one thing from the accident, it was the fragility and preciousness of life. How a person should tell someone if they loved them and not hold back their feelings regardless of the consequences. I didn't tell my parents how much I loved or appreciated them, and every day without them, I regretted it.

The two-story farmhouse was a reminder of the memories, of my childhood, and allowed the ghosts of my parents to linger and haunt.

Devastation could make a person stronger, or bitter, or depressed, and I didn't want to stick around to find out which I had acquired. The longer I stayed, the less time it would take to lose myself. I wanted—no, needed—out.

I sucked in a deep breath and signed my name beside the overemphasized X.

Mrs. Shirley, the old bleached-blonde Barbie that used to babysit me when I was a child, smiled at the signature.

"Thanks, honey. I'll let the buyers know everything is final."

Her country accent seemed fake, almost how actors portrayed Texans on TV, but it was natural; it had been like that for as long as I could remember.

Signing that paper lifted a million pounds from my shoulders. The shackles had released, and I was free from the responsibility, the reminders, and everything that came with the house. I blinked the tears away. I refused to cry. Shirley continued to make small talk as I loaded the last of my belongings into the trunk of the Honda.

"Where should I send your copies of the finalized paperwork?" she asked as I slipped into the drivers seat. I rolled down the window.

"To my P.O. box in town. I'm having my mail forwarded there for now."

"So no address in Vegas, yet?"

"No ma'am, not yet."

"You know you don't have to leave, Jennifer. There are people here who love you."

"Yeah. There are people that I loved that are no longer here. There's no reason to stay anymore."

She leaned into the window, hugged my neck, and kissed my cheek.

"Take care, doll. Call us if you need anything."

"I will."

But she knew I wouldn't call.

It was an empty expression that she genuinely meant, but one that I would never claim. I was an independent kid, and not much had changed as I grew into an adult.

We exchanged one last smile, and then I put the car in reverse and sped away. As I cruised down the shell driveway, I took one last look into the rear view mirror, where she stood on the porch, watching me drive into the morning sun. I told myself I wouldn't look back, but I had to take one last glimpse at my old life, the crooked shutters, and the pasture with the tall crisp grasses, and the fence that didn't connect all the way around.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

The house faded away until it was miniature, and then non-existent.

The GPS read twenty-four hours.

I would stop halfway, and then continue.

The only choice I gave myself was to live like the sun wouldn't rise tomorrow.

Las Vegas bound, finally.

Two

Exhaustion blanketed my body. So much, I contemplated crawling from the seat of my car to the hotel lobby. My legs needed a stretch, and I couldn't drive another inch. The golden Valet sign seemed like a godsend.

Barefoot, and with a purpose, I slid out of the Honda, stretched my arms to the heavens, and let every vertebra in my back crunch. Instead of driving to the parking garage, I threw the keys to the valet driver. He shook his head like every tourist did it, and walked over to the little podium, scribbled some things on a clipboard, and handed me a slip of paper.

Before I walked into the hotel, I took in the bright lights, sounds of zooming cars, and chatter of the tourists on the streets. Smells of life and food and old hotels made my body light up with excitement. Regardless of exhaustion—and the constant emptiness that never seemed to leave—the city life exhilarated me.

Everything I dreamed of was under my feet: change.

Nothing but sidewalk pavement surrounded me.

Oh, I couldn't wait to get acquainted with the city.

Unceremoniously, I grabbed my suitcase, and headed toward the grand entrance.

Once inside the revolving doors, the sounds of tokens dropping on metal and musical blings echoed in the distance. Gambling and booze were only a few steps away, and I would never forget the blown glass flowers that spilled from the ceiling. Deep blues, oranges, and yellows hovered above, coaxing me into their colorful spell. The lobby held the sounds and distinct smells of freedom and sin.

"Can I help you?" the petite woman at the front desk asked. A high-pitched, nasally voice escaped her. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and smiled.

"I have a reservation. Jennifer Downs."

In a few clicks, and a slide of a credit card, I had the key to my room.

"Would you like help with your bags?"

Although the bellman wore white gloves and a cute little hat and practically begged me to take him away from his post, I refused. Two suitcases were no problem, and I never knew how much to tip.

"Enjoy your stay at the Bellagio, Ms. Downs. If you need anything, please dial zero."

I pushed the arrow for the elevator.

Once the golden elevator doors closed, I caught a glimpse of my hair. Disheveled like I had run through a hurricane. My clothes were wrinkled from sitting, but I didn't care. All I cared about was Vegas.

Before I let my excitement get the best of me, I sucked in a deep breath and smiled. As I hummed to Frank Sinatra, the elevator dinged and opened, releasing me onto the seventeenth floor.

I walked to the end of the hallway and inserted the hotel key into the little slot. The mechanism turned green and clicked.

Blue walls, blue accents, and blue curtains—the color of serenity and calmness. The room was breathtaking. Not because of the king size bed or HDTV on the wall, but because of the amazing view.

I dropped my bags and moved to the giant windows. Tall buildings, city lights, and mountains lined the horizon. I wanted to encapsulate my emotions and remember the moment forever.

The city drew me in, and called my name as if I were meant to be there, a divine intervention that patiently waited for each piece of the puzzle to be placed. As I stared at my surroundings, I knew that moving to Vegas was the right choice.

After staring at the pastures of pavement for god knows how long, I unpacked my clothes, and placed them in the dresser drawers. I took my phone charger out of the side pocket of my suitcase and plugged my phone in next to the bed. The whole drive, I refused to answer although I could hear ringing and dinging until it finally died. Even once settled, I didn't have the energy to look at the calls and texts.

When I entered the bathroom, I didn't expect a separate tub and shower, shiny tile floors, or honeysuckle-scented bubble bath. The sweet scent reminded me of summer, sugar, and sunshine. Two capfuls would do the job.

As soon as I turned on the water, it instantly became steamy hot. Little rainbow-colored bubbles hugged the side of the fiery, sweet water, and I could not get out of my clothes fast enough. I practically ripped them off. Water, warm and comforting, relaxed my muscles. Steam filled the bathroom, causing the mirror to fog. I leaned my back against the jets and closed my eyes. Slowly, my body gave in, and my muscles turned to gelatin.

I grabbed the little bottle of honeysuckle body wash and the shower pouf, and lightly rubbed up and down my arms, my legs, and in between. I let go of the fluffy sponge, positioned my arms on the edge, and sunk deeper into the tub.

Although my skin had a hint of pink from the hotness and my fingers wrinkled from the amount of time I lingered in the tub, I refused to get out.

My breathing slowed, and before I fell asleep the bathroom door creaked opened.

I tried to cover my naked body, but not before the man in a designer black suit got an eye full.

His eyes, the color of grass, met mine.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss," he said with a British accent, surprised.

"Get out!" I yelled and threw the body wash. He ducked as the bottle flew inches past his head. Damn, if my hands weren't wet, I would have nailed him. My aim was usually impeccable.

"I'm sorry!" he said, and closed the door, dodging a little plastic bottle to the face. It rolled to the floor.

"What the hell? Get out!" I screamed back.

Anger filled me. I struggled out of the bathtub, splashing water onto the tile, and grabbed the fluffy cotton towel before wrapping it around my sopping wet body. I twisted my hair in a tight, wet bun, put on some jogging pants, and slipped on an old, worn T-shirt. Forget wearing a bra and panties, a manager would hear from me immediately. There's nothing like a pissed off Texan on a mission.

I stormed to the elevator. I could have taken the stairs, but I'd rather my anger be boiling over by the time I made it to the lobby. The mirrors in the elevator showed every sin. My nipples were hard, and I could see straight through my white shirt.

Out of all colors to choose.

For a second, I thought about going upstairs and changing, but instead, I crossed my arms to hide my body. The last thing I needed was someone gawking at the girls. Bringing attention to myself was never something I wanted, and I felt so exposed.

I stormed toward the counter where Mr. Eye-full-in-a-nice-suit coincidentally stood. He complained to the woman at the front desk, and I overheard bits and pieces of the conversation as I waited behind the "wait-here" sign.

"No… Yes, there was a woman in that particular room… You must have made a mistake and double booked the room… I understand you're the manager. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, sir. You're Finnley Felton. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, and we hope this incident does not discourage your future stays. We will be upgrading you to a suite, and can guarantee this will not happen again," the overly happy woman said.

She handed him a new key, and he rudely ripped it from her hand. As he turned, he made direct eye contact with me, and I cowered. I had only been in Vegas for approximately an hour and a stranger had already seen me fully naked.

Thank god he is a stranger and I will never have to see him again.

"And here is the young woman I walked in on," Mr. Felton said.

With a voice as sweet as candy, he said, "I do apologize, Miss."

Little specks of light brown sprinkled the inside of his irises. His green sparkled like emeralds. At a closer inspection of his face, I realized he wasn't much older than me, mid-twenties—early thirties, maybe. I opened my mouth to reply, but he was gone before I could say a word.

The woman at the counter would hear an earful from me.

"Do you have any idea what just happened to me?" I said.

"Yes, Ms. Downs, and I would like to apologize for any inconvenience this mishap has brought to you. In return, we will be compensating your room for the next two nights. Also, feel free to order anything via room service."

"Do you think this takes back the fact that he saw me completely naked?"

"Oh."

The woman didn't know what I experienced.

"Ms. Downs. I am very sorry for the inconvenience. Is there anything I can do to rectify the situation?"

"Actually, I would like a bottle of wine," I said, matter-of-factly.

"I will have room service deliver it right away," she said.

I walked away without thanking the woman. My mother had taught me better manners, but at that moment, I didn't care.

Mindlessly, I punched seventeen on the elevator and within a blink I was at my room. Outside of my door stood a woman with a bottle of wine, and two glasses on a silver platter. Bitchiness worked, and it felt good.

Once inside, I sat the platter on the dresser and changed into my bra and panties. After pouring myself a glass of wine, I pulled the chair up to the window, rested my feet on the little ledge, and soaked in the city lights.

This is what a queen must feel like.

Tonight, I will get sloppy drunk. First time for everything.

I tasted wine at a friend's wedding, but after a glass, the desire to drink vanished. But the wine hadn't been expensive and sweet, or cranberry like the kind I had in my hand.

Without another thought, I picked up the bottle and drank straight from the top. I didn't want to be responsible. I wanted to let loose, relax, and pretend I was important.

The most important woman in the Bellagio.

Hell, if I were pretending, I wanted to be the most important woman in all of Vegas.

My head swam as the alcohol moved through my bloodstream, making everything seem hot. Then my face went tingly, and I had to pee.

As I stood, I slightly lost my balance and placed my hand on the window to steady me. The cool glass felt nice on my palm.

I raised the bottle toward the city streets and the urge to be wild without worry or care overcame me. But that wasn't me, must have been the alcohol talking.

"Fuck it!" I said, aloud.

Tonight, I would drink myself drunk. I had a sexy man see me naked and in front of the entire city of Vegas, I stood confidently in my bra and panties.

I lived on the edge.

Well, the edge for me.

Three

I woke with a headache from hell.

Stupid-ass wine. Stupid-ass Jennifer.

As I walked past the bottle, I picked it up. Bone dry. I had drank the entire bottle and passed out.

Hangovers sucked royally, and the queen needed coffee.

I stood and shut the curtains because my eyes were just a little too sensitive to light. Gah.

Before entering the bathroom, I caught sight of a black envelope under my door. Who still used stationery? It seemed so old-fashioned. I peeled the golden seal from the back and opened the letter. A business card fell to the ground.

Ms. Downs,

Again, I would like to sincerely apologize for disturbing you last night. The hotel, I hope, compensated you for their foolish mistake. I overheard you in the lobby, telling a woman you drove from Texas to Vegas alone. Impressive. You must be a woman of determination. If you are here for the long-term, and are looking for a job, I would love to give you a chance. Feel free to call my office.

Regards,

Finnley Felton

The neatest calligraphy-like handwriting filled the pages with the most perfectly curled F's.

Finnley.

I remembered the shock on his face when I threw the shampoo bottle. No way Mr. Eye-full would see me again or become my boss. Out of the question. How embarrassing would it be to look him in the eye each day?

I placed the envelope on the dresser next to the empty bottle of wine, and slowly pulled on the jogging pants and T-shirt I'd left crumpled on the floor. My first and only interview started at 2:00 p.m.; considering it was 12:00 p.m., I had plenty of time.

After ordering a pastry from room service, on the house, I dressed. I felt devious and wanted to be sexy business professional. Black bra, black panties, and thigh-highs, it would be my little secret.

I slipped on the skirt suit, tucked my hair behind my ears, and lightly applied makeup. Light pink cheeks, neutral colored eye shadow, and a shiny lip gloss made me feel well put together. The black suit went well with my bright red high heels. Nothing said hire me more than those shoes.

I planned my Vegas life from the time I left the farmhouse. I would work the accounting clerk job at Simon & Fitch until I qualified to test for my Certified Public Accountant license. After interning for a year, and working my way up the corporate ladder, I would become a partner at the firm; buy a new comfortable car, and a nice house.

Landing that job was the most essential piece of my overall plan to stay in Vegas. It would jumpstart my professional career while keeping my mind away from Texas.

Simon & Fitch was only fifteen minutes away, and I decided to leave before the nervousness completely took over. I needed to calm down as I rehearsed the different interview questions that most prospective employers asked. What were my weaknesses and strengths? Why did I feel I would be a good match for the position?

Arriving early wouldn't hurt. I heard Mr. Simon hated tardiness. Being early meant being punctual, and I had punctuality.

I tucked my clutch under my arm as I waited for the elevator.

My heels clicked on the floor as I walked through the foyer, which acted as my runway to success. I worked it like a catwalk.

The blinding sun shone in my eyes and I covered them like a salute as I strutted to the valet area. An older gentleman asked for my Valet slip and scurried away to retrieve my vehicle.

Fifteen minutes had passed before he returned. The time continued to tick. "Ms. Downs. Your car has a flat, and we are unable to move it from the parking space. Would you like for us to call Road Side Assistance, or do you prefer to change the tire yourself?"

I closed my eyes and opened them before I spoke. "I can't change it dressed like this. How long until they can get here?"

He picked up the special red valet phone and made a few calls.

"One to two hours before they can make it out." I looked down at my phone. I didn't have time for that!

"That's no problem. Please tell them to come out, insurance is in the upper visor, I really have to make it to this interview at Simon & Fitch before 1:45 p.m."

But I was already late by my standards.

"Do you have a shuttle for patrons of the hotel?"

"Yes ma'am, but it only brings you to a few designated places like the airport."

"Shit."

Blood pumped through my veins. The stress, the feeling that no one was here to help, made me realize how alone I truly was. I had no one to call.

Taking responsibility, I thanked the valet guy and ran toward a taxi, in fucking heels. I had no idea what I was doing. I never called for a taxi before, but I threw my hand in the air and waved them on. One zoomed over to me, and I hopped in the back seat.

The driver looked no older than twenty-five with a baseball cap and Ray Bans. Hipster driver was not what I expected at all.

Breathless, I said, "Simon & Fitch, please. If you can get me there before 1:50 p.m., I will pay you triple fair."

My phone read 1:38 p.m.

I had exactly seventeen minutes to my destination.

The taxi whipped in and out of traffic like a bee traveling through flowers. I closed my eyes and hoped he wouldn't wreck. Since the accident, I got a little skittish with crazy driving. I wanted to live, and I never wanted to experience whiplash. It probably sucked more than a wine hangover.

We crossed two lanes of traffic, nearly rear-ended a few cars, and almost completely ran over several pedestrians jaywalking. Curse words, a few middle fingers, and fist shakes were involved. The driver had road rage and wasn't afraid to show it.

Fabulous. If I was to die, I wanted to look death in the face and take it with pride.

I straightened in the seat.

"Sit back, honey, Imma professional. Nothing to worry about."

My heart wanted to jump from my chest, but I didn't let it. I did what the hip guy said, and sat back and hoped an anxiety attack wouldn't submerge.

Maybe I wasn't as brave as I thought.

Thinking back to my previous statement, I should have added, triple fair, if, and only if, I arrived in one piece.

Interview questions flashed in my mind. Why did I want this position? What were my strengths and weaknesses?

The next thing I knew, the cab inched closer to the blue building. I pulled out my phone, 1:57.

Holy shit! Where did the time go?

After a screeching halt where he almost jumped the curb, I pulled a hundred from my wallet and handed it to the cabbie.

"This one is on me. You can owe me one."

He handed the hundo back to me. I crumbled it into a tight ball and threw it on the floorboard.

"Hey!"

"Thanks!" I took off the sexy red heels and ran into the building. My nerves felt like mush, and sweat formed on my brow. Once inside the double doors, I placed the heels back on my feet and rushed to the secretary's desk.

2:00 p.m. I was late.

Breathlessly, I forced out my name to the disinterested secretary.

"Jennifer. Downs."

The woman rolled her eyes at me and looked at the clock.

"I am sorry Ms. Downs, your interview was scheduled for 2:00 p.m. Mr. Simon is apt and expects all prospective job candidates to be the same.

"But it's 2:00 right now. Please. I had a flat and–"

"Let me phone the interview panel."

My phone clicked to 2:01 p.m. Rude Secretary waited on the phone, and I heard the mumbling of a husky voice on the other line as she asked if I would be seen for the interview.

"I am sorry Ms. Downs. Our committee thanks you for your time and wishes you luck in all your future endeavors."

My world crashed down. Every plan I had crumbled.

How could a person's dreams be flattened so quickly?

Tears welled in my eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to sit down and cry on the floor. Everything rested inside of the Simon & Fitch corporate office: a career, and ultimate happiness. The most elite accounting firm in the country denied me because I failed the simplest test: being on time for an interview, one that was practically impossible to get.

"Thank you. Good luck," the woman muttered again, shooing me away. I took my cue to leave.

I found my way to the front of the building and stared up at the whitewashed sky. Everything seemed to blur. Always prepare for the worst was my motto and for the first time, I hadn't.

Rejection. I hated the way it burned going down.

No taxi waited for me, and I had no transportation to get back to the Bellagio. Instead of calling a cab or Googling a service, I walked.

Maybe fifteen blocks in high heels would make me feel better? Make me feel pain, make me feel alive, and give me time to learn from the situation. Replay all the steps I should have taken beforehand to ensure that it never happened again. I would drive myself mad with the should-have could-haves.

Maybe coming to Vegas was a mistake?

No. I wouldn't give up yet.

My feet ached. Fifteen blocks turned into thirty.

And I cried until my face turned red. I knew when I walked into the Bellagio, I looked like hell, and the reflection in the elevator proved it.

My Vegas dreams came to an abrupt halt, and I didn't want them to. I had enough cash to survive for a while, but I needed something that would provide sustenance. No dead-end jobs. I wanted a career, something that I could hold on to that was consistent in a world that had no consistency.

Once inside the room, I took off the stupid, sexy shoes that hurt my feet, and lay on the bed.

My new life seemed exciting yesterday.

Today it all went to shit.

I couldn't handle another month on the emotional roller coaster.

As I sat on the end of the bed, I caught sight of the black envelope on the dresser.

I stared at it for a few minutes then picked up the phone.

It was Vegas or Texas.

I chose Vegas.

Four

Within minutes, Mr. Felton returned my phone call and asked if I could meet him at his office in the next thirty minutes.

Only one problem, I had no way to get there.

"Sure. I'll be there as soon as I can, but I have to call a cab becau–"

"No. I'll send Charlie, my driver, to meet you."

Driver?

No use arguing. He wasn't the type of man to lose an argument. I knew that, and didn't even know him.

Instead of insisting, I thanked him and fell back on the bed.

The soft blanket snuggled around my body, and all I wanted to do was relax after my stressful day, but instead, I stood, fixed my hair, and reapplied makeup to cover up the puffiness in my eyes.

My hotel phone rang. The front desk let me know my driver had arrived to escort me. I took one deep breath, and grabbed my resume before leaving.

"Hello, Ms. Downs. My name is Charles Harbrow, but you can call me Charlie." His grayish white hair reflected in the sun, and he had a sincere voice.

"Hi. I'm Jennifer. It's a pleasure."

After a firm handshake, he escorted me outside. A black, glossy limo stretched across the covered driveway. Charlie opened the door, and I smiled at him before sliding across the slick comfortable leather. I could get used to this kind of treatment.

Within minutes, it seemed, I made my way up the sidewalk to a huge building, one larger than Simon & Fitch.

Is it possible that I landed an interview at another successful corporation?

"Ms. Downs, I'll escort you inside."

I allowed him to walk with me to the clear elevator. I had never ridden in one that was totally glass.

"Once on the fifteenth floor, ask for Mr. Felton. Good luck." And the glass doors closed.

I could see everything: the atrium below, the small waterfall in the center, and windows to the offices that lined the walls. I didn't know what kind of business Mr. Felton ran, but it seemed legit, and corporate, and stable. Everything I wanted.

When I arrived at the top floor, a secretary, petite and pretty, escorted me to Mr. Felton's office. In the center of the door hung an engraved golden plaque with Finnley Felton in an elegant cursive script. Big curly Fs… Fancy.

Mr. Felton stood facing the windows in a neatly pressed suit. The black tie complemented the black suit, designer from head to toe. His green eyes met my brown gaze, and I smiled, but only received the ghost of one in return.

Once the secretary left us, I searched the room, trying to take in every little detail: abstract art on the wall, a conference table in the back, and a lounge area in the middle. The afternoon light cast a yellow glow in the room. A large oak desk, which screamed business executive, had two chairs tucked in front. The room looked comfortable, welcoming, but also professional.

The red velvet curtains that overlooked the atrium were jerked closed.

"Hi, Finnley. Thank y—"

"It's Mr. Felton."

My face flushed. How could I be so inconsiderate and unprofessional?

I immediately felt stupid.

"Mr. Felton. Thank you for allowing me to interview. I've brought my resume and a list of recommendations. I'd love to join your accounting team if you'd allow me."

I outstretched my hand and he left me standing there, awkwardly. The smile faded from my face as he leaned against the wooden desk with his arms crossed.

"Take off your clothes." His voice was low and silky.

"Excuse me?" The words hit me like cool water.

I don't think so, asshole.

"The interview has begun, Ms. Downs. If you'd like to join my team, you will do what I say and if you'd prefer not, you are more than welcome to turn around and walk that tight ass through the door, and we can pretend as if this never happened."

The fierce tone behind his English accent made me cower. I froze as I calculated my next move.

What the fuck?

The way he looked at me, exploring my body as if he were undressing me, made my stomach flip. No one had ever observed me that way. With a sprinkle of courage, I searched the blank matter-of-fact expression that covered his face. This man was all business.

As his long eyelashes hit the tops of his slightly sun-kissed cheeks, I closed my eyes to regroup my thoughts, then opened them quickly. I couldn't let my nerves get the best of me. He moved his messy hair behind his ears, and then sat on the desk, waiting, wanting, daring me to make my move.

"Have you decided? Or are we going to waste the good portion of my time daydreaming?"

I swallowed.

All I ever wanted to do was live in Vegas among the lights and fast-paced city. How did I get myself into this? Take off my clothes? I wasn't some cheap whore to be bossed around. The thought of undressing in front of him disgusted me… or did it?

My heart sped as he watched with a lust and want so fierce I shivered. It was now or never, you only live once, right?

I peered behind him and stared at the Vegas strip in the distance. With perfect plump lips, and straight white teeth, Mr. Felton smiled at me. In that very moment, I decided to gamble. I didn't know why because I wasn't much for risks. If anyone was a play-it-safe type of girl, it was me. But in that moment, I wanted to be someone different. I wanted to know the outcome of what waited on the other side. I played with lady luck to see what hand she dealt. Maybe I would get lucky.

He saw me naked already, right? Right?

I slowly unbuttoned the white silk shirt from top to bottom. My breathing increased with each button. The shirt slid from my shoulders and dropped to the floor in a little, crumpled pile. Self-consciousness danced with crazy as my breasts bulged from the top of my black lacy bra.

With steady hands, I unclasped and unzipped the gray skirt from my waist. It fell to the ground and I stepped from it, keeping my gaze to the floor. I paused and raised my eyes to meet his. They gleamed with delight and lust as he searched my body.

"Continue," he said in a gravelly whisper.

I had never taken my clothes off for anyone before. The being-sheltered-thing really made me feel more aware of my naked body. More than anything, I felt embarrassed.

I slowly released a breath with hopes to calm my nerves as I unclasped the bra. On the count of three, I told myself.

One.

I reached behind my back and fidgeted with the clasp.

Two.

Only one more to go.

Three.

I slowly removed the straps. That was it; the girls were free.

Completely exposed, I stood with my head held high and tried to tell myself I didn't strip down to bare nothingness in front of a stranger. But that's just what I did.

I inched the thigh-highs from the top of my legs.

"No. Leave those. But remove the rest."

"The rest?" But that left only my panties.

The black lace felt cold in my fingers. I took my time inching them down my legs and dropped them on my clothes.

"Shaven, completely. Not what I expected from you. Not. At. All."

"Why? Do I not look like I take care of myself or something?"

I stood, vulnerable in thigh-highs and red heels, in front of a beautiful monster. But in reality, I chose it, so monster was a bit harsh.

My breasts and sex were exposed to all of Vegas, or at least that's what it felt like.

Have I lost my fucking mind? Am I this desperate for a job?

A nagging voice inside answered back... Apparently, and yes.

Mr. Felton stalked toward me like a tiger with smooth and fluid movements.

Behind me, he slowly pulled my hair from its business professional bun until dark locks fell around my shoulders and above my breasts. Inspecting every part of me, he slowly circled around my body and let out a moan to let me know that he approved of what he saw. All I could do was peer out the window at the Vegas strip. What the fuck was I doing? I needed to know.

I no longer wanted to look at him. Instead, I focused on the little rays of sun that sprouted through the cotton-clouded sky, so blue that I practically got lost in it.

"Did you hear me?" He was speaking to me, but I had traveled a million miles away.

"Sorry, Mr. Felton, what did you say?"

"It's amazing.  Do you know how many women try to accomplish what you pull off so naturally?" The word naturally left his plump lips. Silence lingered.

The blood rushed to my face, and I could feel my cheeks turn pink.

"You're joking, right?" I tried to pull the edge from my voice, act like I didn't care, but I couldn't. I expected him to say something else. Something different like, "fuck me now or get on your knees" by the way he looked at me.

"You don't even know what you've got, do you? You're fucking amazing, Ms. Downs. You don't try to be beautiful... You just are. I have a handful of ladies that would die for these legs, waist, and for"—he cupped my breasts in his hands—"these."

I tensed, and he squeezed, but immediately let go. He continued to stand inches from my body, and I could smell him. Clean like soap and summer rain, and I almost soaked up his scent. The edge of his suit brushed across my nipples, and they were rock hard. My hormones, not whore moans, went haywire.

"My business is built upon confidence, Ms. Downs, confidence in whom you are, and with what you have. You've got the body, the perfect ass and tits, pretty face, the fierce attitude, but you seem embarrassed about your body, and I can't understand why."

I didn't speak.

"No. It's not…" He paused, chuckled, and then fell silent. I was confused.

"I can't believe I didn't recognize a virgin when I saw one. Usually I'm very good at spotting them, but you, you were a little hard to crack. I'm not fooled often."

"Is it written across my forehead or something?"

"I could tell when I touched you. Your reaction—you actually flinched. But the fact that you are standing here proves that you've got an inkling of a wild side. Beyond the self-doubt, another person waits to be unlocked and set free. Most women, a majority of them, actually, leave at the beginning… but you're not like them. You're different. You are the virgin who stayed."

He placed his hand under my chin and forced me to look into his emerald-green eyes.

"If you'll trust me, and agree to be one of my girls, I can make your wildest dreams come true."

"So let me get this straight." I put my hands on my hips. "I guess I'm not applying for an accounting position?"

"I've got the perfect position for you, but I don't think you can handle it."

With his face close, his warm breath tingled across my skin. He left me utterly speechless.

"Would you like a drink, Ms. Downs?"

"Yes, actually I would."

"Rocks or straight up?"

"Um. Rocks."

Mr. Felton sat my drink on the edge of the desk and stood on the other side. He watched me move across the room, naked and in red heels. As I approached my drink, he grinned. I reached over the desk and chugged it fast. My throat burned.

"Thirsty, are we? Refill?"

I slid the glass toward him. He poured Maker's Mark midway on the rocks glass, and I slammed it down.

"Another?"

"Bring it."

My face burned along with my body. I could feel the alcohol running through my veins, calming the tense muscles and washing my jittery nerves away with each drink. He poured another, filled the glass to the rim, and as I tried to swallow down the next round of liquid gold, he stopped me.

"When's the last time you've had hard liquor?"

"Never. I'm barely twenty-two."

"That doesn't matter. I know seventeen-year-olds that can drink me under the table."

I didn't answer. I didn't want to be seen as a prude twenty-two-year-old virgin who never drank a drop and cursed like a sailor.

Instead, I lifted the glass and tipped it up, making sure to get each drop.

"Why are you here, Ms. Downs?"

"I have no fucking clue."

He puckered his lips a bit and then raised an eyebrow.

"Then you should ask your body to tell you because you keep looking at me, and undressing and fucking me with your eyes. I'm making you an offer. Join my team. Or like I said at the beginning, you can walk that tight ass right back through the door it entered."

My mouth dropped open.

"My business is successful because I have the ability to make all of my clients fantasies come true, and profit from it."

"I don't think I fully understand what I would be committing to."

"Have you ever heard the saying sex sells?"

I nodded.

"Well, I'm the supplier."

With those words, my mind took a moment to catch up with my body that seemed so willing to do whatever Felton said.

Vulnerability coated me.

I crossed my legs and placed my arms over the girls as the reality of the situation revealed its self. The room began to spin.

Why the hell was I naked in his office?

Living. I almost forgot.

Five

"I sell sex. We are human. We have sexual, animalistic needs, and there is a market. It's nothing more than a physical act with a literal happy ending, but not for the faint of heart or frail."

"You sell women?"

"If you are implying I rent out whores, you are incorrect. I offer a high-end call service. There is a difference. We are class, not trash, and have clients that pay close to 20k for one night. My girls are at the top of the sexual pyramid. Rigorous interviews and compatibility tests are involved as well. I'm not running a meat service, Ms. Downs. It's offensive for one to imply so."

I opened my mouth and closed it immediately.

"My girls have rights and protection, legally and physically. The rules are strict, and everyone must abide by them, including the clients. Women beg to be a part of The Elite, and I deny thousands, yes, thousands per year."

"I… I…"

"I'm offering you something that not many are given, an opportunity to join my team, to become one of my girls."

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

"But…"

"I can offer you thirty a month, tax free. There is something about you, Ms. Downs, something that I want. Plus, I can get a very pretty penny for your virginity. Probably over a million, and you would earn eighty percent of that."

"Thirty? And wait, you want to… to sell my virginity?"

"Thirty thousand and yes. You'd be prime real estate, Ms. Downs. Of course, you don't have to make a decision now. Give me a call when you're ready to give yourself to me."

He handed me a black business card, different than the first, with white lettering and a red shiny imprint of a kiss on the back. Then he poured himself another round of Maker's Mark.

"Get dressed, Ms. Downs. It's time for you to leave. Call my extension when you've made your decision."

"I…"

"Get. Out. Now."

Instead of saying something immature–like fuck you, or you're an asshole–I walked to the pile of clothes on the floor, and quickly dressed. I grabbed the bobby pins from the floor, put my hair back into a loose bun, and glanced at him as I slipped out the door. Mr. Felton never turned around or spoke another word as he stared out the windows that overlooked the city.

The secretary at the front desk smiled at me as I walked by. Two women waited in chairs, both blonde and beautiful. Would they strip down to nothingness as soon as they walked in, just as I had? Would they walk in blind and walk out enlightened by the fact that someone capitalized on selling sex?

If I decided to do this, I would make over a quarter of a million dollars in the first year. That kind of money for a recent college graduate was unheard of.

As the elevator floated downward, I could only think about the offer. How valuable was my pride? When I came to Vegas, I wanted change, but a complete 360?

The limousine, slick and smooth with windows so dark I couldn't see inside, waited as Mr. Felton promised.

A bottle of iced champagne sat next to a crystal flute. Tied around the top was a note with perfect handwriting that read:

I'll be expecting your acceptance call.

-F

"Fucker," I whispered to the piece of paper and I ripped it into a million pieces.

But could I really do it? Could I really be one of "his girls," as he put it?

The limo stopped moving forward and seconds later the door swung open. Light flooded in, filling the dark car with rusted rays of sunshine. Charlie tipped his hat at me as I stepped out, and as I turned to say thank you, he returned to the driver's seat. The long car sped into the distance before it turned right.

Had everything really happened, or was it all a product of my imagination? Did I have a wild side hidden somewhere deep inside? I didn't think so; I'm too modest, too shy, too nice, I thought.

But if I were being honest, I wanted to find out. I wanted to be someone else, if only for a while.

I strolled to the hotel entrance and realized I had left my clutch with the hotel key back at Mr. Felton's office. Idiot. I didn't want to call until I made my decision.

The chipper woman at the front desk made a new key as if it were nothing. I thanked her and went upstairs to my room. I walked in, plopped down on the bed, and thought about my options.

To be one of Mr. Felton's girls, or not to be—that was the million-dollar question.

* * *

I lay on the hotel bed fully clothed as my phone buzzed next to my head.

Stupid text tone.

I picked up my cell phone, and opened my text messages from an unknown number.

You left your purse at my office, and I got your information from your brilliantly crafted resume.

I typed thanks and programmed Felton into my phone.

Boiiiiiing. Boiiiiiing. Another text.

Have you decided?

I threw the phone across the bed and ignored the rest of the texts. Maybe the silence would give him a hint?

I needed to leave the room and experience some part of Vegas. I ran to the bathroom and stripped off my clothes—for the second time that day—and jumped in the shower. I quickly shaved my legs and armpits, washed my hair, and even brushed my teeth in the shower. After drying my hair, I put on heavy eyeliner and mascara, and slipped on several sets of clothes before choosing a pair of dress pants, a sleeveless top, and a little suit jacket with sparkly buttons.

The hotel bar was boring as hell. Old people sat around eating fancy pretzels while watching a baseball game. I sipped more of the delicious cranberry wine and then the events of the day filled my mind, making my thoughts cloudy.

Straight ahead, several sized bottles lined the long wall. I wanted to talk to someone, anyone. I needed to tell somebody what I had done today, have him or her console me, and tell me it would be okay. Times like this, I wished my mother were here. I wished I could hear her voice again, her laugh, and the way she could make anything dark become light. Too fucking bad, so sad, a voice said in my head.

Fucking asshole logic won't quit talking.

I called my best friend Abbie.

"Hey, Ab."

"Oh my god. I've been worried about you. The next time I see you, I am beating your ass for not calling me when you got to the hotel. What the hell, Jen? No excuses."

"I know. God, I know."

"What's wrong? I can hear something is wrong in your tone."

She knew me.

She knew me better than I sometimes knew myself.

Although my parents weren't here and I didn't have any siblings, Abigail Green knew me like family.

"I've had a weird fucking day. I didn't get the interview with Simon & Fitch. I was late because of a flat."

She knew how much the interview meant to me. How much I had banked on landing that job. It was my only plan.

"Oh. So what will you do? Come back home?" Her voice brightened at the thought. She wanted me back home.

"No. I had another interview, actually."

"Really? I didn't know you had any more lined up."

"It was an accident, and a huge mistake. This guy walked in on me while I was bathing and offered me a job."

"Uh, yeah. That is weird."

"Well, it didn't happen like that completely, but it did. It sounds weird saying it out loud. And. I got naked in his office."

The men at the bar turned their heads and looked at me when the word "naked" left my lips.

"What are you fucking looking at?" I asked them.

They averted their eyes back to the game. I made sure to lower my voice and slightly turn my back toward them. Bastards.

"Sometimes you can be such a bitch," Abbie said.

"What do you expect? They were being nosey old perverts. Anyway."

I whispered in the phone. "He wants to sell my virginity."

"What?"

"He wants to se—"

"I heard you."

"Who the hell does he think he is? It pisses me off that I put myself in a vulnerable situation. I am Jennifer Downs. Most likely to succeed. Career-driven. Prudish. Pretty. Not some bimbo who undresses at the drop of a hat."

"But you did."

It sounded way worst when I told her about it. Every detail down to him telling me to take off my panties, but I refused to tell her how I felt. I've never been the type to say no to a challenge, so I had to. Especially those that come from some young prick CEO of a sex corporation.

Abbie and I said our goodbyes, she promised to come visit around Christmas, and told me to keep my options open, but not to do anything stupid. Always the scandalous girl, that one.

I couldn't keep my mind from Mr. Felton. The way the Gucci suit hugged his body in all the right places and how his velvety voice dropped low, but seemed to ring in my ears. The man was fucking intoxicating to the bone and I hated him for putting a spell on me. I didn't believe in love at first sight, but lust, yes, I was a firm believer of lust at first sight. That asshole.

But as I rode up the golden elevator, I could feel the ache between my legs.

What. The. Living. Fuck?

How could someone so rude, condescending, and assholish have this effect on me? Was assholish even a word? He even clouded my mind to the point of making up stupid words.

I sat on the edge of the bed and thought it over for an hour. Then I undressed down to nakedness and studied myself in the mirror. I could admit that I was a sweet lay, but really? Could I sell my virginity?

Before I turned out the light, I texted Mr. Finnley Felton one word.

Yes.

There was no response.

Six

The next day, bangs on my door woke me from a restless sleep. I grabbed the robe and wrapped it around my body. Seriously, sleeping nude was my new favorite thing.

More knocks pounded on the door.

God, what time was it?

The sun hadn't risen, so 6:00 a.m.? Maybe 7:00 a.m.?

Through the peephole, I saw Charlie, Mr. Felton's driver, standing with a garment bag in his hands. Before he could knock again, I swung open the door. His fist was suspended in the air.

"Good morning, Charlie." I smiled, and he did, as well.

"What can I do for you on this fine early Friday morning?"

"Mr. Felton instructed me to bring clothes, breakfast, and tell you to get dressed immediately."

He handed me the garment bag and a little box with a daisy sticker.

"I'll be waiting downstairs. You have ten minutes."

And as he walked off, he turned around and said, "Felton's schedule is tight today, so ten minutes tops."

The mention of Mr. Felton's name sparked electricity through my body.

Get yourself together, Jennifer.

I opened the black nylon bag and found a pair of red lacy panties and bra to match, along with business slacks and a button-up shirt.

I lusted over the pretty, petite panties and lacy bra. I may have a small obsession with beautiful lingerie.

Letting the robe slide from my shoulders, I removed the lace from the little pink hangers and slipped them on.

The lingerie fit like it was made for my body. I couldn't help but wonder how he knew. That type of thing wasn't on my resume, but then again, he most likely saw hundreds of women naked considering his profession. I wondered if he could guess any woman's size just by studying her bare body for a few seconds. Hell, he could probably guess with them fully clothed.

I slipped the straps over my shoulders and reached my hands behind and clasped. The way the bra hugged my body was pure perfection. The material fit like a glove, but softer, and sexier, that was for damn sure. The panties felt just as nice, except they were high cut in the bottom, not quite a thong but not quite a panty. I didn't usually wear that style, but wow, they made my ass look great. Tan skin paired with steamy red lingerie, I looked sexy. It's amazing what flawlessly designed lingerie could do to a woman's self-esteem.

I pulled the pressed slacks from the hanger, size seven—man he was good—and slipped on the button-up shirt that went all the way up to the neck. I looked like a prude with nastiness hidden underneath.

In the back of the garment bag, a scribbled note read:

Wear your hair down. –F. Felton

After a quick brush of the teeth, and another look in the mirror, I was out the door. Not full makeup because it wasn't necessary, just a little color on the lips.

A feeling crept up inside of me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The excitement of the unknown raged and flipped.

Outside, the reflections of the surrounding buildings danced upon the limo. I felt too upper class riding it in and completely out of my zone. As I walked closer, Charlie greeted me with a head nod and opened the back door. Before I climbed in, I thanked him, and took a deep breath, hoping my heart wouldn't burst from my chest. The thought of seeing Mr. Felton sitting inside the limo made me nervous. How would he act now that I'd agreed to join his team? Treat me like a whore? Demand me to obey him? I didn't know, but I would soon find out.

Once inside the limo, I expected to see green eyes and messy hair eagerly awaiting me, but my arrival was greeted with evil looks from two women.

Well damn, was my last thought before the limo door closed and we sped off.

"Ms. Downs, my name is Paisley, and this is Jessica, but she likes to be called Jesse. We have been assigned to mentor you over the next few weeks."

Intimidation and doubt slowly replaced my excitement. Paisley looked like a goddess with naturally tanned skin, golden brown hair, and a face only the daughter of Zeus could have. Jesse had blonde hair, a petite nose, light skin, and bright red lips. If I believed in the supernatural, I might have assumed she was a vampire. These two women couldn't be more opposite from one another, and they rivaled in beauty.

"As she said, we will be mentoring you for the next few weeks." Jesse's tone was nothing but disinterest coated in boredom. She sighed after she spoke, and then mumbled something, which I only assumed to be bitchy by the way her head bobbed, to Paisley. I overheard things like: she's not wearing makeup, just another one of Finn's toys, not going to cut it.

I cleared my throat and then spoke. "Excuse me, I'm right here, and can hear you."

Jesse crossed her arms and legs and pushed her body further into the soft leather seats. I wished they would suck her in.

"I apologize, Ms. Downs. Jessica can sometimes forget her manners."

Paisley sent her an incredulous look, but Jesse returned it with an open eye roll and a moan. She treated me like a second-class citizen, not good enough to be in the same car with her.

Paisley smiled at me, not a big warm smile, but a courteous one.

"So where were we? Oh yes. Mentoring. If you are to be an Elite, you must act as an Elite, which requires proper etiquette training. Think of it as orientation if you will."

"Okay," I muttered.

"Just because Finn wants you as one of his, doesn't mean you are guaranteed a place in the ranks. You will be tested, and there are two inevitable outcomes: either you pass or fail. Only you will decide," Paisley said.

Her tone never rose. She was all business while Jesse was all bitchiness.

"Tell her about the last girl, Pais. Tell her how she got fired," Jesse said.

"No. I will not, Jessica."

Paisley turned her body toward me.

"Your training began the very moment you were handed that garment bag. I can see you follow instructions. Well done," Paisley said.

Then a thought crossed my mind. Charlie had warned me as he walked down the stairs. He said Mr. Felton had a tight schedule. Of course, if I had gotten the hint, I would have known that he wasn't in the limo waiting for me. I know how to follow instructions, but am practically blind when it comes to subtle clues.

Paisley's words echoed in my mind, training and tested. What kind of tests could they give a virgin? I chuckled to myself as I imagined a ridiculous line at a carnival, but for sexual favors. Step right up, Ladies and Gentlemen, the world's biggest virgin will learn how to perform blow jobs. I groaned.

Either way, I had to take this seriously because Paisley's words, although rough around the edges, were true. I would either join the ranks or wait until my savings completely depleted. Then I would be forced to go back to Texas. The fact was I would do anything to avoid that. Well almost anything.

The car skidded to a halt, and Charlie opened the door with a blank expression on his face. Paisley and Jesse exited, and I followed their lead. Long, slim legs led the way, and wow, they were like gazelles.

The two goddesses led me into the building. I couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Felton sat in his cozy glass windowed office drinking whiskey with another prospective employee naked in front of his desk. Why did I even given a damn?

As I followed them to the elevator, without saying a word, I tried to memorize every square inch of the fifteen-story building because yesterday was a blur. With a ding, we were inside. There were no friendly conversations exchanged. Instead, we listened to the elevator version of My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion. Paisley's cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her handbag and answered.

"Paisley speaking."

So formal, I thought.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. The black pants. Yes, she is wearing them. No, no makeup. To be expected? I suppose. I agree. That's where we are heading now, yes, to look it over. I understand. Ciao."

She pressed end on her phone, and the elevator door opened. I knew the conversation was about me.

The corner office had glass walls exactly like Mr. Felton's, but inside there were different sized plants, a couch, an oak carved desk, and chairs that were arranged to maximize the square footage. I knew it was a woman's space just by the decor.

Paisley placed her handbag on the desk, and then motioned for me to take a seat.

Jesse flicked off her stilettos and propped both feet on the couch, and shooed me away.

"Now, before we get started on your training, there are a few things we need to discuss."

She opened the drawer and pulled out a file folder with my name scribbled across the top. Inside of the folder, a stack of papers, maybe two inches thick, lay neatly clipped together. Paisley removed them from the folder and scooted them my way. I moved my chair closer to the edge of her desk to take a better look.

"What is all of this?" I flipped through the paragraphs of legal jargon.

"This is your NDA and contract of employment," Paisley said.

Jesse groaned.

"Before we teach you anything, you must sign a nondisclosure agreement and read over the contract. Of course, we can provide a lawyer, but the fees will be deducted from your first stipend. If you do not pass training, you will still be responsible for all costs incurred during your legal consultation."

"Okay."

"It does seem like a lot, but everything included is necessary to protect Mr. Felton."

"Protect?"

"All of Finn's employees must sign and abide by the contract."

I thumbed through pages of legal words that jumbled together on the paper. The gist included my body being treated as property, strict rules, stricter regulations, and more blah blah fucking blah.

"So basically, you all own me if I pass training? Doesn't all of this seem, I dunno, a bit overboard?"

"To you, maybe, but we find these clauses are necessary to protect you, our clients, and the corporation. The NDA is to ensure the privacy of all parties and protection of any trade secrets that you may learn while being employed. Our contract is nothing short of enlisting for the U.S. Military. It might help if you think about it that way."

I continued to thumb through the pages.

"What about clause 7B-2, client may be released from duties as deemed necessary by management. But then in 6D-4, it states, the contract stands indefinitely until released. Seems to me as if there is hardly any job security."

"Many of our employees have worked here steadily for the past five years. As long as you—"

"What is the turnover rate?"

"No one has ever quit."

"Then how—"

"Mr. Felton has personally fired each employee that didn't cut it," Jesse butted in.

I had almost forgot she was behind me on the couch.

"Are you currently on the pill or shot?" Paisley asked.

"No. I… I don't have sex."

"I'll set up an appointment with the gynecologist next week," she said.

I hated the gynecologist. Just the thought of having someone feel around with cold metal and fingers made me cringe.

I continued to read through articles and amendments until I went cross-eyed. At the end of the five-hundred-something pages, there were two documents with a small X beside a line.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

What if I got old and ugly? What if I wanted to get married or have children? What if I fell in love?

Love, as stated in the contract, between clients and/or other employees is strictly prohibited and will result in immediate termination.

My heart dropped. Love, had yet to find me, and to be honest, Cupid had not shot his arrows in my direction for quite some time. Love was nonexistent, but do I want love? What other emotion is as powerful as that one? Love only happened in fairy tales.

With the final thought, I grabbed the pen and scribbled my Jane Hancock across the line.

"Are you sure you don't want legal advice?" Paisley asked, a little concerned.

I hesitated before signing the last page, and then went for it.

"You only live once, right?" I said.

And that's when Paisley's mouth dropped open.

"No one has ever denied legal advice," she said.

I threw my chips on the table and played the hand that Lady Luck dealt.

Please don't be a bitch, I thought.

Seven

"If you say so." Paisley signed her name below mine and Jesse notarized the document, grudgingly.

"We are all set, I suppose," Paisley said before picking up the phone on her desk and dialing a four-digit extension.

"It's done. I'll send her up," she said, and then hung up the phone.

Jesse leaned on the corner of the desk and stared at me, daring me to say something. But I didn't, and neither did she. I wasn't sure why she hated me so much, but I hoped she would get over it. I hated when people disliked me, especially for no reason.

"Jennifer, Mr. Felton would like to see you in his office," Paisley said.

The sound of his name conjured up a strange excitement.

"Do you remember where his office is?"

"Umm… no."

"Jesse, can you bring her? I have to fill out some additional paperwork before we leave for our ten o'clock appointment."

Jesse stood, but didn't wait for me. I was just supposed to follow. As I trailed behind her, I noticed how much prettier she was than me. Her aura, although bitchy, held a certain kind of confidence that probably drove men crazy. What was my aura?

She pushed the up arrow and we waited for the elevator to arrive. Once it opened, we stepped inside, and she pressed the fifteenth floor. As we moved upward, she stopped the elevator in mid-flight and then turned on me. Beauty and fury stared at me, waiting for me to make my move, but I stood my ground and returned the most uninterested look I could manage. I learned from the best after all.

"Listen to me. You think you are so pretty and sweet and innocent, but I know better. I can see straight through your little act. You better be on your toes because I already don't like you. And I will do everything I can to make sure you don't make it out of training. So get ready, little virgin girl. Get ready for the time of your fucking life." Her voice was full of vengeance and hate.

I reached over and pressed the button to continue upward.

"Challenge accepted," I said to her through gritted teeth.

Although Jesse towered over me like a giant, I wasn't concerned. What would she do, punch me? Fight me? I fought boys all my life. I wasn't the type of girl that got manicures on Saturdays or dyed my hair. She couldn't handle this, and no matter what she had to say, or what she tried to do, sabotaging my career wouldn't work.

As the elevator opened, she tried to block me from exiting. I gave her my best football player shoulder as I walked passed her, and I heard her scoff at my actions. Without looking back, I knew that I had successfully made a permanent enemy. Fantastic, just what I needed.

Everything looked familiar. The girl at the circular desk, the windows, and the door at the end of the hall with Mr. Felton's name etched across.

I straightened my shirt and pants before I knocked on the door. He instructed me to enter. I inhaled and turned the knob. Mr. Felton sat at his desk, closed the laptop, and then intertwined his fingers together before giving me that boyish grin that made my heart palpitate.

"Ms. Downs." My name sounded velvety coming from his lips.

"Mr. Felton," I retorted.

"I knew you'd make the right choice."

He guided me closer toward the view of the city and I gasped. The casinos, fake world attractions, and buildings filled the streets. The view was even better than the last time I caught a glimpse. Basically, he had front row seats to Sin City.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

He turned his head and stared at me. Heat coursed through my veins and touched my cheeks.

I tried to focus on the city scene, and the feelings I experienced. I wanted to memorize every single detail of the Strip as it lay below my feet.

"Tell me about you."

I scoffed and shook my head.

He grabbed my wrists, and walked me backward until my ass hit the wall.

"I'm not joking. Now tell me." That accent and messy hair combined with bright green eyes made him deliciously dickish in every sense.

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"Let's start here."

He grabbed both my wrists in one hand and undid the buttons of the black shirt he made me wear, controlling each little button. The fabric got in the way of his view, so he moved it aside taking in every inch of my breasts spilling over the top of the lacy bra.

"Start with your past relationships."

The more I looked at him, the more I asked myself what I was doing. I could have left his office, but I didn't. It seemed it was too late to go back on my contract, too late to run away and never come to this building again. Although I was only into the business a few inches deep, every bit of me was cemented in, locked in legally, and as sick as it was, I liked it.

"I dated a guy for a year or so, and we were pretty serious. I thought maybe we would get married one day, but he wanted to have sex, and I wanted to wait until I was married."

Mr. Felton unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them a few inches, allowing enough room for his hands to slip inside my panties. I wiggled my wrists to stop him but he pinned both of my arms above my head.

"Don't, and continue," he whispered.

"His name was Greg. It was puppy love. He did nice things for me constantly, but then one day it all stopped. Like the fresh flowers had died, and I knew it was over."

While I spoke, his hand inched down my panties. I couldn't move, I couldn't run, and I didn't want to.

"Oh, you're wet. Do you like this, Ms. Downs? Did he ever touch your clit? Like this? "

And he pushed harder on my clit and I sunk into it. "You didn't fucking answer me."

His fingers parted me, and he began to add pressure and swirl in motions that I had never experienced before. Then backed away.

I struggled and fought to speak. "No. He never touched me. Anywhere. I wouldn't let him." My voice was low and wavering.

"Do you feel when I add pressure here between the folds of your labia," he said, and then barely dipped the end of a finger around the outside of my opening. My knees went weak.

"Yes." I struggled to speak. "It feels… really… good."

No one had ever explored my body in such a way, but oh god, I wanted him too. I wanted him to keep going. Every touch, every movement was turning me into clay. Something that he could mold and make into whatever he wanted.

"My little virgin is so wet. I fucking love it. And so do you."

The movements of his hands were bringing me to a place I had never been. My muscles began to tighten, my breathing picked up, and I inhaled deeply. Mr. Felton shook his head and pulled his hand from my panties, leaving my body wanting, begging for more.

He leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Did he ever make you come?"

I shook my head.

"Have you ever had an orgasm?"

I shook my head again.

"Today is your lucky day, isn't it?"

His hot breaths danced up and down my neck and around my ears. His hand slowly inched themselves back in my panties. The rhythmic motions brought me closer to the edge, and I pushed into him, pulling him closer, wanting to tip over and pour out, to experience an orgasm because I could feel the overcoming build taking over every part of me. I moaned.

"Why did you end it?"

I panted and bit my lip with satisfaction. With each word, I had to forcefully breathlessly focus on answering his question.

"I found out. He was cheating on me. With a family friend. He got the girl pregnant."

"Did it anger you?"

I was so close. I think? I could feel it. And I whimpered and thought I would lose my balance. He removed his hand from my panties, yet a-fucking-gain.

"Not yet. You'll come when I let you."

Oh fuck. I wanted to bitch slap that smirk from his beautiful face, grab his hair, and yank it hard.

"Now tell me. Did it anger you?"

"Not as much as you are right now."

"Wrong answer."

He crossed his arms and I released a sigh of desperation, and want, and longing. I needed to feel it. I drank the horny potion, and I needed to get it out. It was making me crazy and unfocused. I had never been so turned on in my life and either he would finish the job, or I would learn how.

"What is your type?"

He laced his fingers through my hair and lightly tugged, forcing me look into his deep green eyes.

"I asked you about your type."

"I don't fucking know, okay?" Frustration didn't fully describe my feelings. He jerked my pants down along with my panties and spread my legs wide as he slammed my ass against the cold wall. Like they were magnetized, his hands found their place on my clit again. Slow, mesmerizing movements, and I promised to tell him anything he wanted to know, but short answers because full conversation was out of the question.

"Tall and handsome."

He murmured, "So what you're say is you want to fuck me, little virgin?"

"Fuck you." I panted. And he released his hand from my wrists, and stuck his finger in my mouth, and I sucked and licked it.

What the hell was I doing?

He moaned with satisfaction as he satisfied me. At that moment, I would have let him slam me against his wooden desk and fuck me senseless. He knew it and so did my body. But I couldn't be wham-bam-thank you-fucked. My virginity was for sale. We both knew that. It was clearly spelled out in the legal document I signed.

"That look on your face. I know what it means. I want to hear you yell it when you're coming. Fucking tell me," he said between soft lips as he ran his fingers through my hair.

My hips naturally moved with the rhythm of his hand, and I sank deeper into my emotions, allowing the movement and pressure to consume every bit of me. It took me in and pushed me out until I couldn't control myself any longer. And then it happened.

"Oh. Fuck. I think. I'm. Coming," I whispered.

The sweet flood of release overtook me physically as every muscle tightened and clenched below. He kept the movement slow and soft until I had completely finished coming. My legs wobbled, and I thought I would fall, but he steadied me as I lost myself in the orgasmic wave. My heart pounded, trying to beat itself from my chest, and I thought I would crumble into nothingness and become dust in the wind. I was useless.

Oh my fucking… god. What had I been missing all of my life?

He fidgeted with his dark blue tie and removed the space between us. I didn't know what to do or say. Soap and summer breeze filled my nose, and I could feel his erection pressing on my leg.

I looked into his eyes. Without saying a word, he searched and called me like his personal sex kitten. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, and he placed one finger over my lips and whispered in my ear.

"Don't say I never fucking gave you anything. Now get out."

"You are such an asshole."

"That's Mr. Asshole to you."

I pulled up my big-girl-who-just-had-an-orgasm-in-her-boss's-office panties and swooshed my messy curls to the side as I buttoned my pants. The room was suffocating and I couldn't breathe.

When I made it to the elevator all I could do was call him an asshole repeatedly. Fucking asshole, asshole, asshole!

On the fifth floor, Jesse stepped into the elevator, and when the door shut, she laughed. Not a genuine one, but rather an evil bitch laugh. The type of laugh that only she could conjure from the pits of hell.

"What?" I asked smugly.

"You're wearing a J.B.F face."

"J.B.F?"

"Seriously? Just been fucked, dumbass, and you smell like sex."

I crossed my legs and could feel the wetness in my panties.

When the glass elevator doors opened, all I wanted to do was burst through the lobby and never look back. But wait, people actually smelled like sex? And she could smell it? Either way, I was convinced that everyone in that building were nothing more than giant assholes.

Anger coated me as realization set in. I had given that womanizing dickhead the pleasure of giving me my first orgasm.

Damn it!

I should have slapped that asshole's pretty face when I had the chance.

Eight

Warm air hit my face. All I wanted to do was get rid of the electric current that ran through my bones. Forget about the ache between my legs and jumbled thoughts in my mind. I've never been looked at the way Mr. Felton looked at me. Or touched, or spoken to in a manner that made me feel… what? Sexy? Dirty?

Now get out. The words were short and simple, but held so much within them. The vengeance in his voice, the hate in his eyes, made me want to punch him in the throat. But his throat led up to his chiseled jaw and pouty lips, and those eyes and cheekbones. Oh fuck, those eyes.

Mr. Felton seemed so proper in his pressed black suit and blue tie with his hands in my panties.

But would I do it again? In a fucking heartbeat.

I went to the hotel and tried to forget the whole situation although I knew that was impossible. I watched stupid girl movies and ordered from room service! Hello Friday night!

All night long, my mind spun until eventually the time blurred. Hours and seconds melted into one long-lived experience, one that I hoped I didn't look back at in ten years and regret.

What had happened? I had agreed to be a call girl. Agreed to sell my virginity. Mr. Felton placed his hands down my pants. I had smelled like sex. Jesse hated me. I watched stupid girl movies that didn't make me feel any better about myself. All facts.

The soft hotel sheets covered my almost-naked body. I stretched and threw the covers off and opened the curtains in the room.

"Well hello, Lady Luck. Don't be a bitch today," I whispered to the busy city streets. The unknown thrilled me and scared the crap out of me; a wicked mix of conflicting emotions whirled within.

Every move I made always required detailed planning, calculations of possible outcomes, with the worst scenario having its own backup plan. I never imagined becoming a call girl, never in my sexiest dreams.

Before I completely lost track of my emotions, I decided to call Abbie. I didn't care what time it was there, I needed to talk to her, confide in her, and tell someone what I was up to just in case something bad happened. I watched way too much CSI.

After I clicked her name from my favorites, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to answer.

Nothing.

As soon as I hung up, I had a call.

"Mornin'." I tried to put as much cheeriness in my voice as I could muster.

"This better be important. You know how much I hate mornings." And boy did I. She hated them like I hated the taste of coconut, or being alone, or even how I hated getting my feet wet when it rained. If the sun never shined again in the morning, I think Abbie would have been perfectly okay with that. She was such a grump before 10:00 a.m.

"I love how you hate mornings. Anyway. I'm sorry, Ab. I. I needed to talk to you."

When she responded, her voice was raspy and full of annoyance, but then softened.

"You took the job, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Complete and utter silence filled the other line. I actually thought I heard the phone drop.

"Wait, what? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"You said to keep my options open."

"I didn't mean that, Jennifer."

I somewhat expected this reaction from her. I really did and I needed it. I needed to know that someone cared. That someone could pull me from the darkness if I ever got lost.

"Abbie."

"Jennifer Antoinette."

Usually, I wanted people to call me Jennifer Ann, but no, everyone had to say the full name. What the hell was my mother thinking?

"You've got to be shitting me. You're a virgin. Virgins can't be call girls unless…" She trailed off and stopped talking mid-sentence. We both knew there were plenty of sexual acts a person could perform without compromising their virginity.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You're smart. Pretty. You graduated in the top of your class at the University of Houston. You were always the one to make the best decisions. And you don't really need the money. I just… I don't know what to say."

"I'm getting paid thirty thousand."

"That's it?"

"A month."

Silence, once again.

"…and my boss' office has the best view of the city."

"Did you have sex with him?"

"No. No. It isn't like that."

"Are you lying? Something is up I can tell by your tone change."

That's the only thing that sucked about Abbie. She knew me. She knew me so well that she could tell if I was lying even with hundreds of miles between us. Even if I wasn't telling the whole truth, she knew. Abbie could read me like an open book.

"Are you sure you didn't have sex with him?"

The question made me flush.

"What? No!"

"Would you?"

"No! I would never do that, Ab. I can't. He's my boss and… I've agreed to sell my virginity."

"You are a dirty, little slut."

Yesterday I would have let him throw me across the floor and make me his rug. He could have slammed me against the window and fucked me crazy in front of the city. I would have let him. I was so turned on, he could have done whatever he wanted with me. But the rules stated: immediate termination if one fell in love with another employee or client. It never specifically stated anything about having sex with another employee. But is sex ever really just sex? The stupid girl movies didn't think so. As long as I was an Elite, we were both equally unavailable because he was my fucking boss.

Critical thinking skills kicked into overdrive, and I had to stop before I drove myself off the crazy cliff. It was all a bit complicated.

More silence passed, and Abbie spoke up. "I'm just messing with you. Chill out."

We laughed about the rumors floating around Mid-County and Abbie's last semester of school.

"Hey, after graduation, you should move up here. I should have a place of my own by then."

I smiled at the thought of her being here. If Vegas could suck the wild out of me in less than a week, when Abbie arrived, I would completely lose all straight-edged inhibitions.

Between the two of us, she was the beauty, and I was the brain. Mischief was her middle name, or should have been. Abbie would do anything to get a rise out of people or to steal the spotlight. Trouble to her was like a flame to a moth. Being drawn to that type of behavior, while being surrounded by Sin City, was a slush pile of madness waiting to happen.

"Vegas couldn't handle me," she finally said, half-jokingly.

But could she handle Vegas?

"If you're still there after I graduate, I'll move. I miss you."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

A promise from Abigail Green was as good as gold. She only had four months until she graduated. I knew I would still be here at that time. But before I could say another word, three knocks pounded on my door.

Knock-knock-pause-knock.

"Hey, Ab. That's a deal. Four months and you'll be here."

I looked through the peephole, and there stood Mr. Hands-in-my-pants.

"Shit, it's my boss," I lowered my voice.

"Your bossy boyfriend?"

"You have no idea how bossy he is, and he isn't my boyfriend. Actually he's a huge asshole."

"Whatever you say. Take care. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's saying a lot, considering."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Knock. Knock. Pause. Knock.

"Nothing. Gotta go. Love you."

"Love you too, sis."

I quickly slipped on my bra and panties and rushed around looking for my clothes.

"Open the fucking door."

Damn. Most of my clothes were packed in the dirty laundry bag, and I didn't have time to search through my closet. I heard another knock, knock, and on the pause I swung open the door before Mr. Felton's hand could give the third.

Nine

"One sec. I need to get dressed."

I tried to close the door, but he moved his hand in the way and let himself in.

"I'll wait inside."

He studied every part of my body, stopping at my breasts, then trailing down my flat stomach before meeting my eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"You know what they say about women who wear black lingerie?" He leaned on the doorframe.

"Not exactly."

"It means they want someone to see."

"To be fair, I wanted to get dressed. But you insisted."

"That's what they all say."

"So why are you here?"

"Today you leave this coffin of a room. You're moving into my house."

"Excuse me? What if I don't want to?"

"Then you shouldn't have signed the contract without legal advice, Ms. Downs."

He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for me to get dressed and pack my bags. I double—and triple—checked to make sure nothing was left behind. But no matter, the forgetting-something feeling always persisted. I hummed Fly Me To The Moon in the bathroom while I brushed my teeth and then stopped, and thought I heard Mr. Felton humming it as well. I had found myself humming a lot since yesterday. I peeked my head from the bathroom door.

"Oh, you know that one? You're telling me you aren't completely dead inside, and you actually listen to music?" I said with a mouth full of toothpaste foam.

"No one is that dead inside."

"My favorite part is the beginning."

As I slipped on a summer dress and packed my toothbrush away, Mr. Felton stood.

"You're going to be bad for business, you know?"

I swallowed hard, and he grabbed my two bags.

"….Because you make me wait while you lollygag around. Ready?"

I nodded, and we left the room and made our way to the elevator.

"I can keep a better watch on you in the house. Make sure you don't do anything ridiculous. You seem to be a hazard."

"At least I'm not toxic," I whispered and looked into the hotel mirrors watching every movement he made. I thought I saw a smile creep across his face.

I dropped the room keys in the little box and checked out of the hotel. The woman handed me a receipt, winked at Mr. Felton, and then smiled. He returned the gesture. Pure sex appeal on legs and a freak behind closed doors, just my virgin luck.

Outside, the sight of the black beauty parked in front made me gasp. I ran my hands over the curves of the hood and fully took in the Aston Martin Vanquish. V12. Zero to sixty in 4.1 seconds. Zero to one hundred in ten. The way I lusted over cars, and speed and fresh leather wasn't normal. I should have become a mechanic.

"I think I've fallen in love."

Mr. Felton watched me and laughed.

"Most women say that to me."

"I was talking about the car?"

"This? This is my baby, and I am quite keen on her."

He smoothed his hand over the body of the car. "This is my V."

He pulled the keys from his pockets and clicked the button. Her car horn lightly honked twice, and then he placed my bags in the trunk.

"Come on, baby. I'm going to take you on the ride of your life."

I didn't know if he was talking to me, or the car, and it didn't matter. Mr. Felton didn't have to tell me twice. I slid onto the mocha-colored seat and buckled myself in. The smells of Mr. Felton and the soft, smooth leather with double stitching filled the car.

Mr. Felton threw the car into first, and the tires squealed from the parking lot. Two women stood outside the hotel and watched us with their mouths wide open.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked.

While weaving in and out of traffic and taking every back street available, he glanced at me. I couldn't tell him that I was thinking about our last time together and how I apparently had J.B.F hair and smelled like sex.

"Nothing."

The car accelerated, and a gravitational force pushed me against the seat. We were pulling some G's down the freeway, and then immediately exiting. His V vroomed. She wanted to go, and the truth was I wanted to, as well.

"Can I drive?" My leg shook in anticipation.

"I never let a woman drive my car. Especially those who can't drive stick."

"I know how to drive stick, but it's not like you would know that."

The grin on his face grew in size.

"I actually do want to know."

My cheeks burned, and I could feel my body temperature rise, so I tried to pay attention to the fading city and calm down. He took an off ramp and sped down the open road surrounded by desert. V hummed and purred the whole way coaxing me calm.

"Sometimes when I'm stressed or need to get away from business, V and I will take a ride. She seems to be the only woman who can fully satisfy me with no fucking lip."

"Maybe if you didn't treat women like shit, you wouldn't get lip from them."

He cocked his head toward me and his jade eyes sparkled.

"It seems the only disrespectful woman I know—with a dirty mouth and balls bigger than mine—is you."

"If your balls are as big as your ego, then I would expect mine to be gigantic."

Mr. Felton slammed on the brakes, and V veered off the road. Dust flitted behind us like a smoke trail from a burning engine.

He grabbed the bottom of my chin and forcefully made me look at him.

"A shame that pretty mouth is so fucking filthy. It's a real shame. But that's why I am going to let you drive her. I want you to see how a real woman should act under my hold."

My jaw dropped, and he opened his door. I ran around to the other side with way too much excitement in my bounce. I could mark driving an Aston from my bucket list. Before I slipped in, Mr. Felton closed in on me against the car.

"Just know, V is loyal, and madly in love with me. Don't be a bitch towards her."

When I was behind the wheel, V and I connected. She purred and begged for me to drive her wild. After buckling, I looked at Mr. Felton, who looked out at the wisps of clouds above. He gave me a head nod and a hurry up gesture with his hand.

With a kick of the clutch and snap to first gear, I made a U-turn and raced down the road. Power and pavement called my name, and I gunned it.

"Faster," Mr. Felton whispered.

Barely tapping the gas pedal caused us to fly down the road.

"See how she responds?"

"Yes."

"You and V are no different. Full of fierceness and beauty."

I watched the road carefully and tried to understand the direction of the conversation.

"You both must listen to me and respond when I give a direction."

I could feel him staring at me, but I kept my eyes on the road.

"If I tell her to do something, she does it without a fucking peep."

I pushed harder on the gas, ninety felt like nothing.

"If I tell her to stop, she asks me when."

Winding curves and Desert Mountains filled the background.

"And I give her what she needs to do her job, and be good at it. I tune her up. I make her ready to perform at full capacity."

The throttle hit one hundred miles per hour.

"She can't do anything without me. I drive her. I control her. She is mine. And so are you."

And then the bright red and blue lights flashed in the rearview.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

I couldn't concentrate.

Adrenaline shot through my body as I pulled the Aston onto the rocky gravel on the side of the road. Before I could grab my wallet from my clutch, the police officer tapped on the window. A man with dark black hair and a handlebar mustache leaned over to get a closer look.

"Yes, officer?"

"I've been following you for a few minutes. Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Umm…" I thought playing stupid girl would pay off. It didn't. Not with Mr. Asshole sitting beside me.

"What's the issue, Officer Black?"

"At one point, I clocked you at one hundred miles per hour. Do you know the speed limit?"

"I'm not sure. I'm actually not from here."

Mr. Felton leaned over the console. His head was close to mine.

"Felton."

"This is Jennifer Downs. She's actually new to the area, and I thought I would let her drive V."

The officer stood unamused, but there was a flicker of something in his eye: recognition.

"I should bring you both to jail for driving so fast. It's reckless," Officer Black said.

"Reckless is your middle name, isn't it?" Mr. Felton whispered in my ear, and I could feel his lips lightly touch the edge of my neck. My breathing accelerated and my chest rose and fell with each breath.

"I've warned you several times, Finnley. Next time, I will bring you to the station. Being reckless, playing with young women, it isn't healthy."

Officer Black lifted an eyebrow and leaned on the car.

"Exactly why I don't let women drive my cars. They can't seem to control themselves. Won't happen again, officer."

Unspoken words were exchanged between Mr. Felton and the cop, and then he left. Just like that. I should have at least gotten a warning, but received nothing. Mr. Felton had the power to persuade the law. In Texas, I would have been handed a ticket quicker than I could roll down the window.

"How long have you been dancing?"

"I never said I danced."

"Your legs did."

Amazed how unfazed he was at the potential ticket, I stared into his face.

"My adrenaline is pumping so fast right now. I can't even think."

He grabbed my wrist. My heart beat a million miles per minute.

"Wow. Did the flashing lights turn you on?" He laughed at my expense.

It was being pulled over combined with your deadly sex appeal, I wanted to say, but didn't.

"Always the asshat, aren't you?"

"Only when you are the ass, Ms. Downs."

Leaning forward in his seat, he programmed the GPS to bring us home.

I followed the route, and could see faint city lights in the distance. Another mile and I would be home, well, his home.

A tall cement fence lined the side of the road, and I knew we were almost there. Following what the GPS said, I turned into to a gate-blocked driveway.

"The code is 0619. Press enter, and the gate will close behind you."

Tall golden gates slowly opened and closed whenever I drove through. In the distance sat a fortress of a house. It was pure architectural genius with large windows lining the outside instead of walls. There was more glass than siding. I glanced inside as we passed, and could see two women inside leaning over the kitchen bar. Okay, house was an understatement, but somehow I expected nothing less than a fortress funded by sex.

"Welcome to my private compound. Felton Estates."

I rubbed my hands over the steering wheel before I removed the keys from the ignition and handed them to Mr. Felton.

"Told you V would give you the ride of your life. She's never disappointed."

As I opened the door, he pulled me back into the car. I turned my body toward him.

"Before you go in, you must know you moving here is simply protocol."

"Is that what yesterday was as well? Protocol?"

"Since you understand. Shall we?"

My first orgasm was fucking protocol.

With a beat, he opened his door, grabbed my bags from the trunk and handed them over. The sparkle in his eyes vanished; it was every woman for herself because he had turned all business.

"Since I was five."

"Excuse me?"

"I've been dancing since I was five. Trained in jazz and ballet and danced my way through college."

He swallowed, and I caught the hint of a smile form on his face, but it never manifested.

White marble steps led up to the double wooden doors. Inside stood Paisley, Jesse, and another girl whom I hadn't met yet.

"Everyone, please welcome Ms. Jennifer Downs to the house. She is new to the business, and I hope that each of you welcome her as if she were a long-lost friend."

Jesse scoffed, and Paisley elbowed her. Mr. Felton stared at Jesse until she looked away. The other girl, pretty with dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes, had freckles sprinkled across her face like stars in the night sky. There was no pattern to her prettiness. She had a natural quality about her. Not innocent but not fake, I couldn't explain it. Her hair flowed midway down her back, and she wore it in a tucked-in side swoop. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. A kindred spirit in a room full of tigers, I supposed.

"Lori, won't you show Jennifer to her room?" Paisley asked.

She didn't complain, or give dirty looks, or act upset by my presence. Instead, she introduced herself formally and grabbed a suitcase from my hand, and we walked up the stairs. I couldn't help but stare up at the high ceilings or memorize the various abstract paintings on the wall.

The upper floor had several doors lined against the wall, and I wondered how many women lived here at one time.

"Don't worry. You'll get used to being here. It doesn't take long."

Her words and voice were reassuring, soft, and motherly, although she couldn't have been much older than me.

"How many women live here?"

"Right now there are five of us here, six including you. The rest of the girls have their own places but drop in occasionally. Here we are."

The fourth door on the left would be mine.

Inside were beige walls, a sleigh bed, and a large window with a balcony. At least I had that.

"I'm right next door," she said as she pointed to the right, "if you need anything."

I smiled.

"I'm happy you're here, Jennifer. It seems everyone else is sewn into cliques. Plus it's nice to no longer be the new girl."

She gave a sincere smile and shut the door.

I unpacked my clothes and laid them in the dresser and then opened the balcony door and stepped out. The backyard had a hot tub and a pool, and a patio bar and pool house. I only imagined the kind of sex parties that happened down there. My mind went wild with naked people strutting around the pool, having sex with one another in the corner, and the moans. Oh gosh, the nasty moans. Sometimes my imagination even scared me.

Three knocks tapped on the door, and I barely cracked it. Mr. Felton leaned against the frame only enough for me to see his face.

"Yesterday was a mistake. I wanted to apologize."

"It's not like I enjoyed it anyway."

"Of course you didn't. I wouldn't expect a virgin to."

"Bastard," I whispered.

And then he walked away.

Ten

Mr. Felton and I didn't cross paths for weeks. The memories of getting naughty in his office were just that, memories. Mistake memories, if I were to term them correctly.

Training sessions, one after another, continued to bore me to death. I never knew there were so many forks and spoons, or that there were proper ways to eat spaghetti, sip wine, or cut steak. Sitting up straight and making sure to act like a lady were top on my scold list along with learning to speak only unless spoken to. No swearing, biting nails, or making ugly faces. Act interested in what the clients have to say. Men do not like women who act like barbarians, my coach said after I ate fried chicken.

Barbarians? She would die in Texas, where everything was bigger and the trivial things didn't matter. Where we walked around with barbecue sauce on our T-shirts because it was easier than changing, and being barefoot was natural. Texas, where the sun always shone, and where everyone worked hard until their dainty hands had calluses.

Coach demanded practice in four-inch high heels, taught me to laugh genuinely at stupid jokes, and flirt with my eyes. Twice a day, exercise was required, cardio in the morning and afternoon with weight lifting every other day. I essentially attended princess training. Where the hell was my prince?

The contract stated I would have a dedicated week of training, but I didn't expect mannerism school. I expected to watch porn, learn how to give hand jobs, blow jobs, and to pop my ass out when I walked. My views on being a call girl were steadily changing.

Lori laughed when I told her that. Her response was, "The Elite are classy individuals, Jennifer. Not whores that are picked up on the side of I-10. You have to make the men feel important. It's easy, really. Our clients act like gentlemen, and they do nice things to make a girl feel special. I have a great time with my Number One, you know, the man I'm most compatible with out of all the clients," Lori said.

I loved her. She was my saving grace. Although I kept my deep secrets to myself—more specifically the ones about Mr. Felton—she knew most things about me, and I her. She was no Abbie, but was the closest alternative, and would be returning from a business trip the next day. Until then, I would be alone in the lion's den.

After I strutted my way through hell, also known as Jennifer's mannerism training, I was given a manual with dating guidelines for The Elite.

Trust between client and employee must not be broken.

Never kiss on the lips because it's too intimate.

No blow jobs, hand jobs, or any sort of sexual acts on the first date.

All dating curfews must be followed.

And the list continued with more No's than Yes's. Of course, the fine print stated that if agreed upon beforehand or if the price was right, some of the No's could become Yes's. Each case would be reviewed and approved on an individual basis. Along with the guidelines, we were given specific to-do's such as checking our email each day. Most correspondence from Mr. Felton arrived that way. Nothing personal like a phone call, or a text, but rather a group message sent to every girl. Tomorrow would be the night that I met one of my matches.

The email clearly stated the instructions:

The limo will arrive at eight. All girls will be escorted to the corporate office's convention center, which will be setup for the client meet and greet.

Below was a reminder of how everyone was matched:

Both client and employee must take the match survey to see if they have fully compatible personalities.

The client must decide if he is attracted to his matches, and then a bid is placed.

The highest bidder is granted access to the employee. Documents will be signed between both parties, creating a legally binding contract.

Lori would be back in the morning.

She would help calm my nerves before the big night.

* * *

The group of women lined up against the walls. We were handed specific numbers and were instructed to place them over our left breast. Before sticking on my number, I peeked. Lucky number thirteen.

The doorway at the end of the hallway opened.

Mr. Felton.

He was dressed in a navy blue fitted suit jacket with straight-legged trousers. It had to have been designed by Brioni because only James Bond himself could pull off that look. I swallowed hard and kept my eyes to the ground. His voice, confident and smooth, traveled down the hallway with the directions. But we knew what to do; it was in every manual we were required to read.

Turn around and face the wall so blindfolds could be attached. Don't speak unless spoken to.

We were never to know all the clients that used Mr. Felton's services; it was a part of the nondisclosure agreement. So, everything was done behind closed doors and blindfolds.

The softness of the material rubbed across my cheeks and eyelashes. I squished my nose a little and peered down. I had moved the material a quarter of an inch, and if I tilted my head a tad, I could see. It was directly against the rules—rules that I had just broken.

Lori, and another one of the girls whose name I didn't know, grabbed my hands and all the women were escorted to the main room where a stage awaited us.

Curiosity killed me. I lifted my head and caught glimpses of men of different ages and sizes. They sat around circular tables eyeing their forms, which included headshots and the numbers of their personal matches. The men were like cattle herders, but they all wore expensive suits and ties, the most sophisticated of gentlemen, the upper class, the only ones that could afford The Elite.

Mr. Felton's voice reverberated through the room over a sound system.

"Thank you all for attending tonight. As you can see, each one of my girls has a number attached to her chest. Please circle the one that you most desire on your compatibility form. Once completed, please return your bid slip to me. Assignments will be given once the bidding has finished."

His voice, so British and sexy, articulated every word carefully. I memorized how this worked: the highest bidder would be assigned to a girl and then the meet-and-greet would commence. There would be no sex. The Elite believed that two people should have a common chemistry before any sort of sexual act took place. Tonight was nothing more than an Elite speed-dating event that could eventually end in sex, one day. It didn't seem so bad, considering.

I licked my red lips and pressed them together because I knew what was coming next.

"Virgins step forward, please."

I did as told and moved forward for everyone to see the one and only prized virgin. Murmuring increased, and I knew they were excited. Tilting my head, I could see the clients searching their forms for lucky number 13. Some had me, and others didn't.

"Thank you," Mr. Felton said, not speaking into the microphone. And I moved back into place.

I almost could hear my heart beating. And before I let my thoughts take over, the line traveled from the main room back into the long hallway. We were instructed to face the wall until Jesse removed our blindfolds.

"You did well," Mr. Felton whispered in my ear as he removed mine. So gentle, his touch and the way he brushed my hair from my shoulders. I tried not to smile and continued to look forward. As he walked by, I turned my head slightly and positioned my body to see in my peripheral if he undid anyone else's.

He didn't. I held a breath.

Lori grabbed my hand and squeezed, and we both shared a smile.

"Turn around," Jesse demanded.

Like robots, each woman turned in synchronicity and Jesse walked down the line passing out slips of paper with our man of the evening's number attached. As she handed me mine, she dropped it on the floor, gave an overly sarcastic oops and then kept walking.

Bitch.

I opened my paper and inside read, No. 26—Luketon Brand.

Lori opened hers and smiled. Every woman seemed happy with her selected match. Feeling out of the loop, I flashed my card towards Lori. She gave a smile and thumbs up, and then whispered he's fucking hot. I laughed and then immediately turned it off as Jesse glared at me.

The secretiveness of the process kept the integrity of The Elite call service. The men didn't want people to know who they were, and we weren't allowed to speak of it with another person. That would be easy for me. I had no one to tell.

Lining the walls of the convention area were tinted windows with numbers on the doors. Room twenty-six awaited me.

Mr. Felton spoke with Jesse by the exit. He pointed around the room and wrote a few scribbles in a small notebook. Jesse shook her head several times, and he nodded his. Mr. Felton continued to talk, almost scolding her, and then ended it with a smile. I kept my eyes on them while I went to meet my match. His jade greens caught sight of mine, and I didn't look away. He watched me until I couldn't take it anymore.

Outlined in gold and filled in with red, the number twenty-six held the man that wanted me: Luketon Brand. With a pinch of confidence, I opened the door and saw dark hair, blue eyes, and a set of plump lips. He stood as I entered and waited for me to sit, and then he followed.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Luketon Brand, but you can call me Luke."

"Jennifer Downs, nice to meet you."

He grabbed my hand and kissed the back ever so slightly.

"The pleasure is indeed mine."

Another man with a mesmerizing British accent. I thought I might lose it.

"So, Jennifer, won't you tell me about yourself?"

I traveled back to the office with Mr. Felton, and the result of the same question. I trashed the thoughts.

There are specific questions that a match can ask. I had the answers memorized as not to give away too much.

"I'm twenty-two, a Virgo, only child. I like fast cars, and hate taking walks on the beach."

He chuckled.

"Really? Duly noted. I have a confession to make."

He leaned in closer.

"I despise the beach as well."

I smiled and cocked my head.

"The sand is terrible, isn't it?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me before I could agree.

"Would you like to ditch this joint? I also despise formalities, and ties, and boring business meetings."

"So we can leave?"

"You're mine for the next few hours. We can do whatever our little hearts' desire, and I can guarantee that does not include long walks on the beach."

He stood and placed his hand on the small of my back and led me from the cramped space of box number twenty-six.

Luke found Jesse and Mr. Felton at the exit.

"We are leaving. Be back before curfew."

I heard a slight edge in his voice. The three of them turned and looked at me. Jesse rolled her eyes just to confirm that she still hated me. Mr. Felton lifted his eyebrows as if to ask if leaving was okay, and I nodded my head. Why the hell did he have to look at me with such intensity? Fucking Finnley Felton fucking with my feelings. Or maybe it was my emotions playing tricks on me?

Luke left Mr. Felton with a firm handshake and headed toward me with a smile on his face.

"Since that's settled, where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere but here."

He opened his arm for me to link onto. Before we left, I looked over my right shoulder and saw Mr. Felton watching me leave. I winked at him and turned around.

Take that, Mr. Fuckton.

"Is everything okay?" Luke asked.

"It is now."

Once outside, the cool air drifted across my legs, and I soaked in the fall breeze. He opened the door to the white Volvo, and I slipped in.

"I think I've got the perfect place for us to get to know one another a little better."

Within ten minutes, we were pulling into the entrance of a park. I lifted my eyebrows and turned to Luke.

"You'll love this place, I promise."

We walked toward a pond. Along the bank of the water were benches occupied with kissing couples. He led me one in front of the playground and then checked his watch.

"Just wait," he said.

A light breeze rustled the leaves behind us, and he leaned his shoulder into mine. The apple scent of his body mixed with the cool night air. Without warning, lights across the pond flashed and blinked. The trees branches glittered and danced like they were synchronized to music. Then the finale happened, and all the lights on the trees lit up at once and then slowly faded away to nothing.

"That was awesome! I've only seen things like that on television."

"Isn't it? I used to come here all the time when I was bored and contemplated life and love. If you play Chopin Nocturne Opus 9 as soon as it starts, it syncs nicely."

"Really? Classical music?"

"Yep. I love a good Chopin, Bach, or Beethoven. Occasionally Mozart. The music clears my mind whenever I'm working."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a painter."

He looked at me, and I looked back. Luke was pure man and pure sexiness. Weeks ago, I would've imagined this night to be full of sex, and sleaze, and everything nasty under the moon.

"Want to swing?"

I laughed, totally not what I expected.

"Um… sure."

I kicked off my heels, and Luke threw off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

"Last one there is a rotten egg?"

I ran to the playground barefoot. Forget the etiquette. Forget the training. I hadn't been on a swing set since I was a little girl, and though the gesture seemed childlike, it felt nice to let go and push my feet toward the sky. The swings screeched and urged us to stop, but we didn't.

"You aren't like most of Felton's girls, you know."

"Really?"

"Not at all."

"Luke, what's your story? Why did you choose to use The Elite? You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't need a call service."

He lifted an eyebrow, contemplated answering me, and then continued. I wasn't supposed to ask questions like that, but I felt comfortable with him.

"Too many women have used me. They try to be genuine, but aren't. With The Elite, I'm able to find someone who I am compatible with on many levels with no hidden agendas. No lies. It makes it easy. We are all on the same page. Now it's your turn. Why The Elite?

We continued to swing on the hard plastic until we wore ourselves out. Gripping the cold chains, I thought about my life, goals, ambitions, and dreams.

"It was an accident, sorta. Something that just happened. I moved to Vegas with aspirations of becoming an accountant at Simon and Fitch."

"Really? What happened?"

"I didn't get hired. Actually, I was turned away at my interview for being one minute late."

"Who would do such a thing? Don't stop dreaming. You've got greatness inside of you. I can tell."

"No, you can't." I dug my bare feet into the sand.

"I don't have to know someone to be able to judge their character. This might sound crazy, but… I feel like I've known you forever, like a long lost friend that I was reunited with again."

"Yeah, I get that sometimes. I think it's the southern hospitality thing that's engrained in me."

"I've got another confession to make."

Luke completely stopped swinging and glanced over at me.

"I'd like to go on another date with you. I promise no beaches."

"I'd like that."

"Great. I'll arrange it with Felton when we return. Which"—he glanced at his watch—"we should probably head back."

After dusting off my feet and placing on my heels, Luke's suit jacket found its way around my shoulders.

The ride back to the office happened in slow motion. Luke's laughter was contagious, deep and hearty. The genuine smile he gave me, and the way his crystal blue eyes lit up as he looked at me, made me feel pretty.

He led me to Mr. Felton's office, and our images reflected on the glass. With tousled hair and clammy faces, we looked as if we experienced a night of wild sex.

Mr. Felton sat at his desk, fully focused on paperwork. When we entered, he didn't acknowledge us whatsoever.

"Here she is. Ten o' clock."

No response. He continued to write vigorously as if he would tear straight through the paper.

Luke turned my body away from my cheery boss and gave me the sweetest kiss on the cheek, then whispered in my ear, "Until we meet again."

He left me in Mr. Felton's office, a place I hadn't visited in weeks. I glanced at the floor, and then focused my attention out the window and watched the city lights. I stood firmly with messy hair and Luke's jacket on my shoulders.

I waited for Mr. Bossman to give the command to sit. Because as an Elite, we must be instructed before we can act, speak when spoken to. Follow Rules.

Minutes passed before he finished writing. Once he did, Mr. Felton shut the black notebook, put down the pen, and looked at me.

"Have a good time, did you?" The edge in his voice returned.

"I did, thank you."

"I assume you are still a virgin after your rendezvous with Luketon?"

"Your assumption would be correct."

"Are you sure? You look a little disheveled and flustered."

"If he did stick it in, I didn't feel it. So I guess you'll have to trust me, won't you?"

With the word trust, he gave a devilish grin.

"Trust. I've learned to trust those who are trustworthy. Is that you, Ms. Downs? Are you trustworthy?"

"Yes."

"You would do anything that I told you to and tell me the truth if I asked?"

"Yes."

"There is no reason to lie to me if I ask you a question, is there?"

"No."

"So, Ms. Downs, did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yes. I did, sir."

He stalked toward me with as much fluidity as a cat.

"What did you call me?"

He gave a chuckle as if he were experiencing an inside joke with himself.

"It sounds quite nice coming from your lips. Continue to call me that instead of Mr. Felton until I say. Do you understand?"

"Yes… sir." I hesitated.

I did it to be sarcastic, and now, he wanted it as if it turned him on in some fucked up way.

"Did he kiss you?"

"No." He cleared his throat. "Sir," I added quickly.

"Did he touch you in inappropriate places?"

"No, sir."

"Did you want him to?"

I hesitated again. I hadn't thought of Luke touching me anywhere throughout the whole night. The date wasn't full of sexual tension and getting naked. It was innocent and fun.

"Answer me." Harshness blanketed his tone, and I flinched.

"No, sir. It wasn't like that."

Mr. Felton walked toward the window and peered out at the busy streets and groups of people pounding the pavement.

"You may sit, Jennifer."

I sat in the chair across from his desk, and waited for him to address me, but he seemed lost in the city.

"Luketon will ask for another date. And you may go if you would like. But you can refuse the offer if you'd rather not."

"I would like another date… sir."

"Great," he said flatly. "You can leave now."

I pushed the chair under the desk and laid the coat jacket on the back. Mr. Felton would see Luke before I did.

As I turned the doorknob to leave, he grabbed my hand. I turned, but refused to look into his eyes. His jaw clenched, and he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. No words exchanged between us, just a weird electricity as if our bodies were speaking in a language that neither one of us understood. He released my wrist, and flicked his head insinuating I should leave.

Once inside the elevator, I recouped my thoughts before pressing G.

What the hell just happened?

I honestly didn't know.

Eleven

Charlie dropped me off at home, where only a few exotic cars lined the driveway. I really needed to purchase a new car. It was on my list of things to do. Although the Honda's tire was fixed, I didn't feel like driving it. I had outgrown my college vehicle.

I thanked Charlie and headed toward the door. I punched the code into the keypad, but the door didn't open. Thinking I must have pushed an incorrect combination, I tried again. I had no key.

"Fuck," I whispered.

"Is that an offer?" Mr. Felton asked.

He must have driven around the backside of the house because I didn't hear him or V arrive but I wasn't paying attention.

"Umm."

He reached over my shoulder and punched in the code, but it didn't work for him either. Ha, I thought.

Without saying a word, we walked around the house, and he used his key for the back door. Inside was completely quiet. Everyone must have been out for the night or in bed. Only the virgin had a ten o'clock curfew.

Not paying attention, Mr. Felton walked into a lamp that sat in the corner of the sunroom. It shattered into a million pieces.

"Damn it," he said, whispering.

I barely made out his form by the faint moonlight that shone through the windows. He bent down and picked up all the little pieces of glass.

"Why in the world would anyone put that there?" I asked.

I wasn't familiar with every aspect in the house yet and had no clue where the switch would be. My luck, there would be a remote, just like every other damned light here. I pulled my phone from my clutch to give him some light. He laughed.

"Really?"

"What?"

"Your wallpaper, it's silly."

"What's silly about kittens? They're cute and make me smile."

"Right."

After unplugging the lamp from the wall, I bent down and helped.

"Careful. Picking up broken pieces can be dangerous," he said.

I whispered "Yes, sir" with sweet seduction in my voice. He stopped, but I continued picking up shards of glass with great care, but not carefully enough.

Pain pierced my finger and warm liquid dripped. Blood. The cut, although deep enough to hurt and bleed, was not deep enough to need stitches. Mr. Felton grabbed my hand and shined the kitty wallpaper on my finger. He immediately took his tie from around his neck and placed it on the wound.

"Come on. Before you bleed out on the wood floor," he said, leading me to the bathroom around the corner. Cold water washed the pain away.

Mr. Felton opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small first aid kit. With great care, he doctored the nick. Neosporin and a Band-Aid and the small cut was sealed to heal.

"And I'm the softie?" I sarcastically asked.

He slightly puckered his lips and gave a laugh.

"What?" I asked.

"I want you to tell me about your sexual fantasies."

My mouth dropped open. I closed it and swallowed.

"Okay," I said, trying not to stutter.

My nerves tugged and pulled inside of my stomach. I had never spoken about my fantasies openly before. Not even to Lori or Abbie, and they were my best friends. Mr. Felton leaned against the sink, waiting.

"I don't know."

"You're bound to have some sort of fantasy. If you could have anything in the world, sexually, what would it be?"

He lifted an eyebrow at me. I cleared my throat.

"I might like being tied."

"Kinky little virgin." Mr. Felton chuckled.

"Maybe spanked, if it wasn't too hard. I don't want to bleed or anything. Oh, I always imagined having sex in water would be interesting."

"I want to know your dark fantasies."

He straightened, and moved closer to me.

"The ones that you keep secret from everyone. The ones you've never spoken out loud."

My throat went dry. Thoughts of being spanked, bound, and blindfolded floated in my mind. I would be willing to try anything, be willing to explore the dark side at least once.

"I want to be taken," I whispered.

"Taken. Mmm. Tell me how."

A piece of hair fell in front of my face, and Mr. Felton tucked it behind my ear. His touch was so gentle and slight as if I was a glass doll and would break. I blushed, and my face went warm. The conversation wouldn't end until I told him what I wanted. I had learned that in his office.

"Trust, Jennifer. Rule number one."

"Trust isn't the issue. I just don't know what I want, and it's kind of embarrassing," I said. We spoke low enough that our words could have been lost in a cool autumn breeze.

"Don't be embarrassed if you don't know what you want. It's not allowed," he said, his voice smooth like honey. I nodded my head.

"I'd like my arms to be held down or tied where I can't move them. Or even a scenario with blindfolds, and ice. My best friend told me about one of her exes. How he would spank her, bind her, and speak dirty to her while he was fucking her hard. Then he teased her with ice around her nipples and up her legs. It sounded hot. Hot enough for me to want to do it."

"My little experimental virgin."

His touch trailed down the outside of my arms, leaving goose bumps along the way. The talk about my secret fantasies made me want it.

"I think your real training will start tonight."

His fingers ran through my hair and down my neck. My body responded instantaneously. Grabbing my hand, Mr. Felton led me down the hall to the basement. But before entering, he stopped.

"You're ready, yeah?"

"As I will ever be." I peered into his eyes, thinking I might get lost in them.

"Do you want to obey me?"

"Yes… sir."

The truth was, I did. I wanted to know what it felt like to lose control, and be controlled. And to experience more of the person that placed my first orgasm in his pocket, the man who gave me Vegas and let me believe it could all be mine.

"I like that." He grabbed the bottom of my chin between his fingers. "Continue to call me that."

"Yes, sir."

"Trust, Jennifer."

He opened the basement door, and we walked down a set of stairs. A bed with fluffy blankets, a chair, floggers of all different lengths and sizes, ropes, blindfolds, and other things filled the room. I had no clue what half of it was or did.

My insides melted. I wasn't afraid of the training room, but curious. I stopped and tried to take in every inch. Without turning around, Mr. Felton gave the first command.

"Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you."

I took in a deep breath as he sat in a red suede chair with ropes slung behind them. A sparkle appeared in his eye, and I knew he enjoyed commanding me. Truth be known, I enjoyed being commanded.

The dress had long buttons down the front, and I worked my way from top to bottom, making sure to take my time.

"Look at me when you do it."

My eyes locked with his as I unbuttoned the last ones and the silk slipped off my shoulders. After a few more clasps, my bra fell to the floor. He groaned deeply with approval as he took me in.

One leg after another, I slipped out of my panties, lifted them, and then dropped them on the floor. I bent down to remove the straps from my heels until I wore absolutely nothing. He clenched his jaw and swallowed. My insides convulsed as I stared at him.

"Walk towards me."

Once in front of him, I could see the faint outline of the erection in his pants. Commanding me turned him on, and knowing that turned me on.

"Straddle me."

I swallowed and wrapped my legs around him.

Oh god. His hardness rubbed against me, driving me crazy.

"Move against me. As if you were having sex."

I drove my hips into him, and my breathing increased. New and different, and alive, so turned on that I wanted to go further. A moan escaped me from the simple pleasure of his friction between me. I ran my fingers through his messy hair as I grinded slowly against him. The more I moved, the harder I pushed myself onto him. With a swift movement, he grabbed my hands from his hair and held my wrists behind my back. I had lost control.

"You do as I say, not as you want."

Being restricted made me want it more. He leaned his head closer to my breasts and flicked each nipple with his strong tongue.

I couldn't help but let another moan escape.

"Mmm. I can smell your sweetness. Do you like this?"

"Yes, sir." The words fell from my mouth, and I became putty in his hands. With my arms still behind my back, I continued to move my hips on him. He released my arms.

"Go to the bed." Without hesitation, I removed myself from him. But I could feel the ache between my legs as I walked.

I wanted to be fucked.

"I want to see you touch yourself."

This was it, I thought. Heat rushed up my body and found my cheeks. Every bit of my face went warm as I responded.

"Yes, sir."

He smiled with sweet delight.

I let my hands slowly trail over my breasts, down my stomach, until they found themselves in between. Nervously, I opened my legs and let my fingers slide up and down, feeling the wetness. Mr. Felton did this to me. Made me want to be taken.

"I don't want you to come until I tell you to and when you're close, back away."

I took my time as I explored and learned my body. He watched me search and pleasure myself sexually. His eyes were on me, and I took my time touching, moaning, and allowing my toes to curl when I got close. But I didn't come as he instructed although I wanted to so bad. Each time I hit my peak, I panted and pinched my nipples, hoping my body would calm down.

I had never been so turned on.

I tilted my head to get a good look at him. He took off his shirt, and I couldn't stop staring at his lean stomach muscles that looked as if they were chiseled from rock. Mr. Felton walked to the bed and forced opened my legs. Pushing his erection onto me, he slammed my wrists above my head. The roughness, a pure sexually driven act of dominance that mingled with lust, was bad news. The desire to let loose and be completely physical overcame me as he trailed his fingers along my collarbone. Then he was touching me in all the right places, allowing my orgasm to build, my pulse to race, and my breath to quicken.

"Please, sir. Give it to me." My body begged for satisfaction. I begged for satisfaction.

Mr. Felton was on top of me, his body above mine, and he was staring into my eyes.

"Is this how you imagined it? Being taken?" He didn't move, but the pressure on me, encouraged me to wrap my legs around him.

"Exactly," I choked out, breathless.

"You're so wet, so turned on, so ready to be fucked," he whispered, soft and sensually, in my ear. His lips were close to my neck, trailing up and down, taking little nibbles along the way. The smell of fresh soap and man lingered.

"I want it so bad," I whispered in his ear. "I can barely stand it."

"Good," he said, deep and raspy.

He lay next to me on the bed and propped himself up with one elbow and trailed his fingers over my body lightly before pulling something out of the drawer next to the bed. He returned with a black silky material in his hands. With great care, he wrapped it over my eyes and the room went dark.

With soft fingertips, he trailed up the side of my body and stomach. The feel of his touch intensified because I couldn't see him. I almost lost myself in it. With one finger, he crossed my mouth and traced my bottom lip with his, and then continued down my jawline. My body instantly responded. The next thing I knew, one nipple was in his mouth, and his tongue circled the tip and flicked it around. I almost couldn't handle myself. Handfuls of sheets and blanket were in my grasp. He pulled away, groaned, and kissed down my stomach with his soft, luscious lips. Behind this tiger of a man was someone gentle, sensitive, and sexually driven.

Like clockwork, I parted my legs as his hand searched below my stomach. He readjusted himself and then moved his body back into position between me. I could feel the pressure of his cock on my sex, and it felt good, hard and longing for me. His lips searched and teased my mouth. When I moved in to kiss him, he pulled away.

"Rule number two, never kiss a client on his or her mouth," he purred.

"But."

He placed his finger over my mouth and whispered in my ear. "Shh. If you are to be one of my girls, you have to play by the rules."

"This is protocol, right?"

"You are mouthy, aren't you?"

"Will it hurt when you go inside of me?"

"No," he chuckled. "I'm not going to fuck you, Ms. Downs."

But my body begged for pleasure, and he undid the blindfold.

"I want you to look at me while you come. Imagine me pushing deep inside of that pretty pussy," he said. The way he looked at my body as if it were precious gold turned me on. I may have never had sex before, but at that moment, I wanted to be fucked, and hard.

He rubbed his hand over my breast and down over my belly button until he was down below. Parting my sex, he rubbed clockwise with his index and middle finger allowing my wetness to lubricate. The slow, steady movements felt like heaven. Little moans escaped from me as he picked up the pace and moved his hands horizontally and then vertically, learning what I liked most.

"Ohhh," I moaned as he discovered me.

"That's it. Moan as loud as you want. It's fucking sexy," he whispered.

The circular movements became faster and harder, and everything below began to tighten as if I would completely detonate into nothingness. I pushed my sex into him harder. I wanted him to keep going, keep pleasuring me into sweet oblivion. I grabbed the blanket and waited for the sweet release.

"Yes. I am almost there."

But instead of continuing, he stopped before I tipped over the edge.

"How does it feel?" The smile on his face was sinister and evil.

"How do you want me to feel?"

Before I could say another word, Mr. Felton flipped me onto my stomach and pinned me to the bed. With a slight movement, he moved my hair from my neck and whispered in my ear.

"While here, I don't answer your fucking sarcastic questions, Ms. Downs." And that's when I felt a burning, but pleasurable pain from his hand on my ass. I grabbed the comforter, and another semi-soft slap came, and another, and another, and then my arms were pinned against the wall, and he was touching my clit from behind. I pushed my ass onto his erection, and he groaned.

"Concentrate on how you feel. Tell me," he said, gently.

I closed my eyes letting my body respond to his touch.

"I want you to fuck me. Not soft, but hard. I want to be your whore, your dirty, little sex slave, and have you come so hard that it hurts. I want to make you feel like I do." I pushed into him, feeling his dick ache for me.

Still behind me, he forcefully pulled me against him, my back to his chest, and trailed one hand up my waist as his other continued to explore below. I grabbed my nipples and pinched, allowing the sweet sensation to shoot through my body.

"You're so fucking hot," he said into my shoulder, biting the curve.

A warm and tingly sensation spread from my clit to my vagina. My toes began to curl, and I knew I would soon lose myself in the rhythm. Every part of my body tensed, and I cried out in satisfaction until each inch of me relaxed and melted into him. I leaned against his bare chest, and he wrapped his arms around my stomach, and placed his chin on my shoulder. For a moment, I thought I felt his face contract into a smile.

"I want to please you," I said to the wall that I still faced.

"You couldn't fucking handle me, Ms. Downs." He gave a small slap to my ass and then moved himself from the bed and began to dress.

"Mr. Felton," I whispered.

"What we do in here is a lesson to help you understand what your body likes and craves. I can't have an inexperienced virgin running around."

"So this was protocol?"

"Understanding your body will allow you to better please our clients."

"Clients? You are always the fucking asshole," I muttered and lay down on the bed.

"I guarantee one hundred percent satisfaction. Oh, and get dressed, Ms. Downs. We don't sleep where we play."

Twelve

The next morning, I woke to cool sheets and an empty bed. Curtains allowed streaks of dim light to stack and spread among the wooden floor. Morning had barely come, but my body woke with an eagerness to start the day.

I needed to know more about Finnley Felton. I opened the browser on my phone and searched his name. 1 million pages showed. Finnley Felton, Sexiest CEO Under Thirty. Pictures of him with women on vacation, in suits, at movie premieres; he was everywhere.

I found pages of gossip sites with rumors of him and celebrities and countless interviews. I searched the web for an hour, trying to soak up as much information about him as I could. Mr. Felton was only five years older than me, and known for being a bastard in social situations. Someone pinned the tail on the ass that was my boss.

The floor felt cold on my feet, so I slid on the pink slippers and slipped down the stairs.

Surprisingly, Mr. Felton sat at the table sipping a cup of cream-filled coffee as he read the paper. Before making myself known, I watched how he acted when he thought no one was looking.

Completely comfortable in his skin, he chuckled as he read and sipped. Although it was barely light outside, Mr. Felton dressed professionally in a brown vest, cream dress shirt, and a checkered tie that brought out the red hues in the browns. I realized how early his days must begin. I supposed being the CEO of a successful sex corporation, and being ranked as one of the sexiest men in business, wasn't easy.

"Come in, Ms. Downs. Have a seat." His eyes never left the newspaper.

Damn it. Busted.

Gently, he folded the newspaper in half and then interlocked his fingers. He greeted me with a soft smile although it never reached his eyes.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmhmm, like a baby."

"How rude of me. Would you like a cup of coffee, or tea, even? I'll make it how I like it. You do know the English are known for excellent coffee and tea, and for many, many other things."

With a purpose, he stood and walked to the kitchen. Cups tinkered together as Mr. Felton hummed a soft tune. He hummed, too?

I couldn't help but fantasize and replay the events of last night. The way he straddled me, and held my wrists above my head, or the way I wanted it.

A delicate coffee cup and saucer with a cookie scooted in front of me. Steam rose from the top and the sweet scent of cream and sugar smelled like heaven.

"It's hot, be careful."

I picked the thin glass cup and blew the steam from the top, then placed it back on the saucer with a smile and a thank you. The tension pulled at the pit of my stomach, and I wanted to talk about last night, but didn't. Awkwardness stretched on for minutes before either of us spoke. With hopes for a distraction, I took a small nibble from the soft, honey-covered cookie. Sweet warmth filled my mouth, and before I knew it, I had eaten the whole thing.

"Would you like another?"

"Oh no, no thank you. Did you make them?"

"Does the sun rise every morning? It's my mother's biscuit recipe, passed down from her mother's mother, and so on."

"Biscuit? I thought that was a cookie."

"Not quite."

The thought of him mixing flour and salt and sugar to create something so fulfilling, warmed me.

"Finding a man who enjoys and appreciates cooking is a delicacy. Maybe one day I'll share my secrets with you. Cooking can be fun, you know."

I laughed. "I hate cooking."

"You must have never been taught to really cook. It's rewarding to mix different ingredients together and create a concoction of something you want. Something that your body needs and desires. Something that satisfies you, but leaves you wanting more. And although you might want to share, and others may want a bite, you know deep down inside it's best to be greedy, and keep the secret to yourself. I don't particularly like to share."

Lips, luscious and full, mixed with soft, sensual words created a sexual tension that almost drove me from my seat. I swallowed, and my pulse quickened. I couldn't stop imaging his hands on me, touching me, teasing me, pleasing me. We weren't talking about recipes, or biscuits. No, it was much bigger than that.

"I'm a man who always gets what he wants. But recently, I've found myself caught between wants and needs, and am unsure of which path to take. Life. It's funny, isn't it?"

He sipped his coffee and watched me over the rim of the cup. I hesitated before I spoke, but I had to know.

"What do you want in life, sir?"

"A question I've yet to discover the answer to. Now it's my turn to ask you the same."

Long eyelashes and messy hair made up Mr. Felton. A perfect picture of poise and sex.

"I want happiness."

"It seems like a simple answer to a simple question, but it is much deeper than that. Seems like something is missing in your life, and you are steadily trying to fill the void."

Ding. Ding. Ding. Is he a mind reader?

"That may be true, but I think you struggle with the same thing. The two of us aren't that different from one another."

"It's not easy being this intelligent, or good looking," he said.

Mr. Felton gathered the plates that sat in front of us both and brought them to the kitchen. The refrigerator closed and opened several times, and the water ran in the sink. I leaned on the doorframe and watched him wipe the counters, put up the flour, and rinse the dishes. He was a bit of a Susie Homemaker. I smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"Just thinking about how domestic you are."

"No, I will not fuck you. I'm saving myself for marriage," he said.

"Then you'll be saving yourself forever, won't you?"

His face turned grave. The attitude went from happy-go-lucky to bleak in seconds.

"I'm sorry," he said, and darted his eyes toward me before returning to the counter he wiped so diligently. I didn't respond. There was no reason to. But the silence pressed on, and I knew it was time to leave. I stood, and he wiped his hands on a dishtowel and walked toward me. I straightened instantaneously.

His thumb found my lips and he traced the outside of them before running his fingers through my hair and grabbing the bottom of my chin.

I waited.

I waited for him to make his move, to kiss me, to pin me against the wall, but instead, he stared into my eyes and then walked passed me. My heart fluttered and then fell. The stairs acted as his getaway car to escape me. Before taking another step, he turned around and didn't take his eyes from me.

"You said last night that you wanted to please me. You do, Ms. Downs. You don't even fucking know."

I opened my mouth to speak. To call out to him. But instead, I stood there in the kitchen. Once I heard his door close, I exhaled.

Thirteen

I crawled back in bed, hoping for a do-over on the day. Too many mixed emotions bounced around in me like constantly moving particles. I lay there for at least an hour staring at the blank ceiling, trying to replay the morning.

The trigger was the mention of a marriage. Once that was said, the morning went to shit. I would never mention that in a conversation again and made note to find out more information.

Maybe Lori would know.

I grabbed the little notebook next to the bed and wrote a quick, little sentence to remind me to ask her. Since she'd been back, we'd both been busy. But today, we had planned to have brunch: mimosas and turkey sandwiches at a cute, little diner in town. It reminded me of home, and did the same for her, so we met for lunch, once a week. I wore a cute little dress; yellow and sunny, hoping it would bring my sour mood to another level.

No panties today. I didn't feel like it. I wanted to be scandalous in my own little way. And then my mind traveled back to Mr. Felton. I hated that he walked away from me. How could I know what I said would upset him when I don't really know him at all?

I tucked the little notebook into my clutch, grabbed the keys to the Honda, and arrived five minutes early. Lori, always on time and punctual, had been waiting for at least ten minutes.

We sat in the corner, in our regular place, and I pulled out the notebook and started going down the questions.

"Why do some men like to be called 'sir'?"

"It's because they like to be thought of as the dominant to their submissive. It's kinky and sexy all at the same time. I've got a few sirs."

Next question. I didn't know how to say it or how to word it, but I asked anyway.

"Does Mr. Felton train all of his girls, you know, to be sexual?"

Lori dropped her fork on her plate with a clink. I gave her the most confused look I could muster. She finished chewing her food and then stared at me long and hard.

"No."

My adrenaline pumped, and I couldn't help but be nervous. Was I breaking the rules, with my boss? Would I be fired?

"No, he doesn't. Not to say he hasn't, but he hasn't in quite a long time, like years. Is he… is he teaching you?"

"Yes. Should he not be?"

"Oh, it's his right to teach whomever he pleases, but…"

She paused for a long time, searching for the right words.

"But, he doesn't because it always becomes too personal."

I flushed.

Personal: the word that so easily described every bit of Mr. Felton and me.

"But you're different, Jennifer. He handpicked you. He sees something in you that he likes, not to say that he shouldn't, but he's our boss. It's dangerous territory. Just be careful. Okay?"

"Dangerous, like how? Will he hurt me?"

"Oh no. He won't hurt you. Mr. Felton would never let anyone hurt his girls, not even him. The only thing that might hurt is your heart. Build a wall. He isn't an asshole bastard. It's just, he is the kind of guy that women fall in love with."

"I see, and I would like to disagree with you on the asshole bastard thing. He is pretty assholish and bastardish."

"Assholes are kind of sexy, I think. Training is important, especially since you know you're a virgin," she whispered. Then she continued talking at her normal volume. "But don't take anything personally. Block your emotions like we learned in etiquette training. He is only preparing you for your Number One. You must remember that, no matter what happens."

"I won't fall in love with him. He's too much of a dick for me." I had to say it out loud. I had to believe that it was true.

"If you know what's best, you'll avoid the mention of love at all costs."

"This morning, I joked about Mr. Felton getting married, and he acted weird. Why?"

The waitress, Sue Mary, arrived with another round of mimosas. We thanked her as we sipped from mismatched champagne glasses.

Lori leaned over the table and whispered.

"He was married before."

"Really? Oh my god. Did she divorce him or something?"

"She died, Jennifer. He moved to the States for her. They fell madly in love. She was pregnant with their firstborn, and a few months before she was due, she was involved in a fatal car accident. It killed both her and Mr. Felton's unborn son."

"Oh my god. I feel horrible."

"Don't worry about it. He's still sensitive about it, and it's been wow, six years, I think? He was young, like your age, when it happened. I secretly think that's why he hates love so much. It was a tragic love story like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. I don't think The Elite would be here today if it hadn't happened. Felton created the business to busy himself into forgetting about his wife and son, but I don't think it worked."

I couldn't speak. I was such a fucking idiot. Out of everyone in the house, I knew what it felt like to lose someone close. No wonder he turned cold. I sipped my drink, hoping to drink my dumbness away.

Changing the subject abruptly, Lori said, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Luke has a weekend getaway scheduled for the two of you."

"What?" I semi-yelled.

"Shh. I overheard Jesse telling Mr. Felton early this morning in the kitchen. You'll find out this afternoon, and leave in the morning, so try to act surprised?"

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm sure it will be somewhere sexy. Damn, that man is gorgeous."

I smiled thinking about Luketon and I playing on the swing set, watching the light show at the park.

We finished our mimosas, paid our ticket, and tipped Sue Mary a few hundred dollars. The old woman loved us, which is why she made our drinks so damn strong.

* * *

Lori and I arrived back at the same time, but she left quickly afterward to meet a client. The afternoon crept in, and the shadows of the house moved across the lawn.

Knowing that I would be somewhere else tomorrow gave me a thrill. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning. And then the thought of my parents appeared, and the happiness subsided. Damn it. I pulled myself from the dark place I went when I thought of them, closed my eyes, and then opened them quickly.

I would be somewhere else tomorrow. I tried to focus on that and that alone. The four mimosas I drank helped.

Not a soul stirred in the house. Not a car in the driveway. Quietness lingered.

A door closed upstairs and footsteps softly pounded down the hall. I sipped a bottle of water at the kitchen table as I checked the outrageous amount of spam email on my phone.

Mr. Felton walked to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and sat across from me at the table. I gave a half smile and then returned my attention back to my phone. He continued to stare.

"What?"

"You're always thinking about something. Even as you do what you're doing, you are always somewhere else. Your gears are always turning, aren't they?"

"Just wondering how I got on all of the spam email lists. Must be all the porn I'm subscribed to."

He chuckled and almost spit his water out on me.

"Watch it, buddy, don't get me wet."

He gave me that smile along with the look that said he would rip the clothes right off of my body if he could.

He swallowed, and then so did I. The tension went from slack to tight in five seconds. The next thing I knew, he was pushing his seat in and moving toward me. I stood as he stood beside me, my heart beating five hundred miles per hour, faster than V could drive, faster than I could imagine.

Mr. Felton moved my chair and lifted me onto the kitchen table, sliding everything that was in his way onto the floor. He laid me across the cold oak. His lips met my neck, and his fingers trailed up and down my arms. My dress found its way up my thighs, and his hands followed suit.

"No panties? You are scandalous, Ms. Downs. You scandalous little virgin."

"Shut up," I said.

His kisses, his touch, the intensity of his wanderlust across my body made me instantly wet. He continued to touch me in naughty places, playing with me. Placing one finger on the outside of my sex and then trailing around it slowly only to make my insides quake and beg for him.

"Do you like it?" he whispered in my ear. I nodded my head, pleading with my eyes.

"Tell me," he said.

"I fucking love it."

"Tell me what you want me to do to you."

I gulped and sat up on the table. The edge of it pressing into my butt, making indents. The slight pain prickled, and I reveled in it. I had never told a man what I wanted him to do, but there was a naughty inside girl that wanted, needed to be free. A naughty girl who desired to be fucked and wanted to be completely submissive to Mr. Felton, having him fulfill my sexual desires.

"You know what I want," I said as I slowly undid each button of his shirt and trailed my hands over his abs. He closed his eyes with delight, but I wanted to stare into them because I knew what he wanted.

He pounced on top of me and held my hands tight above my head. I opened my legs wide, and he thrust his hardness within his suit pants against me. My insides throbbed with a want so powerful that I moaned.

"Is this what you want?" He thrust harder on me, and I wrapped my legs around him.

"Yes. Yes," I panted and begged.

My hips naturally moved in motion, and I wanted nothing more than Mr. Felton to take me, to pound me, to become the rightful owner of my virginity.

"You want to be fucked, don't you? Tell me. Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, sir. I want you to take me right here on this fucking table. I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to think of me every time you sit at this table to eat dinner. Or drink tea. Or eat a fucking biscuit. Now."

He pushed onto me one last time and then let his face hover over mine as he focused on my mouth. He bit his bottom lip and all I wanted to do was suck on it. Warm breath danced on my face, and I reached up to kiss his mouth, but he pulled away and slid off of the table.

"I think you're ready. I'll inform the bidders that you'll officially consummate the deal, and the bid inquires will be placed for your virginity. Could happen as early as next Friday. Also, pack your bags. You'll be taking a trip with Luketon tomorrow and won't return for a few days."

After buttoning the perfectly white shirt, he adjusted himself, and then left the room. I balled my fists and swallowed the anger back.

All I wanted was Finnley Felton, and all he wanted was customer satisfaction.

Looks like I was fucked either way.

Fourteen

Lowering my dress, I picked up everything from the floor and tried to rearrange it exactly how it was before.

As I walked to the kitchen to grab a towel, Lori entered through the front door, and saw the spilled water across the wooden floor.

"What happened here, clumsy?"

"That's exactly what it was. Clumsy, clumsy, stupid ass me."

We laughed, and I cleaned up the mess. I couldn't tell her, but I wanted to. Some details were left better for me to deal with on my own. Together, we took the stairs two at a time, and before I made it to my room, I asked Lori if she wanted to help me pack because I would be going on vacation with Luketon. I jabbed about how excited I was, loudly because I wanted Mr. Felton to hear every fucking word I said.

As I closed the door, she gave me one of those be-quiet looks, and I explained to her that I knew already, that Mr. Felton told me when I got home.

"He did? Good. Do you know where you're going yet?"

"Nope. No clue. But I will be happy for a vacation."

She started pulling things from my closet and dresser drawers, and we had pieces of clothing for each type of weather packed. Bathing suits to sexy lingerie, even winter socks and sweaters. I would be gone for two days, so having a variety of things that all fit into a suitcase worked.

"What if he wants to have sex tomorrow?" I asked her. Worried that I wouldn't do it right.

"It doesn't work like that. When the management team thinks you're ready to give your virginity, they'll send out the inquiry letters to bidders. They must return a sealed envelope, and the one with the highest bid wins you."

"It will happen next Friday. Felton told me today."

"So quickly? What's changed?"

"Not sure. Maybe it's all the porn magazines he found in my room?"

She knew I was joking. It was something I joked about often. We laughed; she rolled her eyes, and then went about her business.

After dinner, I sat by the heated pool with my feet dangling in the steamy water. All the other girls were gone, which seemed to be the norm lately. The water dragged between my toes as I read a novel about witches and magic love potions. I laid back on the rock surface and continued to read. I only had a few more chapters left.

As I turned the next page, I saw Mr. Felton standing above me.

"You shouldn't be out here while it's this windy. You might get a cold."

"Why do you care?"

His eyes narrowed in on me. "Because it's my job."

I closed the book and tried to walk away. Mr. Felton grabbed my arm, the one without the book and pulled me toward him.

"Why are you leaving so quickly?"

"It's bedtime. I need to be rested for my trip tomorrow."

"You're a horrible liar."

"So are you."

He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth, and then let it fall back into place. A small gesture, but one that said I had hit the nail on the head.

"I'm ready to get this over with. That's all. I feel…"

"Go on. Finish."

"I have too much sexual tension built up inside of me. You're driving me crazy. I want to experience sex and get it over with. It's a fucking burden."

He stared at me and didn't say a word.

"I've said too much. Etiquette training didn't work, did it?"

"Saying too much with clients and being truthful with me are completely different."

I sighed and tried to walk away.

"Come here." The demand in his tone made me cower.

He moved my hair over my shoulders and tucked the loose pieces behind my ears. The wind blew, causing hair to become disheveled and out of place. He stared into my eyes as if he were searching for the answer to a question. I stared back. Little pieces of his greens mixed with browns creating the perfect representation of autumn. I envied those eyes, that color, the ones that seemed to stand out in the night.

"I'm sorry about your wife," I said.

"Who told you?"

"The internet," I said making sure not to tell on Lori. His face went dark, and then he composed himself.

"Oh, yes. Must have gotten days' worth of reads from that. What else did you learn?"

"Your birthday, past girlfriends, your age, net worth, you know, everything all the rumor sites possibly could post about the hottest fucking CEO under the age of thirty, as one webpage put it. Did you know you have your own fan page? I wanted to warn them about how much of an asshole you were, and how half of those things weren't true but—"

Mr. Felton's lips were kissing my collarbone, trailing up my neck, and nibbling on my earlobe.

"Sometimes you should really learn to shut the fuck up," he whispered.

I reached down and grabbed his cock from the outside of his pants. He groaned. He was hard, ready for me.

I placed my lips on the outside of his ear, and my breath caught when his hands found their way up my shirt, pinching my nipples.

"You should learn to take your own advice," I mumbled.

And then his lips were on my mouth, and we were lost in each other's taste. His lips, so soft, nibbled on my bottom lip, and then his tongue wrestled with mine. I should have been surprised, but a part of me wasn't. My body instantly responded to his touches, sweet kisses on my neck, and fingers through my hair.

"You're still an asshole," I whispered into his mouth. His kisses deepened, and the amount of want and longing in them took my breath away. We were taking steps back until we both fell into the pool fully clothed.

I bust out laughing

He roughly undressed me, removed my shirt and bra, pants and panties. We were in the water, and he was taking off his shirt. Our bodies completely wet in the warmness. He pushed me against the side and smiled.

My body wanted him. Needed him. He put his arms on the edge of the pool, pinning me against the cement wall. The water felt so good, and his mouth was roving over mine again. My lips ached with intense kisses, and he continued to watch my body respond, listen to me moan, and allow me to grab his soaking wet hair in my fists.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked.

I wanted it. I wanted him. I couldn't answer.

His hands were on my breast, were on my sex, were running through my hair, and I was unzipping his wet pants, hoping that we would go further, wanting to go further. Lust was ablaze, and it would burn the whole world down if we let it.

"You're making me feel… fucking amazing," I whispered.

He pulled his soaking wet pants up and told me no with his eyes. But then guided his fingers between me. I pushed into him, letting my hips guide me. Letting the passion lead the way, he barely dipped his finger inside of me, continuing to pleasure until the feeling of sweet release built. He trailed himself up my body, over my breasts until his finger was in my mouth. I sucked, and his eyes lit up with lust.

"I want to taste you," he whispered.

"You're a greedy thing aren't you?" I whispered.

He pushed his erection harder onto me, and I was wrapping my legs around him and touching myself while I floated in the water.

I closed my eyes and brought my hands to his. The little bump between my legs felt swollen. I began to move two fingers on top of it until my body fully responded and begged me to give it more. The motions became more frequent, and I removed my hand before I completely let myself go.

Oh. The feeling. I panted and moaned as I arched my back.

"Moan louder. I want to hear you."

"Oh. Oh, Finn," I screamed his name.

And he was biting my neck and my shoulders, and coating me with licks and kisses as I continued to push myself closer to the edge.

"That's fucking sexy when you say my name."

I closed my eyes as the build started all over my body again, and my muscles became tenser than before. The movements became faster, deeper, harder, the same as my moans until I couldn't handle it anymore.

"I think I'm about to…" I forced out between pants, and then he dipped his finger inside of me and I touched myself more slowly. Allowing the orgasm to build until it was almost painful, until I felt like I couldn't breathe. Then I was bucking and moaning his name. I wrapped my arms around his neck while I lost myself in the water. Deep breaths and rapid heartbeats followed along with hard longing kisses. When I finally opened my eyes, Finn watched me, hungrily.

"I love it when you scream my name," he whispered.

I wanted to talk, but he placed a finger over my mouth, moved the damp hair from my forehead. This was no time to talk. No words could describe the feeling of him kissing me or being so close and intimate in the pool.

"Don't ruin this with stupid words," he said, and then kissed me like tomorrow would never come.

Fifteen

The morning came quick, almost as fast as I did the night before, and I woke with a start. As I received my itinerary and curfew, Mr. Felton couldn't stop talking about how I would make one of his clients very happy.

Stupid ass client talk.

Jesse met me at the door with my morning vitamins and mumbled something about how she was glad I was on the birth control shot and complained about how I should learn to be more punctual like her. Ignoring her bitchiness, I walked out of the door as I saw the Volvo pull into the drive.

Luke opened my car door with a smile and loaded my suitcases. I had no clue where we were going. Not an idea, no hint, nothing. Surprises, weren't they lovely?

"Do you want to know where we're going?"

"Yes, please. Pretty, please? Pretty, pretty please?"

He wouldn't tell me. He dropped hints like "it's not the beach, but it's close." Okay, so we were going somewhere warm.

Once we checked our bags, Luke handed me a ticket to Hobby Airport.

Houston. My heart dropped.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the home of Janis Joplin," he replied.

The color on my face drained. I turned my head so he wouldn't see as he continued to talk about it.

"There's this new bed and breakfast that was voted one of the best new places to visit in the U.S. I really think you'll enjoy it, and it's country living. You said you loved that."

The brochure was tucked inside of his laptop bag, and he pulled it out and handed it to me. I thought I would be sick when the Welcome to Port Arthur sign covered the brochure.

"I've got a project, and I need to visit for research."

On the front was my childhood home, but instead of gray, the house was painted stark white, the shudders were perfectly straight, and professional landscaping had been done. A waterfall was installed in the front yard, and the shell drive was now pavement and circular.

I opened the rest of the brochure and saw a big, red barn in the backyard, and a pasture dotted with horses. Along with a man-made pond and floating deck. My parents would have been happy with what was done with the place, and the attention it was getting, but we couldn't go there. Not Luke and I. Not in a town where everyone knew everyone. I left to get away and returning would only make leaving again hard.

We made our way to the waiting area. My nerves were on edge, and I couldn't help but feel this way. If I told him why we couldn't go, he would know more than he needed, but if we went, he would find out anyway. I supposed the visit home, literally, would be an experience if nothing else.

Luke told me about his parents, his brother, and opened himself up to me while we were in the waiting area. On the plane, he interlaced his fingers with mine and whispered sweet things in my ears. I liked them. I liked the little compliments.

The plane landed in Houston, and we rented a car. Two grueling hours passed on the way to Port Arthur, and I dreaded every second. Texas living fascinated Luke. He loved the rolling hills, green grass, and even liked how I-10 stretched across the Lone Star State.

"Where are you from again? Which part?"

I turned to him and decided it was time to tell him the truth. Now or never.

"Port Arthur."

He pulled over on the side of the highway. Cars passed us going eighty miles per hour, and the wind whipped around the car.

"You should have told me at the airport. I could have changed our plans. Texas is huge. We could have gone anywhere."

"I know, but you seemed excited about going. I didn't want to ruin that for you. It's fine. Seriously, we're only thirty minutes away from Winnie. You'll have a good time. I'll show you around."

Dread should have been my first name, and Liar, my middle.

"You don't have to lie, you know. We can change our plans. I want you to be happy."

"It's perfect. I've been meaning to come back anyway."

When we entered Port Arthur, I thought I might be sick. The closer we inched toward my street, the quicker I wanted to run away. Once we turned onto the driveway, I knew there was no turning back. I was committed.

The pavement felt smooth under the tires. I took a deep breath before we walked inside. The porch was lined with rocking chairs, all the paint chips were scraped away and covered, and the rotten boards replaced. I slid my hand up the railing to the porch and opened the front door.

Inside, the living room had been arranged like a hotel. I peeked into the kitchen and saw new countertops and paint. A few walls were removed, and others added. The house wasn't the same. It wasn't the one that I grew up in and that fact alone would make the stay easier. It was only two nights, after all. I could handle a weekend.

The woman's face brightened when she caught sight of me over the counter. "Oh, Jennifer. We are so darn excited to see you here. We didn't know you were coming."

I faked a smile. "Yes, ma'am. I just had to come visit the place after hearing about all those good reviews. Congratulations, Mrs. Becky."

The people that bought the house also operated the place. How could I have been so stupid to think they wouldn't be here, or recognize me?

"I really think your parents would be proud with what we've done to the place. Mrs. Shirley told us about their plans and things, and well, we wanted to keep the spirit of what might have been, ya know?"

I wanted to melt into the floor, or wiggle my nose and disappear. Luke, as handsome as ever, stood with his hand on the small of my back.

"And who's this handsome young man?"

"Oh this is Luketon, my boyfriend," I added, just so no more questions would be asked.

Mrs. Becky Hanley, obviously thinking she was being cute, whispered loud enough for him to hear, "Oh he's miggghhtttyyyy fine. A keeper if I don't say so myself. So when y'all gettin' married? You're moving back home to raise those beautiful kids you're gonna make, right?"

I smiled at her, thinking up my next lie before Luke said, "Honey, I know you're tired, but want to help me grab the bags and bring them upstairs?"

Mrs. Hanley told us on our way out that our room was upstairs, the second on the right. What were the odds that I would be sleeping in my old bedroom?

Outside, Luke removed the bags from the car and leaned up against the trunk with his arms crossed. He waited for me to tell him what was going on, but I didn't feel like talking.

"Are you ok?" he finally asked me. "You look a little ill."

"Yes. No. I mean, yes I'm fine, and no I'm not sick."

"Are you going to tell me the truth now? You looked like you were drowning inside. I had to save you and give you mouth to mouth before that woman swallowed you whole. Who is she?"

"I don't want to lie to you. But I don't want to talk about it right now."

I grabbed my suitcase and wheeled it up the steps. Before we entered, he placed his hand on my shoulder and then opened the door. A fake smile spread across my face, and Mr. Hanley gave me a warm welcome.

Other visitors checked-in, and together Luke and I climbed the stairs. Although downstairs was unrecognizable, the layout of the top floor had barely changed. Only updated light fixtures, paint, and a new wooden floor made it different.

Every inch of my room had changed. The window was larger, the floor new, and a chandelier hung from the tall ceiling. An antique wrought iron bed sat against the long wall, and had a homemade quilt draped across it. My bathroom had been updated as well. Bright Tejas tiles lined the stand-up shower and little State of Texas decorations lined the walls, sink, and even the toilet cover. The Hanley's did an amazing job. Impressive to say the least. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that I was somewhere else.

Luke dropped the suitcases on the floor and plopped down on the bed. He lifted himself up on one elbow and motioned for me to come to him, I did.

Opening his arms, I crawled into them, and we lay together. Nothing sexual, nothing out of bounds, just a simple gesture that I desperately needed. I wanted to feel safe, and he made me feel that way.

"I'm not sure what's going on with you right now. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?"

I wrapped my arm around his stomach and scooted as close as I could to him.

"So I'm your boyfriend for the weekend?"

I looked into his eyes. "Yep. Just wait until tonight, when we go into to town."

"You called it town," he said. "That's so cute."

* * *

Sprinkles hit the window, causing us both to stir. Riding on the plane, and on my emotional roller coaster, seemed to have worn us both out, but it didn't stop us from taking showers and going out on the town. I laughed at the thought.

Luke wore a teal polo and a pair of vintage cut jeans. He smiled at me when I stepped out in a black, high-waist button-up dress and a red belt. Two-inch high heels, I wasn't trying to get crazy.

"You're ready? Already?"

"I'm not high maintenance."

He led me down the stairs. The boards that used to creak no longer did. Every imperfection in the house had been fixed. I never thought it would look so well preserved. We smiled at the other guests in the living room area and were out the door.

Crickets and cicadas buzzed in a harmonic symphony of sounds. They usually did that after a light rain. Luke opened the car door for me, and I shut it before climbing in, and adjusted the collar on his polo. Then I gently wrapped my arms around his neck and thanked him. His arms fit around my waist, and he lifted me slightly from the ground. Once he set me down, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I appreciate the gesture to drive, but really, let me."

The keys found their way to my palm. I slid into the driver's side and zoomed down the driveway, again. Watching the house fade away to nothingness reminded me of the day I left for Vegas. But the house, along with myself, had transformed into something I didn't know. If it could talk, I imagined it would say it didn't recognize me either, but changing was inevitable.

Living in an oil town meant there were several restaurants open all hours of the night. Although there was nothing high-class like in Vegas, I had the perfect place. Tuscany: where there were unlimited pastabilities.

The setting, cute and old-fashioned, would be perfect. We parked on the side of the street and walked inside. The bell above the door let everyone know we entered. Little candles decorated the checkered table clothes, and for that moment as I studied Luke perusing the menu, I thought that he possibly could fit in, in a place like this, my home. Where expensive cars, corporate offices, and Elite members-only clubs didn't exist. Only the two of us mattered here while enjoying one another's company with no interruptions or worries.

"Thank you," I said over the menu that I wasn't really looking at because I practically had it memorized.

"For?"

"Planning this. None of the things back in Vegas really matter while we're here. You know? It feels different."

Luke grabbed my hands and a girl I went to high school with took our order. I ordered my favorite spaghetti and meatballs and Luke had the same and ordered a bottle of Bruno's Cranberry Wine.

"How did you know that cranberry was my favorite?"

"Lucky guess, I suppose."

Minutes passed, and the waitress arrived with a bottle and no cork, and poured the wine into the empty glasses.

"Oh, hey, Jennifer. What have you been up to? Heard you were engaged and living in Vegas."

Typical small town rumors laced with typical small town talk.

"Oh, hey." I couldn't remember her name; how embarrassing. "I've been up to nothing, just working. And no, I'm not engaged."

Better to squash the rumor while I had a chance. The girl looked at Luke, and I knew what this meant, she expected an introduction.

"This is Luketon Brand, my boyfriend."

She took his hand willingly. "Oh a pleasure, Mr. Brand. I'm Julie Jean."

"Call me Luke, please."

She giggled nervously. "Where are you from, Luke? Not here, obviously."

I gritted my teeth. This was how rumors exploded into the abyss. The chatty women only need a little bit of information and the stories would spread like wildfire.

"I'm from a little town in the U.K. close to London."

"Oohhh. Well, welcome to Texas, honey."

She didn't take her eyes from Luke, and I didn't blame her. He looked good. The teal polo shirt accentuated his crystal blue eyes. Any woman around here would be insane to not go for a beautiful, single man like him.

"Well, if you and Jennifer ever break up, you call me, darlin'."

I placed my hand close to my mouth and whispered "I'm sorry." He gave a nod toward me and sipped his wine as she walked away.

"How embarrassing," I said.

He played along. "I may ring her if she leaves her number."

"Hardy har har. Just your type, Luke."

He leaned across the table and asked, "What is my type?"

"I'd like to think I'm your type," I whispered.

Luke bit his bottom lip. That drove me wild.

"I'd like to think you are as well," he said.

He smiled and sipped his wine. Not having anything else to do, I sipped mine as well.

"I love the way the cranberry tastes. It's like a tingle, and then an explosion in your mouth. I love that freakin' winery."

Once the spaghetti arrived, I grabbed my utensils and ate it the way I learned in etiquette training. Spinning the noodles on the spoon until they were completely twisted around the fork, and then taking small bites as not to splash the sauce on my face. Also, I didn't finish my meal, not because "a lady never finishes her plate," but rather, the hometown portions were much larger than I had remembered.

At times throughout the evening, I felt like a stranger to my own customs. As if I were a ship lost at sea, finally reaching my destination, but not recognizing it as I remembered. I had changed too much, too quickly.

Luke paid the bill, and the girl at the counter told me that Abbie was at the restaurant earlier that night. Shit, Abbie. I had completely forgotten to tell her I was home. I'd text her as soon as I got back to the house.

The headlights reflected from the stone white pavement leading up to the house. I drove slow and parked on the edge of the driveway. Luke opened his hand, and I gave him the keys.

As we walked up the steps to the porch, he followed close behind. Before I could get to the top, he pulled my hand to turn me around. My face was so close to his. His breath felt warm on my cheeks. Gently, he tucked my hair behind my ear and bit his bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

I led him up the steps and lifted myself onto the railing as he stood in front of me. My breathing increased, and pulse quickened. Luke leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, making sure not to press. We couldn't break the contract, but instead mildly walked the fine line that Finn had created for us. Instinctively, not caring, I trailed my hands up his shirt and lightly brushed my fingers across his stomach muscles. As his mouth found my neck and earlobe, I swallowed.

"I wish I would have met you before you signed that ridiculous contract," he said.

"You wouldn't have given me a chance if I weren't an Elite."

I lifted my chin toward him and looked into his eyes, full of hope, want, and… lust? He lightly trailed up my neck with his lips. With my eyes closed, I wanted nothing more than to be kissed by him, to feel his lips mingling with mine, fully tasting him. With every bit of strength I could muster without losing my balance, I pulled him closer to me and stood. Returning his nibbles and kisses, but making sure to leave our lips apart from one another.

"I want to kiss you so bad right now, it's driving me mad," he said.

"We can't," I said, defeated.

"I know."

I took his hand and led him up the stairs to my old bedroom. Before turning off the light, I unbuttoned each button on the black dress until it slid from my shoulders onto the floor. Dark blue bra and panties—a set that Finn had given to me when I first joined the ranks of The Elite—hugged to my body like a glove. Luke smiled and bit that sexy lip, that juicy delicious lip that I wanted to kiss me all over.

"It's your turn," I said. With his shirt in his index finger and thumb, he did a little twirling motion as if he were giving me my own personal strip tease. I laughed.

"Shh. They might hear us," he said.

Off went his polo, and then his white undershirt—nothing but abs and chest, and tattoos.

"Whoa. Stop right there, mister. You didn't say anything about these. What does that one say?"

A tattoo under his pectoral muscle read:

Don't go around

saying the world

owes you a living.

The world owes

you nothing.

It was here first.

–Mark Twain

He ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and I caught sight of the heart on the back of his arm, and the word "Loyalty" down his side in script, and the two-inch number thirteen set below his belly button on his right abdominal.

He caught me staring, admiring, all of his beautiful tattoos. Luketon Brand wasn't who I thought he was. That man didn't exist.

"Turn off the light, and come to bed. We have an early flight tomorrow. There is a little change of plans."

"We're leaving early?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But we can come back anytime you'd like."

I crawled in bed and rubbed my cold skin against his warmth. I looped my leg over his and trailed my fingers lightly over his stomach. His breaths were ragged and slow, and I knew that with every touch he told himself no. Luke grabbed my hands and interlaced his fingers with mine, and I tucked into his arms. Before I fell asleep, he pulled his arm away and set my head carefully on the pillow. In a whisper, he said, "One day, I will have to tell you what each one means. They are all very special to me."

He kissed my forehead before rolling over. As he turned, the moonlight allowed me to see the feather tattoo on his shoulder that crumbled away into birds.

Sixteen

The next morning, I woke up before the sun rose, stole the keys to the car, and grabbed the flowers from the vase on the table. I couldn't tell Luke I was going to the cemetery, and was surprised he didn't wake when I scooted from bed.

As I placed the car in park, the sun barely peeked over the river. The sky had bits of blue and pink sprinkled around, and wispy clouds that greeted me as if I were the only human alive watching the sun rise.

The grass, still wet with morning dew, crunched under my feet as I walked past the many headstones leading to my parent's graves. I refused to visit before I went to Vegas the first time. I wouldn't leave again without doing so.

The flowers looked nice in the grave vases. I should have been more prepared, but tried to push out the waves of guilt. Their pictures stared back at me from the headstone, both marked with the same death date, both next to one another. They would have wanted it that way, I thought. Neither one being able to go on without the other, they were too in love, even after all those years.

My father would have stolen the moon for my mother and delivered it with a bow if he could have, and vice versa. Love. The word seemed so foreign.

I knelt down in front of the headstones and looked up at the heavens. The clouds continued to move. The sun hung a little higher while the sky faded from pink to light blue. I stared for minutes without blinking, feeling nothing but blankness.

Would a person ever get over death?

Death.

It seemed so unfair to every living thing. But something I would have to accept. Everything died and became a part of the universe, and the stars. Eventually, we would all be dust and nothing that we did in life would matter.

I knelt down and picked at the grass that had barely started to grow. They had only been gone for a blink in time.

"I love you both so much. Every day that you aren't here, I feel like something is missing. I hope. I hope that if you can hear me that you know that I love you. Did you see the house? It's exactly how you always wanted it, down to the wall being removed from the living room to open up the space."

I laughed to swallow down the tears. I wouldn't cry. I couldn't cry. Crying was a sign of weakness, and I refused.

"You didn't warn me that it would be this hard. Sometimes I feel like I can't go on, and that I don't want to."

I took in a deep breath, trying not to lose it.

"I want you to be proud of me."

I stood, and dusted off my wet knees and touched the headstones before walking away.

Little, yellow butterflies fluttered in front of me as if it were a sign from my parents telling me they loved me. And if it wasn't, I would take it as if was anyway. On the way back, I stopped at Davis Donuts and picked up a few maple bacon donuts and kolaches. Mr. Davis, the owner, gave me a grin, wished me a safe trip back to Vegas, and refused to take my money. Typical.

I walked up the steps where Luke sat in a rocking chair drinking a cup of coffee.

"Good morning," I said.

"Morning, love," he said, and then glanced down at my wet, grass-stained knees. I handed him the bag, and forced him to eat the best damn bacon donut in Texas before we went upstairs for our bags.

On the way out the door, I hugged the Hanleys goodbye and thanked them for the beautiful job they did with the place. Once our luggage was packed in the trunk, Luke hopped in the car, waiting before starting it.

"Are you going to tell me where you really went this morning?"

"Will you tell me what the thirteen symbolizes?"

"Touché. I will tell you, but you first."

"I went to the cemetery."

"To?"

"Take care of some business that I've been putting off."

"It's the day I was born. March thirteenth."

"Will you tell me about the house we stayed in?"

"Tell me about the Mark Twain quote."

He smiled a devilish grin. "You are bound to find out more about them one way or another, aren't you?"

"I think it's a fair trade."

"My mother read a lot of Mark Twain to me when I was a kid. That quote symbolized every harsh thing that's happened to me in life while reminding me of her." He paused, and then continued. "The world owes me nothing. I'm nothing more than a small footprint. I know it seems that I've had things handed to me on a silver platter, but… it isn't true. I want you to know that."

"Wow. That's powerful. And I didn't. The longer I'm with you, the more I realize how much I don't know about you."

"I could say the same about you. So. Carry on. Tell me."

I sucked in a deep breath.

"I grew up in that house. The room we slept in, that was my old bedroom."

Luke didn't ask any more questions. He didn't need to, and I respected him for not prying.

"I didn't know, you know. I'd have never brought you here if I would have," he said.

"I know. Your intentions were where they needed to be. I get it. It's no big deal. But next time, I think I'd prefer a beach."

Laughter filled the car. Beaches, we both hated them.

"I want to bring you to London. Have you ever been there before?"

I shook my head.

"I want to walk through the streets of Paris with you, let you experience my tourist city since I've already enjoyed yours. We can watch the Eiffel tower light the night sky, and drink wine. I want to take you through the heart of historic areas. It isn't the same as the States, you know. It's almost magical. I want you to experience it all, the Seine River, the Notre Dame Cathedral, the things most only think exist in fairy tales."

"I'd like that."

Turbulence and terrible food fueled the flight. No amount of mini bottles of booze or Dramamine could help it, but I kept dreaming about Paris, and Luke, and the semi-secrets I shared with him on the way home. No one knew personal things about me in Vegas. Granted, he didn't know the whole story, but just enough to get him in trouble. A simple Google search would give my parents' deaths and me away. Nothing was private these days.

Once on the ground, fatigue and hunger blanketed my body. The weather was colder and different from Texas, and I wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a handful of aspirin. I felt like we time traveled from the airport to Felton's and to the moment that Luke escorted me to the front door. I waited for him to speak.

"Thank you for the wonderful time. It was nice being your boyfriend for the weekend. Send my regards to Julie."

He laughed and tried walking away.

"I don't think so. Not so quick." I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged. Then, I kissed him on the cheek and pulled away. "Thank you."

"I'm already planning Paris." His finger trailed the outside of my jaw and then he walked away. The Volvo zoomed down the driveway.

Once inside, I leaned against the door and closed my eyes, hoping my head would stop swimming. Too many emotions happened too quickly.

I dragged the suitcase up the stairs and changed into some running clothes. Breaking myself down physically usually helped clear my mind. My parents, the house, tattoos, Texas rendezvous, and the heart of Paris, I couldn't concentrate.

The weather was too nice for me to ignore the opportunity to release all the tension through my body. I pulled my hair into a tight ponytail, jogged down the stairs, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jesse asked as she sipped a cup of tea.

"Out for a jog. Gotta stay fit, you know. It's in the contract."

"Yes, we wouldn't want your ass any bigger than it already is."

"And I don't want a flabby granny ass like yours," I said and then mumbled "bitch" as I walked away.

I did a few quick stretches outside. The temperature had dropped, and the cool air stung as it entered my lungs, but the fresh dryness relaxed me.

Fall, finally.

The slow pace down the long drive would help me warm my muscles. I knew that it was a mile to the country road and a mile back so I would get in two miles, maybe four if I felt up to it.

My feet hit the pavement, but I stayed light on my toes. When I ran, I felt free, strong, and unstoppable.

My heart beat hard, and I picked up the pacing, almost to a full sprint. Air flowed in through my nose and out my mouth, and halfway to my checkpoint, I wished for a pair of gloves. Although my blood pumped fast, and my body felt warm, my fingers and toes stayed cold. But I continued forward.

At the end of the driveway, I checked my time, nine-minute mile, not bad, but not my best. Warm-up lap. I tapped the gate with my fingertips and then took off again. I pushed harder, and faster, with hopes to beat my personal best. The wind carried me to the house as it flowed with me instead of against. I ran to the front steps and tapped the front door, eight minutes and twenty-nine seconds.

"Yes. In your face," I said to myself between breaths that I could almost see.

"What's in my face?" Finnley stood in a pair of running pants and matching windbreaker.

"I cut my time down. Just celebrating."

"Congratulations. Want another go?"

I clicked my heart rate monitor and took off running.

Eat my dust, suckaaaa.

I pushed myself harder than I did the last run. The newfound pace was above my comfort level, but I refused to slow down and dug deep inside. My fingers grazed the gate at the end. The normal break I usually took was skipped when Finn kept running.

"Hey! Don't cheat," I yelled at him and then forced myself to run at his speed.

"Haven't you learned yet?" His breathing was heavy and sexy as he spoke between breaths. I tried not to ball my fists and concentrated on relaxing my body, and moving as a well-oiled machine.

"It's all about pacing, Ms. Downs."

I laughed as I tried to sprint ahead of him, but he was faster, stronger. Neck and neck, we ran beside one another until he left me in his tracks. He stood with his shoulder against the wooden door as I sprinted to catch up.

"I will outrun you any day," he said.

I checked my watch: thirteen minutes.

"Woohoo! Two miles. At seven and a half minutes. That's the fastest I've—"

"Go again?"

"Nope. I'm done. I've beaten my personal record."

Sweat dripped into my eyes, and burned, but I wiped it away.

"Come on, have another go. I'll slow down to your level if you'd like."

The smirk that spread across his face drew out the competitive side in me. I exhaled, but gave in to the challenge. But this time, I didn't race; I took it slow and steady as he instructed. From my peripheral, I could see his body flexing with each movement. His hair, messy and flat from sweat, was tucked behind his ears.

Pure sex.

"How long have you been running?" I asked.

"Since Uni. I ran on the varsity team."

"No wonder I'll never beat you. You're body has been trained. Not fair."

"Very good. I pick up the pace, and you follow. Not the first time I've guided you."

The thoughts of Finn touching my body and speeding up and then slowing down, gave me a bolt of adrenaline. I took the shot with pleasure and doubled my speed. Second wind, just what I needed.

As I ran past him, I thought I heard him chuckle. And as he passed me, I knew why. It was cute that I really thought I could beat him. I tapped the front door and checked my time: twelve minutes and fifty-six seconds. I actually squealed in excitement over my new record. Sweat dripped from my face onto my shirt, but I didn't care. I wasn't that kind of girl.

"I've never been that fast," I said.

"It seems as if I bring out the best in you." His raised eyebrow was such a simple seductive act that begged and drew me closer as he leaned on the doorframe.

"Maybe you do," I whispered.

He opened his arms, and I hesitated. I couldn't allow him to hold me. As I walked closer, he grabbed me and pulled me into him. Warmth flooded me and I wanted to stand there forever, but I had to jerk away. Get away from him before he smothered me in his scent, the one that melted my emotions so easily.

Click. Click.

The door swung open, and Finn fell backward pulling me with him. Jesse stood over us as we lay on top of one another on the cold marble floor.

"Your timing is incredible," Finn said directly to Jesse.

She tightened her fists, and her nostrils flared.

"The final bids are in, thought you'd be happy to know the outcome," she said dryly.

I stared into Finn's greens, and his didn't leave mine. We were stuck in a moment together, and neither one of us wanted to break free. He apologized with his gaze as he helped me from the floor. My body ached for him and his touch, but I withdrew.

Jesse handed over the golden envelope, and he took it without any emotion.

It was really happening. I would give myself to someone, someone who wasn't Finnley Felton.

The destiny of my virginity rested in his hands.

Who would be the lucky bidder?

He opened the envelope and pulled out the golden letter.

"Of fucking course," he whispered as he handed it over for me to read for myself.

LUKETON BRAND

The words should have shocked me, surprised me in some way, but I knew better. I knew Luke, or at least thought I did. The smile that wanted to form on my lips vanished as Finn walked up the stairs and slammed his door. Jesse gave me her typical, "are you fucking happy now" look and a smirk. I turned and went upstairs, making sure to slam my door just as loud.

Knock. Knock.

"Hey, Jen." Lori stood on the other side of the door.

"Come in."

She greeted me with a smile and sat beside me on the edge of the bed.

"Did you hear what happened while you were gone?"

I shook my head.

"Jesse is pissed at you and wants you fired. Felton and her got into a huge argument over it, and he called her a bitch and left. He didn't return until you came back."

"I… I had no idea."

"You should watch out, Jen. Seriously. Felton has never treated any of his girls the way he treats you. He's always been all business. If you get in too deep with him, Jesse will fire you. She has the legal right, and boy is she pissed. Oh my god. You should have heard her screaming at him. I've never heard her use that tone. Everyone was home, too. It reminded me of my parents before they got a divorce."

"Why is she so upset?"

Lori looked at me, dumbfounded.

"Wait. You don't know?"

I shook my head.

"Jen. She has been in love with Felton for years. Since she became his right hand woman."

"That's against the rules," I protested.

"One must first admit he or she is in love and then act upon it," Lori said as if she were reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.

"Have you seen the way she looks at him? It's kind of the way he looks at you," she said.

I had no words. I never noticed the way she looked at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Jennifer. He looks at you like you are, like… you're the sunrise in the morning. The light of his day that greets him from the darkness."

"Always so poetic."

"Just watch out, okay?" She stood and hugged me. "And please try to have fun when you have sex for the first time."

"Okay."

"Promise me."

"I promise. Hey, Lori?"

"Yeah?"

"Will it hurt? You know, when I finally do it."

"You'll be fine. I think you'll enjoy it, you little sex kitten. You're ready."

She winked at me and gave a tight squeezed hug. When Lori left the room, she left me with a mind full of questions.

I pushed open the window and let the cool night air kiss my skin.

Greets him from the darkness… Her words echoed in my mind.

Seventeen

The next morning I woke to curtains being ripped open and sunlight being forced in.

"Time to get up." Finn seemed aggravated.

I rustled in bed, throwing my arm over my face. He ripped the covers from me, and I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster.

"You are so annoying," I mumbled.

"Stand up."

I did what I was told, but didn't want to.

"What will we do today, sir?" I asked so calmly, so sweetly that he almost smiled, but didn't.

"Don't call me that anymore."

"Yes, sir." I batted my eyes in his direction. He lightly grumbled, and I saw his body slightly loosened.

"You will be going shopping today. Luketon agreed that Friday would be perfect for him. He has a big night planned for you, and you need to be ready."

I moved closer to Finn, not taking my eyes from his. Once closer, I rubbed my hands down his arms and ran my lips across the outside of his.

"Stop that. Do you think you can just wake up one morning and do whatever the fuck you want?"

With force, he grabbed my wrists and lifted my hands above my head then slammed me against the wall. My breathing increased as he parted my legs. With light nibbles up my neck, he kept my arms tight above my head and whispered in my ear. "I told you not to call me 'sir' anymore. So don't fucking do it again."

He slammed my wrists against the wall, taking his anger out on me.

"You have to listen to me, Jennifer."

He stressed between gritted teeth. His breathing increased as did mine.

"What will you do to me if I don't, sir?"

"You don't know how to fucking listen, do you?"

Finn bit his bottom lip, and tightened his grip on my wrists as he held my arms up with one hand. With the other, he ran his fingers through my hair and then popped the buttons from my shirt and ripped my panties off my body. The slight pain felt good. He parted my legs wider, and I leaned my head against the wall.

"Can I tell you what I want you to do to me, sir?" Each time I said it, he tightened his grasp. I could feel his hardness against my body, and I knew he wanted me, and that alone gave me great satisfaction. To know that I was in control and that he still wanted me, sexually. I didn't struggle, I wanted him to take me, and if he wouldn't, I would drive him just as crazy as he drove me. Payback was a bitch.

With two fingers, he ran his hand between my legs and felt the wetness.

"Mmm. You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Only if you want me to, sir."

My eyes rolled in the back of my head as he touched my magic button. I tried to hold back a moan, but couldn't.

"Do you want me to like it, sir?" I whispered as I traced the bottom of his ear with my lips.

He continued to pin my arms as he loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. Muscles. The shirt dropped to the floor.

"I do," he said, and released my arms.

He undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His hardness wanted me just as I wanted him. As I reached to unzip his pants, he grabbed my wrists and slammed them above my head again.

"No. No. Luketon wouldn't like if his virgin no longer had a cherry for him to pop. And if you start this, I can't guarantee I would fucking stop."

I laughed.

"Not you. You would never lose control, sir."

My words were soft, sensual, pure sex.

"You must not know me very well. Not very well at all."

Then his lips crashed into mine and our tongues wrestled with one another. Aggressive lips kissed me with such intensity; I barely caught my breath. He broke away, his pants fell to the floor and he stood in front of me in only boxers. I grabbed the bottom of his lip with my mouth and our lips mingled with one another again. Kisses. Kisses I so desperately wanted and needed. Forbidden kisses that could get me fired quicker than a heartbeat.

Finn slid his thumbs under the elastic band of his boxers. I leaned back, smiled, and waited to see him naked for the first time, hoping that I finally would get to feel him inside me.

"Oh, Jennifer. I've…" Finn hesitated.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Jesse stood in the doorway.

"Fucking hell," Finnley said coldly as he pulled up his pants and adjusted his belt.

"Get dressed, Jennifer. We have to prepare you for Friday," Jesse said, and then glanced at Finnley. He was the only reason I didn't get my ass chewed up and spit out.

Our eyes met, and I could feel the raw lust pulling us together like a magnet, hoping we finally would snap together. He clenched his jaw and stormed from the room. Jesse gave me a "you're a dirty little whore, and you're fired" look simultaneously with pursed lips. I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand and went to Finn. The unfinished sentence that he started would haunt me for the rest of the day.

"That can never fucking happen again," Jesse yelled in the kitchen. "Never. Now I have to bring her fucking shopping when I should be firing her ass!"

I walked into the room and saw Finn leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. Paisley stood beside him. Once we made eye contact, he left without a word. Fucking fantastic.

"Ready?" Jesse asked with a vengeance in her voice.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I said, not adding "which is never" to the end of my phrase.

"Luketon has something extremely special planned for you. Our goal is to find a few things that will fit the occasion. New wardrobe, lingerie, haircut, waxing—the whole nine yards. I know how much you love to shop for lingerie," Paisley said to me.

Jesse snatched a set of keys from the counter along with her purse. Once outside, I saw V zooming away. Finn had left like a bat out of hell. I sighed and let regret flood over me. Admittedly, I shouldn't have brought it to that level. I should have stopped while I was ahead. But I couldn't. Deep inside I needed to know how he felt. I didn't give two shits about anything else.

I didn't say a word as I climbed into the passenger seat.

Jesse sighed loudly, wanting to say something to me, daring me to say something to her. Instead, I stared out the window and watched the people in the passing cars.

"Jennifer. Don't you ever put Finnley in that situation again. I fucking swear if you do, I will have your ass shipped back to Texas so fast that you won't know what fucking hit you."

Jesse pulled the car to the side of the road and grabbed the bottom of my face, forcing me to look at her.

"You think you're so smart. That I don't see through your little sweet, innocent virgin game? Just know that if Luketon hadn't paid what he did for you, I would've fired you on the spot weeks ago. Consider this your warning. If you and Finn 'just happen' again, you're fucking gone."

She didn't have to say anything else, and I had nothing to add. Another moment passed, and Jesse released the stronghold on my face. Rage flared inside of me, and I swallowed angry tears back. I wouldn't give her joy of knowing how pissed I was.

Back on the road, back toward the city, and I was back on track to fulfill all Luketon's sexual desires. I always imagined my first time with a man would be with someone I loved and respected. Someone who would make love to me until the sun rose. Someone who would hold me in his arms and tell me how beautiful I was. But the first time I had sex, it would be for money. How cheap did that make me?

We pulled into Ester's, and I unbuckled, but hesitated before opening the door. Who the fuck did Jesse think she was? Enough was enough. I turned and looked at her with so much hate and anger that I thought I saw her shudder.

"If you ever touch me like that again, you'll wish you wouldn't have. Consider that your warning, bitch," I said. The shock and anger that covered her face warmed my little angry heart. I gently shut the door and heard the slamming of hers.

The bell above the door rang and the smell of incense filled Ester's.

"Hey, Jennifer. It's nice to see you again. Can I help you with something?"

"Yep, big night on Friday. I need something extra sexy and extra special."

Belinda walked over to a smoky gray corset with cream lace lined through the sides.

"It arrived yesterday, and if I remember correctly, it's your size. It was a special gift from a European designer and sent straight to the store. A nice little surprise, I thought."

She handed it to me with a smile and pointed toward the dressing room. "Let me know if you need any help," she said.

The detailing and thread, which was also cream-colored, looked hand sewn. Whoever made this took pride in their work, and if it fit, I would take pride in wearing it. I removed my clothes and couldn't wait to feel the soft silk and lace on my body. Like the glass slipper in Cinderella, every piece of the wonderfully handcrafted lingerie fit perfectly. I laced up back as tight as I could, and smiled.

"How's it going in there, honey?" I heard her say from the front counter.

"You have to see this, Belinda. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever worn."

I lifted my hair above my neck and checked out my backside as footsteps travel down the hallway. She would be so thrilled to see how well it fit. The doorknob jiggled, and I unlocked it.

"See how well it fits my hips?" I dropped my hair and focused on jade green eyes.

Finn.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said.

I swallowed. I opened my mouth and closed it.

"Glad to know I can handpick lingerie for you."

He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. Our lips slammed into one another with so much force and passion, and we couldn't get enough of one another. Want and need, and desire mixed inside of our mouths, we fought a battle neither one of us would ever win. He pushed me against the wall, and I moaned his name.

"Finn."

His forehead touched mine, and he placed one finger over my lips.

"Shh."

I opened mouth and began sucking his lip, wishing it were him. With gentle hands, he ran his fingers across my face and through my hair. Soft lips kissed my neck, my mouth, and the tops of my breasts, causing little chill bumps to cover my body. My heart fluttered with excitement.

"Each time I think of you with Luketon, it kills a small piece of me." He nibbled on my ear. "I can't stand the thought of you lying in bed with him. You giving that piece of yourself that should belong to me… that piece of you that I've wanted since the first time I laid eyes on you."

I ran my hands up his shirt and brushed them across his skin. He continued to whisper. "You drive me crazy. Your hair. Your smell. Your innocence."

I needed to talk. To tell him how I felt, but each time, he would stop and kiss my mouth.

"Don't say a word," he said, breathlessly.

"I've never loved another person since… I don't know how. But I know that loving you would be easy," he said, giving me more of his all-encapsulating kisses.

This is it, I thought. The moment where he would tell me how he truly feels. Where we would speak all of the unspoken words we exchanged with our bodies. I waited for him to tell me everything I wanted to hear.

"But we can't keep doing this, Jennifer."

And as if someone punched me in the throat, he pulled away and shut me off instantaneously. Before I completely lost Finnley, I begged, pulling the hem of his shirt for him to come closer.

"Please," I somehow managed to choke out.

One last time, he grabbed the bottom of my chin, and kissed me so soft, so sweet, so sensually that I almost melted into him completely.

"We can't do this ever again, Jennifer. This has to stop now before we're in too deep. Before we do something that we both regret."

He turned and walked to the door, but stopped before leaving.

"I would never regret any moments I share with you," I said.

Crossing his arms, Finn leaned against the door, taking one last look as if he would never see me this way again.

"Luketon will love seeing you in that."

He leaned over, pressed his lips against my cheek, and then he was gone.

The jingle of the bell rang down the hall, letting the whole building know that he had left. Deflated, completely and utterly empty, I sat on the floor and tried not to let my emotions take over. Eventually, I would break down. But it wouldn't be today.

The realization hit that maybe I was weak after all, weak for Finnley Felton.

Eighteen

I stood and slowly untied the delicate lace.

Like a robot, I slipped on my clothes and marched to the front of the store.

Is this what heartbreak felt like? Is this what the sad songs sung about?

What the hell did I think would happen between us, anyway? I'm nothing more than protocol. Something pretty to look at like a glass ornament or a trinket.

Belinda placed the lingerie in a pretty little box and tied it with a bow; rapport, she had it.

"I'll charge it to the account, honey."

Finn's account.

Funny how he special ordered it just for me, and showed up to tell me that very thing. Just another dose of mind-fuckery and Finnley games before I would wear this to bed for another man. The lingerie was nothing more than a fucked up reminder that Finn owned me, that no matter what, no matter who took my virginity, I would always be his property.

Outside of the storefront, Jesse leisurely sat on a bench and smoked a cigarette. When she saw me, she smudged it on the cement and blew out the rest of the smoke. An Elite wasn't supposed to smoke. Bitch broke her own rules.

"I assume you found what you needed."

"I did, actually."

I tried not to sound like a bitch, but it was a little harder than I thought. My mood and emotions already had too many vicissitudes, and it was barely lunchtime. I wanted a do-over of this day, but that wasn't an option. Next stop, the fucking dress shop, Cynthia's.

Cynthia's always intimidated me. Only upper class women shopped in stores where dresses were tailored to their body shape. We had nothing like this at home.

Jesse, always the businesswoman, leader of the Girls, spoke with the woman in quiet whispers.

"Oh, really? I have just the gown for the occasion."

From the back closet, Sophia, the snobbish dress tailor, pulled a midnight blue, semi-sequined A-lined dress from the closet.

"For twenty-five percent of the cost, I can have it ready by this afternoon at five."

"That works for us."

Sophia guided me toward the dressing room with the gown in tow. The sleeves fell on my shoulders and insinuated my collarbone. Give me a set of big glasses and an up-do, and I would be a replica of Audrey Hepburn.

I walked barefoot into the room and stood upon the pedestal. From the corner of the room, oohs and ahhs echoed from the surrounding women admiring the dress. I tried to ignore them.

"You'll clean up real nice. Just a set of pearls, a pair of nice heels, and you'll be set to attend the party."

"Party?"

"Shit. You weren't supposed to know yet." Jesse glared at Sophia, who didn't and wouldn't apologize for the slip up. Looks like she met her match.

"What party?" I asked.

"That shouldn't be your concern at the moment," Jesse said.

With a tug, Sophia tightened the waist on the dress, straightened the collar where a modest amount of breast showed, and hemmed the skirt to calf-length. The dark blue dress screamed elegant while my mind screamed dirty whore. Images of Finnley tying me to the bed and licking my body in naughty places overtook my mind. I wanted to give him the best fuck of his life until we both lay breathless in each other's arms. Although I was a virgin, I knew what I wanted. My body begged to be touched, and the thought of Finn fucking me made me wet.

"Does that sound okay?" Jesse stared at me.

"What's that?"

"Letting Sophia pick out your shoes."

"It's whatever. Size eight."

I went into the dressing room, lifted the dress over my head, and placed it on the hanger. My panties were wet with thoughts of Finn, but my body was deflated.

With a smirk, I placed two fingers down my panties. My nipples hardened as I touched myself. I removed my bra and panties and took a good look at myself in the mirror. Horny girl. But I need this. With my thumb and index finger, I pinched my nipples and felt small jolts of electricity rush through my body. Was I really going to do this in the most stuck up place in Vegas? Fuck it.

I leaned up against the wall and parted my legs. I wanted the satisfaction of watching myself in the mirror. Being able to see my body, to see the pinkness between my open legs, turned me on. I opened my legs further and rubbed my fingers up and down, teasing myself. I moved two fingers around, just as Finn taught me. My clit hardened, and my breathing increased. The sweet build inside of me began. Oh, it was happening so quickly this time.

Trying to savor the moment, I moved my hands up and down my breasts and even dipped the edge of one finger inside, but only enough to make me quake with want and desire. I closed my eyes and imagined Finn watching me pleasure myself as he stroked his hardness. Finn. I didn't even know I was whispering his name as I touched myself. My body begged for it, pleading for me to give it more. More fantasies of Finn fucking me on the kitchen counter, on the table, in the pool, followed. Finn. And then the rush of emotions overcame me. I moaned as my body exploded with sweet release and I felt the powerful clinch down below. Not wanting the orgasm to end, I slowly continued to touch myself until the sensitivity was too much for me to handle. I sucked in a deep breath and my heartbeat raced. For the rest of the day, this virgin would be useless. But at least the sexual frustration had vanished.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Hurry up." Jesse stood on the other side of the door. I could see her heels from under the crack in the door.

"Getting dressed, be right out."

Jesse stormed away, and I rushed to dress into my clothes. I snatched the hanger with the soon-to-be altered dress and headed toward Sophia. With a look of disapproval, she jerked the dress from my hand. She knew. They all knew. But quite frankly, I didn't give a shit.

She led me to the counter, leaned over, and quietly whispered, "We aren't idiots, you know?"

I leaned over and whispered back, "Maybe if you had an orgasm every once in a while, you all wouldn't be so uptight."

Then in a full voice, I said, "Call me if you need some masturbation pointers." Sophia fumed as I left the building.

Although my body relaxed, my nerves were on the edge. Friday night, I would no longer be a virgin, and it no longer would be a big deal. I could move on with my life and have sex with whomever. No more bid wars, no more jealousy, no more virgin, and for the first time, I was truly okay with that.

The car seemed like a good place to get away, close my eyes, and run through my day so far. Jesse stormed behind me, not saying a word.

The rest of the day flew by. My legs felt silky smooth, and so did everything else. Once my hair was trimmed, eyebrows shaped, and body massaged, I just wanted to take a nap. The mimosas didn't help. Jesse left me at the spa alone, and I couldn't help but think about Friday.

Would I feel any different?

Would I no longer be special to Finn, Luke, and to the other Elite who wanted me? Did it even matter in the realm of things?

I lounged in the waiting area, and then dressed.

My life would change.

There was no doubt about that.

I sucked in a deep breath and made my way inside the house. V sat in the driveway, so I knew Finn was home. After the shit he pulled today, and after the mess he left me in, my feelings were broken. Hurt because he validated what I knew. We would never be anything more than what we were: coworkers.

But did I want more?

Or was it just an addicting game that I had to win?

My feelings were in braids, and I didn't know which strand I wanted as I tried to undo them.

Before I opened the door, I secretly hoped he wouldn't be within sight. My hands were full of the midnight blue dress, lingerie, and three-inch heels Sophia picked out for me. I just wanted to go upstairs.

As I walked in, Finn sat at the table with a crossword puzzle. My breath hitched as I looked at him. But I forced it away, trying not to give him another glance, and climbed the stairs two at a time. Refusing to turn around, I went to my room and lightly swung open the door. Everything that was in my hands fell to the floor and I leaned against the door with my eyes closed.

On the bed, there was a black envelope and a small box. I didn't want to read it, but curiosity killed me. Giving in begrudgingly, I peeled open the envelope and pulled out the soft paper.

Wear this on Friday.

-F

I lifted the lid on the box and moved the white tissue paper aside. A black mask with silver feathers and embroidered doves lay in the bottom of the box. The dress, the shoes, the mask… I would attend a masquerade ball. Everyone kept the secret from me, and Finnley made sure to have his Girl prepared. The mask matched the lining of the dress and the lingerie perfectly, and somehow I knew he had handpicked each piece.

I placed the mask back in its box and the rest of the virginity-losing-gear in the closet.

Nineteen

Days and nights passed, and Finn avoided me like the plague until Friday came. I hadn't heard from Luke in days, and Lori was away on business.

Loneliness lingered and left me to my thoughts. Not random ones, but terrible thoughts of my parent's death. I tried to busy myself in books and fantasy worlds, and the fictional people helped take me away. Mr. Darcy and others filled my waking and sleeping moments. Each day seemed to be a repeat of the one before until Fucking Friday arrived.

Fucking Friday, I had termed it, was the day that I would have sexy time. I joked about watching porn, but without anyone to talk to, I almost wanted to have a porn-a-thon to get some sort of idea. I would call Abbie, but the bitchy text from her threatening to punch me in the throat the next time she saw me because I didn't call or see her while I was home kept me silent.

After I showered, I looked in the mirror and studied each part of my naked body, wondering if I would feel different the day afterward, or if all would be the same. I would lose my virginity. Would I enjoy the first time? Would it hurt? Would Luke use whips or chains, or would he be sweet and careful with me? I didn't know the answer because I felt like there were things about him I didn't know.

Hours passed, and I fidgeted with my hair and makeup until I felt pretty. Barrel curls, smoky gray eye shadow, and deep red lipstick matched the attire and my mood. I wanted to be scandalous and sexy, and once I slipped into the lingerie, I did.

I placed the mask on my face. It fit like it were designed for me alone, just as everything else had, because it was.

A smile crept across my face, and a tinge of excitement traveled through me. If it wouldn't have been a social event, I would have gone in the sexy undergarments and a long coat. Imagining how Luke would lust over me made me feel powerful.

Always ever so punctual, I arrived downstairs early and waited for Charlie. I peeked out the window and saw V on the circle drive. My nerves went haywire when I thought about the box with the little ribbon, the lingerie, and how I hadn't spoken to him in days. Not since the day he walked away. I closed my eyes and hoped he wouldn't see me before I met Luke. I didn't need him to drive a deadly spear into my happiness.

Lady Luck was on my side this time. I escaped without seeing Finn, but the silence that lingered in the limo gave me too much time to think and overanalyze his actions.

Exotic cars lined the circle drive. Chatter and music drifted from the house. To my right sat the black and silver mask. As we slowed, I adjusted it over my face and took a deep breath. Tonight was the night.

A man wearing stark white gloves and a penguin-flapped suit escorted me to the entrance where a woman handed me a crystal flute of champagne. Resist, I did not.

I glided through the crowd like a ghost in a graveyard, searching for Luke. Pretty girls accompanied handsome men. Fancy shoes and dresses combined with evening hair, and elegant masks of all different shapes and sizes. Some wore full masks; others wore those that only covered half their faces.

I entered the living area where a staircase rose up the middle. The second floor looked over the crowd below. Soft music followed by laughter surrounded the business talk, but Luke was nonexistent.

I finished my champagne and replaced it with another. Fresh strawberries floated in the top of my glass and the sweetness filled my mouth, making my taste buds explode with the delicious flavor. Curious, I took the stairs to the upper floor and smiled as I passed familiar, but unknown faces.

He had done well with decorating the place. At the top of the winding stairs hung a perfect rendition of Van Gogh's Starry Night. The detail in the brush strokes and the preciseness it took to get it just right amazed me.

I continued to sip my strawberry champagne, and walked further down the halls, appreciating each painting. At the end of the hall, a picture hung that I had experienced in real life. The painting portrayed Luke and I at the park the first night we met. The moon held the craters, and glow of the real one, but the stars shone brighter. In the painting, Luke smiled at… me. My eyes were looking toward the ground, and I laughed. Every characteristic and detail represented my innocence in the simplest form. Innocence I felt I had lost somewhere in the mix.

"Do you like it?"

Startling me from my gaze, I gulped and turned. Luke.

"I love it. But the detail… it's amazing."

"I painted what I remembered of the first night we spent together. I named this one Something New. The others I've painted have been abstract, copies, or simple illustrations, and I treasure them. But this, this is a memory that will be forever burned into my mind," Luke said.

"You painted this?"

The more I learned, the more I realized I was out of my league. His baby blues shined behind his navy mask. They sparkled like the diamonds he had painted in the sky. He smiled, nodded, and continued to walk down the hallway, describing each painting. I lusted over the colors and shading. Each one held a memory, they weren't just art. They were experiences on canvas.

"I'm happy you're here. I halfway thought you wouldn't show."

"Luke," I whispered and squeezed his hand, "I wouldn't miss this for the world. I'm happy to be here."

He placed his arm around my shoulder and gently brushed the outside of my arm. He stopped at the end of the hallway and faced me.

"I've got a few more things to take care of downstairs. I'll see you at midnight, right?"

I cocked my head. "You know you will."

With warm lips, Luke kissed my cheek and gently brushed his hand on the back of my neck. I watched him as he walked away; then turned and smiled before he headed down the stairs. Damn, that man could wear a suit. Every bit hugged him in the right places.

Being nosey, I opened a few doors and entered one. Inside, I was amazed to see canvas, paint, and white drapes on the floor. This is where his magic happened. It smelled like creativity.

Unfinished paintings leaned against the walls, sketches of people, places, and things. I took my time and walked around the room, soaking in each unfinished canvas, a memory he didn't want to forget. With each painting, each secret, I learned more about Luke. The things that made him tick. The memories he kept hidden away in his art. The man that looks at me like I could save the world. The man that paid a million dollars to make sure my virginity wasn't wasted on a scumbag who only wanted to come. Luke.

He wanted to make it meaningful, personal just for me. And he would.

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck 11:30 p.m. I stepped onto the balcony to grab some fresh air where I would wait until it was time to meet downstairs. The moonlight barely peeked through the trees as the cool air kissed my skin. My mind created snippets and fantasies of Luke and how gentle he would be with me tonight.

By his paintings, I could tell Luke craved my innocence, but deep down inside I was a sexual deviant who craved satisfaction. I wanted to be tied up, my hair be pulled, with a combination of soft and hard. Then I wanted to be fucked into sweet oblivion and sleep on cloud nine. The lust of being dominated burned inside of me. I needed it, and I know that if I begged Luke for it, he'd give it to me, just like I wanted. Wouldn't he? Could he?

Would he be my sir?

Did the tattooed gentleman really have it in him?

The whole nice guy approach, while sweet and simple, somewhat turned me off. I wanted to know that he could be strong. Luke had secrets, and I wanted to unravel and divulge in knowing him while he learned me from the inside out.

As I stood on the balcony, a part of me went to the memory of Finn unlocking the door and teasing me at Esther's. That man left me with nothing more than a pocket full of resentment for the countless times he brought me to the limit, restricted me, and made my body feel numb with desire. I leaned against the railing and looked up at the man in the moon, hoping he could answer my questions and help me forget about Finnely Felton.

The balcony door clicked, and before I could turn around, a body was behind me. I closed my eyes with satisfaction. Luke. He came back for me.

"We're going to play a game," a deep whisper said from behind me.

"Don't turn around."

"A game?"

Interest peaked inside of me, and down below.

A tie flapped over my neck and then made its way over my mask, covering my eyes.

Blindfolded? I liked where this was going.

"Luke, I…" A hand clamped over my mouth, and I got the hint quick, no talking.

Fingers trailed over the tops of my breasts and found themselves on my waist. He rubbed himself on my ass in slow, fluid movements as his hands memorized each piece of my body. Not too fast, or too slow, taking in every part of me. Lips kissed my neck and found their way to the bottom of my ears. He sucked and then licked down my neck. I moaned with pleasure, and he repeated the nibbles and kisses on the other side. Each touch turned me on, and I craved more. I grabbed the back of his neck with both arms and tried to turn around, but he yanked my wrists and placed them on the railing.

No touching. Noted.

I stood perfectly still, waiting, desiring the next touch. One by one, he unbuttoned the petite buttons all the way down my dress until it was fully open. The cold draft and soft touch produced mountainous goose bumps. Gentle hands tucked under my bra and grasped my breasts. I heard him moan slightly.

Knowing I turned him on turned me on.

He pushed the dress over my shoulders, slid it down my arms until it landed on the balcony floor with a poof.

The soft cotton silk blend and gauze lay around my feet. He pulled the dress from under me and threw it to the side. Minutes passed, and I heard him stifle a moan as he took in every bit of my body, kissing up and down my legs and my stomach. Although blindfolded, I could imagine the look on his face as he studied me, kissed me, pleasured me. I opened my mouth to whisper his name, and as I did, lips and tongue, and lust met mine.

"We aren't supposed to kiss, remember," I whispered.

A finger pressed against my lips.

Don't ask, don't tell, I supposed.

I wanted to grab him and pull him toward me, and feel his lips pressed so seductively on mine, but I resisted and interlocked my fingers behind me. I would be a good girl. I would listen and please him. More aggressively, he kissed my mouth, just what I wanted—needed. Hard, rough lips pushed into mine, almost painful. But I sunk into him and returned the kisses with the same overpowering intensity like he had been waiting to kiss me for centuries. This is what I wanted, what I needed, what I desired the most.

Kisses that Finnley couldn't give me, but what Luke was so willing to do.

A gentleman in public—who openly could be seen with me—but a freak in the bed, unclothed. Luke proved to be a man that could command me and drive me wild with his rough, pleasurable kisses.

He pulled away and continued to trail his lips down my neck, licking my bare breasts and stomach. Every time he touched me, my arousal peaked. Any more and I might have taken him right there. Way to turn a virgin on, I thought.

He forcefully leaned me against the railing, dropped to his knees, and peeled off my little panties, the ones Finn had picked out for me. I tried to forget about Finn and lose myself with Luke. The boards from the balcony pushed into my back, but I wouldn't complain. Only obey. Take pleasure in pain and fully give myself to his every command.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, I felt tongue and kisses on my thighs and then sucking and swirling on my sex. I grasped the railing of the balcony with tight fingers and hummed with satisfaction. One hand trailed up my body and pinched and pulled on my nipple as he continued to push me to the brink.

Ohhhh.

I tried to be quiet, but I couldn't help but be vocal. No one had explored me that close down below, and he had to know how good he was making me feel. How wet and turned on I was for him. He knew when he dipped the edge of his tongue inside me and licked my sweetness away. His moan, deep and animalistic, made me want to be fucked, right then and there.

His tongue flicked and played with me, and I almost lost my balance. He slightly chuckled as he moved his tongue deeper and faster against me. The sweet rhythm of his mouth brought me to a level of no return. As if he could taste the build, he slowed his pace until I almost begged for release. Teasing every moment, he pulled away and kissed and licked my thighs, and then slightly dipped his tongue in my entry.

And then it happened.

As the orgasm pulsed through me, he continued to lick and flick until the orgasmic waves relinquished.

But he wasn't finished yet.

His mouth found my sex again. He sucked every drop of me, and then began his wild motions again. I moaned as my legs shook and when the next orgasm completely overtook my body, I went weak in the knees. Weak for him.

As it flowed through me, I grabbed the railing, hoping not to fall as I moaned and whispered his name.

"Oh, Luke. Luketon Brand. I want you to fuck me."

Sweet fucking relief.

More kisses trailed up my body, another flick of my raging hard nipples, and the urge to pleasure him ran through me.

He knew how to pleasure a woman, how to make her beg for more, and I was ready to drop to my knees.

The nagging thoughts of Luke not being what I wanted vanished. He could mold me to be whatever he wanted me to be.

Light, sensual lips found mine, and I could taste my sweetness on him. I bit his bottom lip and sucked on it. As I leaned in, I could feel his hardness against my leg, and as I reached for him, he moved my hands beside me and turned me around.

Zippppp.

He unzipped his pants and pushed his hard dick between my legs, but not inside of me. My body clenched with want.

He wanted me. I wanted him.

He paid a million for me. Why not take me right now?

As he stood there with his cock between my legs, he slightly rocked his hips back and forth between the folds of me. My juices covering his dick that slid so eagerly between my lips, so close to being inside of me. With one slip, he could take my virginity, and it all would be over. The climax and teasing of it all drove me insane.

"Fuck me," I whispered and lifted my ass in the air. With a strong hand, he slapped it and then trailed his hands up my back only teasing me.

"Please, take me right now. I want you to," I begged.

Another soft slap hit my ass and then he put himself away. He turned me around and kissed me on the lips one last time. I poured myself into it, wanting him to feel what I felt, wanting him to know that I wanted him right then, wishing he would just give me what we both wanted, but he pulled away. Within seconds, I heard the clicking of the balcony door and I knew I was alone. I had come, twice, and Luke had gone.

I undid the tie and quickly got dressed. My hair was rustled, and without even looking at myself, I knew that I wore the just been fucked look and I'd have to go downstairs and mingle with strangers.

The clock dinged, and I knew it was midnight.

I searched the balcony and couldn't find my panties. Oh well.

All I wanted to do was find Luke's room, lay in his bed naked, and wait to give him the same sweet orgasmic pleasure that I received.

Tonight, I wanted to lose my virginity.

Twenty

My eyes adjusted to the darkness, so the bright lights beaming from the chandeliers almost blinded me. I fixed the mask on my face and tried to pin my hair how I had done it earlier, but it didn't work. A simple messy side swoop would have to work. Or how Jesse put it, J.B.F hair.

Flushed and fully satisfied, I could feel wetness between my legs. I smiled as I replayed the events and squeezed my thighs together. Luke surprised me.

I didn't know he had it in him or that I really wanted him in me. I wanted him to fuck me until the sun came up, or until we both came, twice.

Slowly climbing down the stairs, trying not to lose my balance, I looked down and saw the room full of guests staring at me.

Holy fuck.

My social anxiety kicked into overdrive, and all I could do was smile nervously at the crowd.

Luke pulled me close to him, and told everyone, "This is the girl who inspired this painting. I owe its beauty to her."

I looked over and saw a large painting of a woman sitting on the railing with her head tilted against the wooden beam, looking sweet and pretty.

Redness covered my face as I remembered that exact moment in Texas on the porch. He had made my body look perfect in every way, from the slight curves of my legs to the birthmark on my right thigh. This, I realized, was really how Luke saw me that night, the night that we almost kissed on the porch.

Innocence, happiness, and pure love reflected in the soft hues of the moonbeams in the background. He added pastel-colored flowers to my hair. I was amazed at the detail of my eyelashes on my cheeks, and the strands of hair that danced in the breeze.

"It's beautiful," I whispered to him, and he grabbed my hand.

"You're beautiful."

Warm fuzzies burst inside of me.

The pleasure he gave me, the paintings, the warmth in his face and touch. An explosion of emotions for him filled me. Every detail uncovered a piece of Luke's puzzle, one that I wanted to put together.

I squeezed his hand back and leaned into him, and the crowd burst into applause. We looked like a normal, happy couple enjoying each other's company. Not a call girl and a man who just gave me the most intensive orgasm, ahem, orgasms of my life.

The people in the room didn't know about The Elite. They were men and women from Luke's business life, from the art world. A world I wanted to become a part of.

The night didn't end with a literal bang, but once it was over, Luke walked me to the door, and leaned against the frame.

"I thought we would, you know…" I whispered to him.

"Why rush, Jennifer? I want to experience us in Paris."

I gave him my best pouty lips.

He chuckled. "You're such a sex kitten."

I grabbed his chin and kissed him on the cheek, remembering how it felt to have his mouth on mine, and how he played with me on the balcony.

"Goodnight," he said, and then kissed me on the cheek.

As I walked away, he said, "Paris soon, babe."

Charlie opened the limo door, and I slid inside with the biggest smile on my face that instantly turned into a scowl.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Finn sat with his arms crossed in the corner of the limo.

"I didn't know you were here. Where have you been all night?"

"With a lady friend, for a little while, and making business deals. And… you?"

He lifted an eyebrow, and I smiled at the thought of Luke on the balcony and the orgasms. The sweet, sensual, double orgasms.

"Around," I said.

"Really? I didn't really see you all night."

"What is this, Finn? Fifty fucking questions? Double jeopardy? What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Why are you on the defense? It's my job to ask where my Girls are at parties. We have rules we must follow, Jennifer. I'm not a micromanager, but I'm always around."

"Oh, wasn't aware the boss was actually in, considering he hasn't talked to me in almost a week."

I removed the mask from my face and set it to the side. Finnley did the same.

"So tonight, I learned a few things," he continued.

I hoped this limo ride would end soon.

"Like?"

"What it really means to pleasure a woman."

The thought of Finn having sex with someone else, someone that wasn't me, made me sick. I wanted to forget about the feelings he forged within me. I wanted to pretend like I didn't care about his rendezvous, or the women that would simply drop to their knees and suck him off if he asked them to, or even the countless dates he had since I was marked as Taken.

But the truth was, I did care.

And it bothered me.

"Had a good fuck, I assume?" I said as sarcastically as possible.

"Almost. She's such a whore. She begged me to fuck her, but I decided that I didn't feel like fucking tonight. I'm changing my old ways. No more random bangs just for fun. Just meaningful ones, yeah?"

I rolled my eyes at him. Jealousy burned within me.

"I like a thick ass, small waist, and a pretty face. I'm not a complete dick, but I do have standards. But she wanted it," he paused, and then continued, "In retrospect, I should have fucked her crazy."

"Sometimes you can be such an ass."

He continued as if I didn't say a thing, "I wanted to fuck. She wanted me inside of her. I should have given in and put it in. But, I didn't. Aren't you proud?"

"Oh yeahhh," I said.

"I'm sorry. So where did you say you were tonight?"

I rolled my eyes at him, and he scooted closer to me.

"I'm asking you a question, Jennifer, and I demand you answer."

"Okay, sir," I said between gritted teeth, and then continued. "I walked around Luke's house, admired his paintings, and met him on the balcony, and then admired his artwork a bit more, and here I am, where you, sir, are stealing every ounce of my happiness."

It happened too fast. Finnley was on top of me, straddling my body, and I tried to push him away. I didn't need this again, or want it. I had to stop before I was too far into his wild games.

"I've told you. You are not to call me sir anymore. I've revoked that privilege."

"Get off of me, Mr. Felton. I don't want to do this anymore."

He grabbed my face. "I don't give a shit what you want, Jennifer. You say one thing, but your body says another. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?"

Finn pulled the black panties from his suit pocket and sniffed them, and then tucked them back.

My heart dropped, and I felt sick.

"Where did you get those?"

The limo stopped, and Charlie didn't come around to open the door.

Instead, Finn slid from on top of me and straightened his suit pants.

"I told you already, I should have fucked tonight, she begged for it and wanted it, but I didn't. Next time know whose name you should be fucking screaming when you come. Twice."

Then he left me to sit in my own filth.

I'd never felt like a whore before, but in a roundabout way, I was a whore, his whore.

Finn paid me.

Finn pleased me sexually, when he wanted.

Finn dressed me in pretty clothes and made me go on dates with men. Told me when to be home and made sure I obeyed.

And Finn almost fucked me on the balcony at Luke's party.

Would my mother be proud? I couldn't think about it.

* * *

For the next few weeks, I lived in my own personal hell. Jesse rode my ass, Paisley bitched me out, and Finn disregarded my every move as if I were invisible. Abbie even ignored me. Luke flew to New Zealand to meet with a client about the Texas mural project to be painted inside of an oil tycoon's corporate office, and Lori was on a month-long vacation to Amsterdam with Jeffery, her Number One. All the other girls were in and out, and paid no attention to little ole virgin me.

I became bored with books, TV, exercise, and even eating. I was going stir-crazy. Several meet-ups happened over the course of a few weeks, and I wasn't allowed to go because Luke had paid enough to reserve me for him, and him only. Drinking and sleeping didn't even curb the oncoming depression. Nothing could save me from myself.

It crossed my mind to go back home, but I had nowhere to stay, and I didn't want to rent a hotel room. Better to stay in Vegas.

Two nights before Luke arrived back, I dressed myself like a cheap whore: fishnets, a tight black skirt, and low-cut shirt that made my breasts pop out. Black eyeliner and eye shadow accompanied my teased hair. Forget a bra and panties, I was going to the Vegas Strip. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

I needed fast, pulsating music, so I could dance the night away.

And I would find it.

On the corner, a club bled the music and flashing lights that I so desperately craved. It would be my kryptonite. After three shots of tequila, I made my way to the dance floor. The liquor quickly found its way through my bloodstream because I hadn't eaten. I felt as light as a feather as I shook my ass, dry humped a few guys, and even got asked back to a hotel room or two. Even a few girls hit on me and wanted to take me home. I never knew gay clubs had so many straight people.

Three more shots of liquid gold and I was the pretty girl on top of the world: the virgin who could command them all with her toned legs and tight ass. The one wearing the slutty outfit and dirty mouth that made the filthiest of filthy blush. I gave them fake names, and numbers, batted my fake eyelashes, and said nasty things I wouldn't normally say.

In a matter of hours, I had transformed into someone I didn't know. Another person wore my skin, used my voice and body, and I watched from the sidelines as she acted out, fulfilling the destiny of becoming the little slut that Finnley created, in a place where creeps and perverts roamed and ruled. No one would judge me where the sin of the city ran wild. How could they? And there was no one around to reel me in from my mistakes. Not even Finnley could save me from the shadows of wickedness, and for a moment, I thought I might lose myself.

Once I was tanked on the brink of oblivion, I called Charlie to deliver me back to the mansion. While I waited, a young man, no older than me, offered me a shot, and I took it as I spoke filthy things to him: sucking cocks, eating pussy, and other nasty things that I never said to strangers. He wanted to leave with me in tow. If I continued to act out, virgin girl would be no more. But I had standards no matter how much of a whore I pretended to be.

A few more shots and my face went numb.

I barely could stand. The cute guy carried me to the parking lot, and I could hardly see. My world rocked and swayed, and my vision went hazy, then black.

Hard slaps across the face, pointless cursing, and I had come to—barely awake, alive even. I felt like I was dying and I had no control of my body.

Finnley held a flashlight in my eyes, and I tried so hard to talk.

Nothing.

"She's been fucking drugged. Who the fuck let her go alone? Jennifer?"

Finn's voice echoed like my name had been said a million times, but I was fading.

Fading away to nothingness.

"Jennifer. Stay with me. Please."

Blackness.

Then silence.

* * *

I woke to an empty, dim-lit room. I didn't know which day it was, or whether it was early morning or late afternoon. The last thing I remembered was going out, alone. Oh god, and being ridiculous.

I reached for my phone. It wasn't there. Damn it.

My mouth, sticky like I had swallowed liquefied sugar, needed water.

Stumbling from bed and down the stairs in a T-shirt and underwear proved to be harder than I imagined. My legs felt weak and shaky. Damn, my whole body did.

I chugged the water like it was going out of style and could hear a steady beat of music coming from somewhere in the house. The microwave read 6:21 p.m. I peeked out the window; no cars lined the drive except for V.

But the music continued and my head pounded along with it. I needed to find it and ask someone really nicely to turn it down.

As I walked to the stairs, I stopped and listened.

Was that… I heard it again… jazz music? Ray Charles?

Leaning my head against the basement door, I knew it was Ray Charles. "Get Around, Woman." I had danced to it one time in school.

Since no one was home, maybe Finn forgot to turn off the radio or something.

I opened the door and stumbled my way down the steps. The lights were low. But bent over the bed, ready to fuck, was a face I never thought I would see in Vegas.

Abbie.

Abbie and Finn.

My Abbie? My Finn?

What. The. Holy. Fuck!

I reached for something, anything to grab as my legs went from under me.

Twenty-one

Finn carried me up the stairs in his arms, alone. He laid me on the bed and sat down. We looked into one another's eyes and refused to speak a word.

Not one single word.

I wanted to, but how could I? What would I say?

The last time we spoke to one another—and seeing him almost fuck my best friend—left me speechless.

A few minutes passed, and I turned my back toward him and stared out the window. No words could describe how I felt.

Betrayed?

Jealous?

I hated that I cared. I hated that I hated my best friend for wanting to be with him. There, in that room. But if I were single, and not contracted, would I have done the same?

The shadows of the trees floated past the window, nightfall was upon us, and I knew he wouldn't leave regardless if I demanded.

"Why is she here?"

"Because you almost died, Jennifer. I had to let someone know. She was on your emergency contact list."

I rolled over and peered into his eyes. "What did you just say?"

"You were drugged at the club. Almost overdosed on Rohypnol. You didn't respond well to it, and you were out for almost a week. In the hospital for a few days until you were stable and then I brought you home. I didn't know when you'd wake up. We were all worried."

The last thing I remembered was the cute guy at the bar handing me shot after shot, and I took each one like a damned idiot.

"I was worried," he added.

"Bullshit. You didn't look too worried when you were about to fuck my best friend in the basement, did you? To me, it looked like you were having a grand time. Completely carefree!"

His jaw clenched. Speaking of the fucking devil, Abbie entered the room and stood next to Finnley. Her hand met his shoulder and squeezed.

I couldn't watch it.

Watch them.

Watch her be touchy-feely with him.

I knew her. Everything about her and how she worked, and flirted, and…

"Go away," I said, pulling the blanket over my body. I wanted to sleep, although I had slept for a week.

"You're being a baby," Abbie said.

I turned my body around and looked at her. "You're being a whore. But then again, what else is new?"

"And you're being a bitch, and hypocritical," Abbie said.

"Ladies, really?"

"Get. Out!" I said. "Both of you. Now!"

"Abbie, leave," Finnley said. She refused until Finn spoke with that dominant Sir tone that said "listen to me."

She pleaded with her eyes, asking if she could stay, but with a slight shake of his head, she was gone.

"Unbelievable," I whispered. "Un-fucking-believable. How long has this been going on? Few days? The whole time I've been lost in dreamland?"

"I'm not talking about this with you. I owe you no answers."

I sat up in bed and crossed my arms.

"First you decide to fuck with my emotions? Then you allow me to get over it and then fuck with me again. After I am on my deathbed, my fucking deathbed, you decide to fuck my best fucking friend. Then you have the nerve to stand here and tell me you don't owe me any fucking answers. Finn, I wish you would just fuck straight off. You are a prick. An asshole. This biggest douchebag I have ever met, and if I ask you for a fucking answer, I expect it."

His stance loosened, and his face softened.

"I'm sorry."

"Wait. Wait a fucking second. What did you say?"

"I'm sorry. I was wrong. It was a misjudgment on my part," he said.

"I'm glad that you're man enough to apologize and admit you were wrong, but it's still un-fucking-forgiveable."

"What more can I fucking say to you, Jennifer? I can't take it back. All I can do is tell you that I'm sorry and that I was fucking wrong. Either you can accept it or not."

I didn't want to. I wanted to yell at him, tell him to get the fuck out, and stay away from me until my contract expired. But the look on his face pulled me from my rage. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn't. Fucking weak for him.

I sighed and swallowed. "I shouldn't have to feel like this."

Finn kicked his shoes off, crawled on the bed, and placed his hands behind his head. Then, he had the audacity to laugh. Not one of those fake ones, but a deep, hearty genuine laugh. I elbowed him in his stomach, but he didn't stop with that contagious laugh that stood out so brilliantly when we first met. The one that could make anyone join in, even the saddest person in the world.

"What's so damn funny?"

"Nothing." More laughter.

I grumbled.

He rubbed his hand across my back and placed his chin on my shoulder and we spooned.

"You can't stay mad at me forever, you know?"

"Yes, I fucking can."

He placed his arm around my stomach and held me. Minutes passed, hours even, and we stayed there, in that spot with one another. Mr. Sandman visited me, and in my dreams, I imagined Finn and me sleeping that way forever. But I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to get the fuck out.

When I woke, he lightly snored in my ear. I tore his arm from my tummy and rolled over to stare at him. Although the darkness continued to linger, strips of moonlight stretched across the floor.

Peacefulness covered his face.

No lifted eyebrow, no half-smile, just beautiful lips and strong jawline. Eyelashes that seemed to go on for days and scruffiness on the chin with messy hair made up this fallen angel of a man. No one this picturesque really existed. But he did.

I sucked in a deep breath as I memorized every inch of his face. My body ached for him and hated him all at the same time as he lay beside me in dreamland.

Who the fuck do you think you are, Finnley Felton?

His eyelashes fluttered, and shiny eyes, the color of green grass in the summer, stared into mine. He inched his body closer, removing the gap of space between our lips. Our mouths were close, and his intoxicating breath and scent encapsulated me. Just an inch and we would kiss, just one little movement, and we would be as one. But I didn't dare. I couldn't keep putting myself in the line of fire. His hand traced my jawline, and he grabbed the bottom of my chin and paused.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked, softly, gently sliding his lips on the outside of mine and then he kissed me. My mind dizzied, and I thought I might melt into his inebriating taste. At first, I didn't kiss back and then I lost myself in the sensation of his softness. The sensation of him, which I missed and craved, rolled through my body and when I opened my eyes, I thought I saw stars. Every bit of Finnley, the man that seemed too much at times and the one that I could not get enough of at others, melded with me.

He didn't continue, or try to undress me and make me his whore. Instead, he lay next to me, twirling my hair in his fingers, kissing my cheeks, rubbing his nose against mine without saying one word. Words never could replace emotions, no matter how powerful or well written. I'd once heard that words could move mountains, but so could Finn's lips.

Finnley continued to poison me with his light touch, which caused me to instinctively part my lips, tilt my head ever so slightly, and close my eyes. His lips found mine again as if they were long lost lovers, and danced. This, I thought, would be the end of me, as he nibbled on my bottom lip between smiles.

The addictive, forbidden kisses would be what destroyed me from the inside out. I snuggled into him as much as I tried not to, and we fell asleep.

Smells of freshly roasted coffee beans and sugar filled the room as Finn sipped and stood at the window, watching the sunrise. I watched him from behind—taking in every muscle and curve of his body in tattered jeans and a T-shirt—as he drank. A smile crossed my face as I snuggled into the feathery blanket. He turned around when I moved, and I closed my eyes quickly.

I heard him set the coffee on the little table next to the bed, then his hand touched my head, and his lips on my forehead. I opened my eyes as he pulled away.

"Good morning," he said. "My mother used to say that a person could kiss away fever."

"Really?"

He nodded his head and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you feeling better?"

I sat up, and he handed me a cup of tea. Blueberries and honey hit my lips and warmed my soul.

"We need to talk," he said. He was all business.

After clearing his throat, he continued. "Luke called. He's very worried. Since you are his, currently, he asked if he could visit. I told him that would be your choice whether to see him or not. My answer is…"

"Yes. That will be fine," I said.

"All right."

Finn stood, gave a smile, and walked down the stairs. When the door opened, Luke appeared.

"I waited downstairs because I knew you'd see me." Luke came to me, and hugged my neck. His jaw clenched when he caught sight of me and he released a long breath.

"I will kill the little bastard who did this to you. You could have died."

"Yeah. That's what they tell me. How did your painting go? Good I hope?"

He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed me the picture of the finished product. Luke had outdone himself. A huge green pasture with a nice yellow and pink sky sunset spread behind it. On the far corner sat a farmhouse, a barn, and various colored horses: paints, Arabians, and palominos.

"You can scroll through."

On the porch, a woman with golden brown skin, and sunlight reflecting on her brown hair.

"Oh god. That's me, again. You always make me look so pretty."

He had painted me in cowboy boots, tight blue jeans, with my arms crossed, smiling while leaning against the railing. On the bottom of the picture in a cursive script, read Pioneer Woman. The grass blew in the breeze, and the background went on for miles. I felt as if I had traveled back to the house, and I was looking at it directly. The shadowing, coloring, everything was perfect. He even added a few oil derricks in the background to give it that Texas oil look.

"I tried to remember the time we shared. The company said they wanted a picture with a country feel to it, pioneerish. While I was gone, I couldn't stop thinking about you and the house. Now everyone around the world can appreciate you both."

I blushed.

"It's beautiful. I… I just don't know what to say other than thank you. The things you can do with paint. It's unbelievable."

I handed back his phone, and he grabbed my neck and hugged me.

"I was really worried."

I pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere. Seriously, everyone is making a big deal about it. I'm fine."

Luke lifted his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.

"If you say so."

The door cracked open, and Finn walked in with Abbie trailing behind him like a puppy with her tail between her legs. Sickening.

They all sat on the side of the bed, and the silence dragged on.

Luke said his goodbyes and Finnley walked him out, leaving me alone with the girl I once trusted with all of my secrets. The only person still alive that knew every detail about me, but I didn't speak first because I had nothing to say.

"I didn't tell him, you know. About your parents."

She knew how to get me talking.

"I didn't think you would."

"We didn't have sex."

The word "sex" made my blood boil. The thought of them in the basement, her bent over the bed with her ass in the air waiting for him to take her, made me sick. If I wouldn't have walked in, they would have gone through with it, and if I wouldn't have woken up, it may have went on for days. Would she have told me she fucked my boss?

"But you would have fucked him," I said.

"Yeah. I would still do it right now if he came in here and asked me. But he told me no. Not sure what happened between the two of you last night, but after that, he's been different."

"We didn't have sex," I said in the same tone as her.

"Would you?" she asked.

"No. And I don't want you having sex with him, either. He's my boss, and you're my best friend, it would put me in an awkward situation. I don't want to deal with it."

The silence nagged on for minutes.

"Why don't you tell me the truth? You don't want me to fuck him because you want to."

"No. I do not."

She scooted closer to me on the bed and grabbed my arm so tightly that it hurt.

"Tell me to my face. Look me in the eyes and say you don't."

"I do not want to fuck Finnley."

Finn opened the door, and she whispered under her breath, just loudly enough for me to hear, "You're lying."

Twenty-two

The next day, Abbie was on an early plane back to Texas. I didn't care. I needed time away from her to think and get over it. I would get over it, maybe.

After I fell back into my routine, Finn visited me in the night. He crawled into my bed and wrapped his arm around me as I turned around. I saw nothing but sadness in his eyes.

"Jennifer. We have to stop this. It's bad for business. Unfair to my clients. And the Girls are starting to talk. I can't have that."

"Then I'll quit."

"No. I can't have that, either. I'm not worth it, trust me. Sometimes I can be a son of a bitch. I treat women I'm in relationships with badly. I'm toxic. And I owe that to you. To stop this before it becomes too much or something too serious. It has to stop now."

"I understand."

He left me empty with no promises.

No insinuations. Nothing.

And he meant it had to stop.

I accepted it. I was too tired to continue.

I had to because Finnley started dating, and looked past me in a crowd of people as if I were nothing. I became invisible as the days turned into nights, and nights into days. I was stuck in a loop until I felt like my old self again. Then I was released to go back to work. Work.

I had someone to take my mind from it all. I would give myself to someone that made me happy and enjoyed spending every minute with me: Luke.

The dates were short and sweet. We took walks in the park, shared a few secrets, and joked about cowboys and beaches. A month had come and gone, and I was over Finn. Not seeing him helped.

Since I was on the job again, Jesse made sure to setup a meeting in Mr. Felton's office about my behavior, and I was given a verbal warning about being unprofessional at the dress shop.

I had forgotten all about the masturbation mishap.

Mr. Felton, in his three-piece suit, acted as a witness to my warning. It was the first time I had seen him in weeks. I refused to make eye contact and kept my eyes to the floor. Apologized and agreed it would never happen again. It couldn't and wouldn't. We stood to leave, and before I left, Mr. Felton called me back into the office. Once inside and alone, Mr. Felton burst into laughter.

Embarrassed, I put my hand over my eyes and waited for it to be over.

Note taken. Being the bitch she was, Jesse made him sign my warning, and lesson fucking learned. Not sure why I never expected it to be exposed, considering Jesse still rode my ass and hated me.

"I didn't know you had it in you. And the things you said to Sophia, was that her name? Hilarious."

"It was your fault, you know. You turned me into a sex-crazed monster," I said dryly.

"No, Ms. Downs, I just unlocked the door."

I didn't want to be there.

His smell, his office, everything about him was smothering.

Making me sick to my stomach and made my head reel. I couldn't be around him. I needed to leave.

We never talked about the day in the dress shop when he pinned me against the wall, or the night at the party when he made me come twice; those things had slid behind us in the dark.

His face went serious as I sat in front of him, and I finally made eye contact. He turned his head and walked to the window, staring out over the city streets. He couldn't look at me either.

"I've tried to forget that day many times. It was stupid of me."

I didn't want him to talk about it.

"It was inappropriate," he continued.

My body stiffened, and I couldn't respond. I didn't want to conjure up the feelings that I had tried to bury over the past few weeks. The ones that had almost vanished with time.

"I'm just glad it's behind us, and you've moved on," I said.

"I am, too. It was for the best. Nancy and I are having such a wonderful time. Did you see the pictures of Colorado?"

I had seen the pictures of their getaway weekend. Jesse passed them around the dinner table one night, hoping to get a rise out of me, I suspected, but didn't.

"Yeah. She's a beautiful woman. Just your type. Are you happy?" I asked him.

"Very. I haven't felt this way in a long time. Like I finally could settle down again and start a new life. It's nice, you know?"

"Yeah. That's great."

Finn continued to look out the window. "Oh look, Charlie just arrived to pick you up. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting. He's on a tight schedule today."

"Right." I grabbed my things and headed to the door.

"Oh. I almost forgot to tell you. Tonight's the night, my dear. You have a special date with Luketon. By his words, Luketon feels that you are both ready to consummate the deal since Paris was temporarily canceled. Are you ready? Do you feel it's time?"

His eyes gleamed, but the shine was no longer for me.

I knew that.

"Yeah. After the last few weeks we've spent together, I think it would be perfect."

Twenty-three

Candles covered the small table and a violinist played in the background of Luke's dining room. Silver platters awaited us, and we sat.

"Stuffed shrimp and your favorite, macaroni," Luke said.

I giggled.

"Luke, you are so sophisticated with your fancy macaroni and cheese."

He laughed with me. "Oh, that macaroni is for you, m'lady."

"Wine?" The female servant asked. I nodded my head and thanked her as she poured my favorite cranberry wine.

"You ordered Texas wine. Yum." I smiled before taking a sip.

When we finished dinner, Luke stood and grabbed my hand. The lights lowered, and the violinist played a soft melody that was perfect for dancing. "Would you give me the honor?"

His hands found their way down my body to my waist, and I pulled him close to me. We danced a slow, sensual dance. Our bodies' scents mingled with one another, and I felt punch-drunk happy. His lips lingered on the softness of my neck and the heat of his breath left me wanting more. He spun me around, dipped me in front of the fireplace, and pulled me back up to him. My eyes looked up into his blues, and he smiled.

"Paris in two weeks," he said.

"You're joking, right? I thought it was cancelled."

"I would never joke about bringing you. We are going." He spun me around and back to him.

"You're going to love the lights, the music, the wine, the city. I was offered a project and it may take me a few weeks, and I want you to accompany me. I know I'll be dragging you back to the States before it's over."

"We'll be staying for weeks?"

"Longer, if you want. I received the approval to take you this morning."

Excitement fluttered. I wanted to leave tomorrow.

"So you're a dancer?" I asked.

"I've taken a few lessons, and so have you."

"How did you know?" My lips traced the outside of his, and his breathing increased. Another few spins and a dip and I found myself back in his arms, smiling.

"You've got rhythm," he said.

My hands found themselves pulling off his suit jacket and throwing it on the couch. He lifted an eyebrow, and I couldn't help but think of Finn.

I slipped off my high heels and realized I needed them to halfway stand a chance next to Luke's six-foot-two frame. Following my lead, he removed his shoes and pulled my hair from the tight ponytail. Brown softness fell around my shoulders, and he ran his hand through it.

The violinist continued to play "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong as Luke led me up the stairs.

It was go time.

I smiled at him and took his hand.

A garden tub full of bubble bath awaited us, along with two glasses, and another bottle of wine. Steam filled the bathroom.

"Mr. Brand, if I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to get me drunk."

He pulled me close to him and traced the outside of my jaw with his finger.

"Never. I want you to do this because you want to, Jennifer. Not because you've had the most delicious Texas cranberry wine ever created, or because I paid for you to do so."

My breath hitched in my chest.

"Don't say anything at all. It's the elephant in the room, might as well make it known. I don't want to be here if you don't want to. I don't want to force you."

I walked closer to Luke and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want you to be the one."

Luke leaned against the bathroom counter and crossed his arms, waiting for me. As he took off his shirt, I caught sight of another tattoo on the other side of his abdominal: a key.

"The key, it's new?"

"Dance for me, and I'll tell you about it."

That, I could do.

I moved my hips in slow figure eights while unzipping the front of my dress. Once it fell to the ground, I stood in cute mesh panties and a bra. This lingerie was for looks only; this set was for Luke, and Luke alone. His arms fell to his side as he took in my body, stomach, and panties. He bit his bottom lip and motioned me to him.

No more dancing. I followed his command.

With gentle hands, he undid my bra and exhaled heavily as he touched my bare breasts.

"You're absolutely amazing."

I closed my eyes as he hooked my panties with his thumb and slid them down.

"Fucking beautiful."

He moved his finger in a circle, and I turned around for him. I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world as Luke took me in. His hands—soft and erotic—rubbed my ass, found their way up my back, and massaged my shoulders. I pushed my ass against the hardness in his pants. The thought of him enjoying me turned me on.

With force, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. With the same vivacity, I scooted them to the floor and took in the size of him. My eyes went big, and I swallowed.

Luke laughed, and instantly I felt comfortable. His fingers lightly brushed the outside of my shoulders, and he pulled me tight into him. He smelled like winter and spring mixed together, the middle of the two.

"We'll go slow"—he ran his fingers across my lips—"I promise I won't hurt you."

The warm tub awaited us, and we both entered, allowing the bubbles to surround our nakedness. We crisscrossed our legs and took in one another's naked bodies. I slowly leaned back and dipped my head in until my hair soaked up the water.

"Tell me what you want to do to me," I whispered as I leaned back in the tub. His arms stroked my legs, my breasts, and my shoulders.

"I want to make you mine."

"That's it?" I laughed. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, and he kissed my shoulders.

"I want to make love to you until the sun comes up. I want you to know that you are the most beautiful woman alive, and pleasure you until you feel you can't take it anymore, and then I want to fuck you until I can't take it anymore."

I turned around abruptly, splashing water, and he laughed again.

"What? Please tell me you didn't expect it to be lollipops and rainbows. I've seen the way you've looked at me, Jen. Undressing me with your eyes, imagining the dirty things you'd do to me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to do those dirty things. I want to make you come, and then I want to fuck you senseless. And when you think we're finished, I want to do it again and again. I want to pleasure you in ways you've never been pleasured and hear the sound of my name being whispered from your lips.

"You're looking at me like you had no idea." He laughed.

"I want to whisper your name as we make love. But I want it slow…" I said, trailing my hand down his lips. "And then I want to scream it when you're giving it to me hard." I moved my finger, tracing the Mark Twain quote on his chest.

"And then I want you to fuck me into oblivion." My hands found their way down his abs and lightly brushed against his hard-on.

Luke moved closer to me, and as we stared into each other's eyes, I tilted my head. In slow motion as if the moment would last forever, Luke's lips met mine, and we were kissing. Soft kisses, the ones that make a girl smile days later. Then rough ones, the kind that make you want to liquefy into each other. Our tongues wrestled with one another, fighting the pent up aggression, and sexual tension that neither of us ever would win. We wanted to be inside of one another, completely together.

Luke rubbed the bubbles over my breasts and trailed his hands to my sex. Oh, his hands were so soft on me, touching and caressing each part of me, and with each touch, I wanted to give into him, in the water, like in my fantasy.

He continued to kiss me, placing his fingers between my legs and adding pressure to places that throbbed to be touched. Without hesitation, I took a tighter hold of his hardness and slid my hand up and down, allowing the soap and water to help guide my movements. He groaned with satisfaction, and I moaned with pleasure. More heated kisses and our wet bodies were out of the tub, drying one another off. We wanted each other more than summer wanted—no, needed—rain.

With each touch, the sexual chains released, and I found myself begging Luke to take me.

In his bedroom, different-sized candles filled the room. Before leading me to the four-poster king-sized bed, he had grabbed the bottom of my chin and made me stare into his deep blues.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

I licked my lips and nibbled on his bottom lip. "Yes," I whispered.

Luke demanded I lay down. I obeyed.

I opened my legs so he could see every part of me. He was on all fours kissing the inside of my thighs, licking me all over, and buried his head into my sex. Working his tongue around, I moved into him harder. He licked and sucked every inch of me until I almost couldn't take it anymore and before I came, he teased me and worked his way up my stomach until his lips played on the outside of my mine. I moved my body to steal a kiss, but he pulled away. Teasing me, making me beg for it. When his lips finally met mine, I could taste myself on his tongue. I ran my fingers through his dark brown hair, and drew his face closer, but then pulled away.

"We've broken the rules, Jennifer. We're not supposed to kiss like that."

He smiled and so did I, pulling his lips to mine.

"Fuck the rules," I said.

"I am," he said, and chuckled. He ran his fingers up and down my body and kissed my neck.

"Are you ready for me?"

I nodded my head.

Trails of kisses led back down to my sex. Carefully, he slid the tip of his finger inside of me. I moaned.

"I want to be the first thing inside of you." And he removed his finger.

More caresses of his tongue and kisses up my body and my temperature rose.

His rock-hard manhood wanted me, and I wanted it. He straddled on top of me, and I could feel the tip of him close to the outside of me. I wanted him in me.

My breaths went ragged as he sucked in air and positioned his body closer to mine. I ran my fingers through his hair, and smiled, and whispered between heavy breathing as I looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

"Fuck me, Luke. Make me yours."

And then the door slammed open.

Twenty-four

"Get the fuck off of her," Finnley yelled.

Luke rolled off of me, and I sat up in bed like a prairie dog peeking out of the hole.

Dark green eyes stared into mine and anger filled me.

"What the hell, Finnley!" I yelled back at him.

"Come here, Jennifer."

"No. Fuck you," I said.

Finnley walked to me, grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me to the door.

"Get your fucking clothes on, now. We're leaving."

"No. I don't want to leave. I'm in the middle of fucking something."

"I thought it was quite obvious that you will not be fucking something tonight. If I tell you to do something, you will obey, and if you don't, then you will wish you did. Now get fucking dressed."

I pulled my arm back as hard as I could, but his grasp was too tight. I couldn't break free and knew I would bruise. Like shackles, he kept hold of me, and even if I wanted to escape, I couldn't.

Luke didn't care to cover himself on the bed, but instead gave a sinister smile and placed his hands behind his head.

Finn placed his hand behind my head, put his mouth close to my ear, and whispered, "No fucking way I am going to lose you to this bastard. You are mine, Jennifer. I don't feel like sharing my secret recipe."

That day in the kitchen flashed through my mind and the memories replayed. I knew there was no arguing with Finnley, not when a business decision was in play, so I angrily moved to the bathroom and dressed.

I cussed him the entire time.

Finally, when I had fully accepted giving myself to Luke, begged for it, even, was when Finn decided to not agree? He had months to make up his mind, and fucking Nancy to fuck. I had Luke. We were finished.

Luke would have been gentle with me.

He would care for me afterward.

He would make sure that everything was okay as he placed my virginity into his pocket. Instead of wearing it as a badge on his chest, he would have locked it away and treasured the moment. Maybe even paint a picture for the world to see.

I wasn't a cheap whore to Luke, or someone that he could fuck and leave. I meant something to him, and each time I looked into his eyes, I knew that. Every time we shared a joke, I knew that it meant more than just my virginity to him. Was it love? I didn't know, but the idea of him loving me comforted me.

The high heels fit snug on my feet. I ripped them off, and walked barefoot to the door where Finn waited. I breezed past him, and went back to Luke, who stood at the bottom of the stairs with plaid pajama bottoms. I opened my arms and tucked my body into his.

"You're fucking beautiful. We will have our time in Paris," he whispered into my ear.

Each tingle exploded on my arms as his lips lightly brushed the side of my neck. His hands rubbed circles on my back, then found their way to my hair. I felt like I was his.

"You never told me about the key."

"It's the key to my heart. I had it tattooed because you've already got it."

I looked into Luke's eyes. He titled his head and moved close to me. As if Finn wasn't there, our tongues danced while our hands rustled through hair. We even exchanged cute, little nibbles of lips. We couldn't keep our hands off of one another. Oh god, I want him.

"Paris," I whispered.

When I finally managed to pull away, I continued my way past Finnley, who looked even more pissed than before, and walked outside. No hostility, no anger, just slight agitation fueled me. I had the key to Luke's heart, and it was the only thing that kept me calm. I was experiencing the calm before the storm.

V sat in front of the house, her paint dark and luminous. I opened the door, and shut myself inside as I stared forward into the darkness.

When I was a child, I would give everyone the silent treatment when I was mad. My mother said it was my father's stubbornness, but I didn't care. I knew that if I spoke when my anger level was close to a ten, I would say things I regretted. Things that I would never be able to take back, so instead of eating my words later, I swallowed them. Some habits and character traits will never die no matter how much a person changes.

Finn slid into the driver's side and started V with a vengeance.

The engine rumbled, and he burned rubber when we pulled off. Way to be an asshole, I thought.

My mind wandered as we drove down the long country road. I thought of my best friend, and Luke. I thought of my childhood cat and how she used to sleep between my legs when I was a kid. Then my thoughts went darker, and I thought about my parent's funeral and the house that I sold to run away from my anguish.

Finnley spoke to me, but I tuned him out, never really listening to a word he said. The way he barged in while I was in the middle of one of the most intimate moments of my life was unforgivable. But then again, did I have a right to be pissed? I was Finn's, after all.

My thoughts continued to wander on. They swooped into memories I had long forgotten, and they were interwoven with new memories of fancy dinners and designer clothes. High heel shoes and beautiful lingerie, and closets full of every piece of fabric I could imagine. My life had become something that I wasn't. I had become someone I didn't know anymore.

I sucked in deep breaths and exhaled long sighs, hoping the movement of air in my lungs would calm the burning anger.

The stars across the desert seemed to shine like bright diamonds. I could see the silhouettes of cactus line the streets, and watched the dust in our wake as we sped forward. The engine growled and purred, coaxing me calm, pulling me back to reality and away from dangerous thoughts. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the seat.

We pulled into the driveway, and I stared at the house that had become my home. Finn didn't look at me as he opened the door, and slammed it. Confusion coated me. I did nothing. He had no right to be pissed off at me. And with that, my rage went to an unknown level.

He had his woman.

He went on ski trips with Nancy, and fancy dinners, and brought her to business parties, and red carpet affairs.

Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, the name that seemed to show up everywhere.

The woman that all the Girls believed Finn would marry.

Nancy: the blonde bombshell that made Finn the happiest man alive.

What the hell did he want with me?

Everyone had gone for the evening and the house was quiet. Some of the girls took vacations with their Number Ones, and the others took time off to visit their family.

If I could have slept, I would have, but I couldn't. My emotions were reeling, and I had to clear my mind before I landed in a dark place of resentment.

I went to the patio. Winter was quickly approaching, and the grass seemed crispier under my bare feet. The stars above twinkled, but it was different than in Texas. The sky seemed to be darker, bigger, and stretch on for miles in Vegas like the city streets.

The lawn chair, although the fabric was cold beneath my legs, held me like a cocoon. The cold air brushed my skin, and I shivered, but didn't leave. I wanted to burn the images of Luke washing my naked body in my mind forever. I wanted to memorize the look on Finnley's face when Luke hovered above me kissing my neck, being so close to making me his own. Just one long thrust and he would have been completely inside me, and I no longer would be a virgin.

But Luke didn't want to hurt me and was taking his time, only to be fucked in the end.

The memory of his skin, soft to the touch and our closeness made my body beg for more. I leaned my head back and groaned.

When I fully understood I would be selling my virginity, I never thought the act of giving it away could be sweet. I imagined being fucked and deflated, left to deal with myself, and the ugly side of sex. Broken.

But it was nothing like that. The act—if it would have continued—would have been something beautiful that I could have fantasized about as an old woman.

Luke found beauty inside of me when I thought it was lost. Above all, he saw me as I could never see myself. The pictures he painted reflected his feelings. He brought color to my world of darkness, and for that, I would be forever thankful.

My thoughts wandered back to Finn, and the lingerie store, and the way he pinned me against the door and told me I was easy to love. The lust in his eyes and the husk in his voice traveled along my body with his breath.

Finn.

The whole reason why I sat in the back yard of a million-dollar mansion, and why I met Luke in the first place.

Finn.

The man who made me the sex crazed kitten that I was today. The one who taught me about my inner desires that I never knew existed.

Finn.

The man that pissed me off beyond the furthest star in the sky, yes fucking light years' worth.

Until I lost my virginity, the burden of being pure and wholesome would follow me as a stalker in the night. A heavy price tag sat on my shoulders, and locked tightly around my neck almost choking me.

I was Little Red Riding Hood, and the men that desired my virginity were the big, bad wolves, licking their lips as I passed, hoping to catch a whiff of my purity while offering thousands of dollars for just one night to be inside of me. The dark thoughts sickened me, but I relished in them. Being a virgin gave me power, but I was ready to give it away. Willingly.

I closed my eyes tight, then opened them. The cool air stung, causing water to obstruct my vision. I tucked my feet under my body, hoping to warm my frozen toes.

The sound of the water in the hot tub as the waterfall changed different colors kept my attention. The steam rose from the top, and the heat called my name. A heated Jacuzzi… what a luxury.

I wanted to jump in, to let the warmth relax my muscles and mind. And with that thought, I stood and slipped off my clothes.

Modesty barely existed anymore, especially being in a house full of women. Not that anyone was home, but still. Gone was the shy, timid Jennifer, replaced with a person that made me feel like a stranger to myself. Was that even possible?

One toe after another, I dipped and slid into the rumbling water until my body became a void in its depths. I sighed as I allowed the jets to loosen me. Closing my eyes, I had hopes to control my emotions. To reel them in before they ran wild, to think of nothing, and relax.

What was Luke doing at the moment?

Painting another picture of our intimate evening together, or calling Finnley to request a refund?

I tried to tell myself I was just a night of sex, but I knew it was more than that.

The key to his heart.

The words, the meaning, the tattoo he wore on that sexy lower abdominal because of me. I wondered what the other ink represented, and if any others were for women.

Parched with thirst, I wanted nothing more than a bottle of water, but I didn't want to leave. My eyes felt heavy, and I could have fallen asleep. Relaxation hadn't come in weeks, and neither had I.

I forced myself awake and stared at the sparkling stars in the sky that reminded me of the women's gigantic rings at the parties I attended. Would I be fit to be a bride one day? Isn't that what every woman dreams about? Their fairy tale wedding with a beautiful dress, glass slippers, and the outrageously expensive jewelry to signify their everlasting love and devotion to their husband? No. I couldn't think about marriage. I wasn't marriage material.

Lori told me about a girl who used to work for Finn. She met the man of her dreams while on the job and was fired after the mention of love. Her and Herald ran away to Hawaii together and married immediately. Within two months, she was pregnant with their first child, and they lived happily ever after.

"It could happen, Jennifer," she whispered to me.

I smiled, and then walked away.

I knew it couldn't happen because the person I wanted at the time was unavailable.

Fucking Finnley Felton.

Just the thought of him angered me. I wanted to give my virginity away weeks ago; I wanted him to be the one, but Finnley refused me time after time. I got over him. I forced myself too. I wanted to move on to the client charades and dinners, stupid parties, and fancy clothes.

Without the virgin tag, I would no longer be looked at like I was something pure and innocent, but instead as a sex kitten. The one that currently stayed quietly in her cage.

I wanted out.

I wanted release.

I wanted to be taken.

But Finn.

The way he kissed me so sweetly on the lips that night in bed and how he did little things to make sure I was taken care of. The thought of that side of him took my breath away. Even the way his eyes said sorry the day he was handed the golden envelope with my destiny written inside. Every memory of him, conjured something deep inside that I constantly forced myself to suppress because I had to, because I had signed my rights away, because we were over it.

If I had known being an Elite would be hard, that the man that haunted my dreams really lived, and that I would not be able to love, I would have never done it. Love was such a powerful emotion, and something that I would never fully experience as long as I was Elite.

What had I truly gotten myself into?

"Fucking Finnley," I whispered with my eyes closed.

"You rang?"

My heart palpitated at the sound of his voice, and I wanted to pretend as if he were just a figment of my imagination. But he wasn't. I knew he wasn't. I couldn't turn around and look at him. Lividness filled me.

The water moved and I knew he had dipped himself inside of the hot tub; his toes touched the outside of my leg. When I opened my eyes, he wore that boyish grin on his face and I wanted to slap it off.

"Feisty, little thing, aren't you?"

The amusing tone in his voice angered me even more.

Silent treatment from here on out.

I closed my eyes, sunk deeper into the water, and leaned my head against the edge.

"Jennifer. Honestly. There are a few things that need to be known. Luke…"

I opened my eyes immediately and stared at Finn.

"Luke is really pissed at me, and I don't blame him. He threatened to sue me and come over and take you to his house like a caveman. I laughed at him and told him to try. But really? Who does he think he is? The look on his face when I walked in. Priceless."

"You are such an asshole"

"Oh. So you are talking? Fantastic."

I groaned.

"I thought it was cute that he really thought I would let him go through with taking your virginity. Did he? Did you? Really, Jennifer, you mustn't think I would let that happen?"

I had no words. His voice turned cold, animalistic.

"You are mine. I've told you time and time before. No one will take that away from me. No one, not even my stupid, little brother."

Realization set in.

The eyes. The accent. The way they treated one another.

"Holy fuck. How?

"Oh what? Little Luketon didn't tell you? We have the same mother." Finnley laughed. "Not surprising, really. He's always been so secretive. Always bested me in sports, in painting, even in trivial things like piano lessons and cards, but he never was smarter than me. Never. Some things never change, Jennifer."

The rushing water no longer took me away from my thoughts. Not with Finnley sitting in front of me, bare-chested, with a smile on his face. If I didn't know better, I'd say Finn enjoyed it. Enjoyed being in control of both Luke's destiny and mine.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It isn't my job to tell you about my family. My job is to be your boss and to offer the best prices and protection for my girls while ensuring my customers experience quality service. I did that. I accomplished it. But sometimes, not often, I decide that the rules are not playing by my own. So I change them. With family involved, it makes it much easier."

"It's not just your family you're playing with. It's my emotions, too. "

"Even more reason to stop it before it happened."

"What about Nancy, Finn? Your serious relationship? Your future fucking wife? I don't want to play these games anymore. I'm tired of them. I'm tired of you. You're driving me crazy."

He didn't answer.

I stood.

The water swooshed over the edges and splashed onto the cement ground. Before I could get my foot over the side, Finnley grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. I lost my balance and with a splash, he caught me in his arms.

"You can't be mad at me."

Our faces were so close to one another, so incredibly close.

"Let me go."

I struggled to get away, but his firm grasp was ever holding.

"No."

"I don't want to be around you right now."

"I don't care."

"You should. I don't like you very much at the moment."

"I still don't care. I want you to sit with me and enjoy this beautiful night."

"No. Let. Go."

He grabbed my face with his hands and slammed his lips against mine. He sucked on my bottom lip and I tried to force him away, but his kisses were unwavering. My heart raced as he ran his hands through my wet hair, and the wall of anger slowly crumbled, and I began to kiss him back. As much as I wanted to pull away, I was kissing him. Stupid body. With that, all the emotions that I had locked away released. He lifted me on top of him, and I could feel him, long and hard as I straddled his legs. Once I pulled my lips away, I reared my hand back and slapped his face as hard as I could with my wet hand.

"I'm sick of the fucking games," I said.

He moved closer until his nose almost touched mine. With a tilt of his head, he softly brushed his open lips against mine. We didn't kiss, but my breath caught, and so did his. I tried to swallow, but my throat was parched because I was thirsty, but not only for water. Every emotion that I suppressed was stuffed back into the basement of my heart. I was fucking done with him.

I stood from the hot tub and walked naked through the house to the shower. I didn't give a damn if I tracked water over the wood floor.

Finn didn't follow me.

With the shower water turned on hot, I stood underneath until it burned my skin.

I needed to feel alive.

I wanted to scorch the confusion away.

Twenty-five

I stepped from the shower and toweled off my body. My reflection displayed the face of the saddest girl in the world, who continued to go on about her ways with nothing more than a pretty face, slim waist, and a million problems. I wrapped the towel around my head and stalked to my bedroom.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, I wished Lori was home. She had been gone way too long, and I missed the camaraderie that we shared, her good advice, and silly poetic sayings. She understood me, probably the only person in this house that did.

I slipped on a t-shirt and pajama pants, and turned on the TV. I wanted to get lost in stupid zombies who ate out people's hearts. That would make me feel better.

The door clicked, and Finn walked in. I turned the TV up as loud as it would go until it blared the gnarling sounds of ripping tendons, hoping he would get the hint.

But he didn't.

Instead, he jerked the cord from the wall, and stood with his arms crossed.

"Do you love him?"

I stared up at the ceiling and refused to answer. I didn't know the answer to the question. Was it love? I couldn't give a clear answer.

"I need to know, Jennifer. Do you love him?"

"This has become personal, hasn't it?" I glared at him.

"It's always been personal. You'll learn that no matter how hard you try to detach yourself from someone that it doesn't work. I don't care what the fucking contract says about love. I know better. I saw the way you looked at him. Now answer me."

"What about the other fuck's you've had in the last few months. What about Nancy? What do you know about love?"

"I've fulfilled some fetishes and I've made sexual dreams come true. But were those women the type I am content sleeping next to without fucking? Or someone I would bring to meet my family? Tell my secrets to?" He shook his head and continued. "Sometimes you have sex to be purely physical. To forget about that person that means the world to you. And yeah, I've fucked them, and all of them came crawling back. Gave them the best orgasms of their lives, even made them beg for more on all fours. But did I connect with them emotionally? Did I give two shits about them afterward? No. But can you say the same about your rendezvous with Luke? Love is an emotion that will destroy you if you let. It can ruin your life, or it can create a new one. Don't talk to me about fucking love, Jennifer Downs. The question is yours to answer."

I wanted to run away from his smothering words. I stood to leave, but he pulled me into him. His jaw clenched, waiting for me to answer, waiting for me to tell him how I really felt about Luketon Brand. Did I love Luke?

"No. I don't know what love is."

"When you stare into someone's eyes, and you get a shot of adrenaline that streams through you and sings within your blood, that's love. It's a silly memory of a person that makes you laugh, or a second that you relive in your mind a million times over just so you can experience it again. Love is kisses and touches and all the little things that make your body flood with emotions such as need, want, protectiveness, jealousy, hurt, and anger. It can take your breath away, or smother you at times, and make you feel like you can't go on. Your heart may race a thousand miles per minute, then slow down, and then race again, just with a simple look. Love is deadly and can kill you from the inside out if you let it. It makes you do stupid, ridiculous things, and say senseless sappy words, or listen to silly love songs, jazz, or dance in the streets, or laugh, or smile. Love is a weapon, or a drug, and can drive a person mad. I know what love is, and what it's like to be in love, and I have a feeling you do too."

I swallowed. I did know what being in love was.

My mind tumbled like a satellite lost in space, barrel rolling and spinning, shining only when the sun reflected on it, and then circled around into nothing but darkness.

If I admitted loving, my life would become a jumbled mess, a jigsaw puzzle where the pieces were never meant to fit together. Cinderella couldn't be a princess if the shoe didn't fit.

Finn and I were different, but the same.

Could I really become a part of his world?

His life?

Was it even an option? Or, rather, another stupid fairy tale that love created to confuse me.

Everything would change.

I couldn't handle more change.

But as I looked into his eyes, my breath and words didn't seem to come, and I knew that everything he spoke of, I felt. Love could be cruel, and toxic, and overpowering. Love could jab you in the heart and leave you dry, but love could also make the birds sing louder, make the music sound lovelier, and make the wind blow sweeter.

"I know what you're thinking. Your face gave it away."

He whispered into my ear, and I closed my eyes.

His breath lingered on my neck while his hands lightly grazed my arms, pulling me closer to him. He did know what I was thinking, and every fiber of my being instantly responded, even when I told it not to, even when I tried to hold it back. Somehow, my heart knew, but my mind continued to fight against it. Because I couldn't give in. It wasn't an option.

Finn placed his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes, and for a moment, I thought I could see his soul. My arms found their way around his neck and his twined around my waist. Then he was lifting me into the air and my legs naturally wrapped around his waist. His hands were on my ass, and I looked down into his eyes—his beautiful jade green eyes that seemed to know me when I didn't know myself. That seemed to call me from across any room, and speak words that were never said.

My lips magnetized toward his and we kissed. Not rushing one another, but fully taking in the perplexity of the situation at hand.

Gravity had vanished, and I was floating, completely weightless in Finn's arms. He used his teeth and nibbled my bottom lip, and then his tongue found mine and saliva mingled, creating a mixture of Jennifer and Finnley, a love potion so strong that Cupid himself couldn't claim it.

He broke away and placed me on my feet, but I thought I might not be able to stand. I nervously giggled, and his hand found my face and trailed down the back of my neck. He was pushing my lips to his again for seconds—and thirds—being so greedy, trying to take as much of me that he could. Our top and bottom lips alternated; I wanted to taste his full bottom lips while he wanted my top, and we switched, fully taking in the kiss, sucking and biting one another playfully.

What started soft became hard and we fought, trying to keep our hands from forbidden places. But his hands wandered across each part of my body, memorizing every curve, every muscle and dip, and he moaned with satisfaction as he trailed up my shirt.

Love and lust flowed through my veins, and I felt completely powerless as he touched me. We lost ourselves in the moment, in the nibbles and kisses, in the powerful exchange of pent-up emotions.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered. And I didn't know.

"I don't think I can stop. My intentions were never to hurt you, or make you fall in love. All I ever wanted to do was break you down and build you back the way I wanted. And it worked, didn't it?"

Dizziness overcame me, and I felt like I couldn't have enough of him, but I had too much at the same time. And then his lips were on my collarbone, trailing across my face, and tugging on my earlobe, making me sigh with satisfaction. We took a break, only to catch our breaths, and to make sure we weren't dreaming. A smile, a kiss, fingers running through my wet hair, and then he led me to his bedroom.

I followed.

I couldn't resist.

I'd been drugged by his taste, by his scent, by him, and if it was wrong, then so be it because at that moment, my heart told me it was right.

Twenty-six

He pulled me by two fingers, led me down the hall, and opened the door. I had never been inside his room before. Abstract paintings on the walls, skylights in the ceiling, and a large bed below. It was everything I imagined it'd be, forbidden and off-limits, but simple in its own way.

More kissing, more lip sucking, more touching, and then I was being pushed against the wall with my arms restricted above my head. I broke free and ran my fingers through his shaggy, soft hair, then I was taking off Finnley's pants, and he was removing my shirt and pajama bottoms until we stood naked in front of one another for the first time.

I took him in, all of him, every single muscle until my eyes landed on his manhood. My heart galloped fast, and a bolt of adrenaline shot through my body as I looked with curiosity and uncertainty. Then our lips were dancing, mingling, and I memorized his mouth while he moved me backward to the bed.

We lay next to one another; his hands found my sex and mine his. He touched me, and I stroked him. I sat up in bed on all fours, and placed my mouth around his hardness. I had never given head before, but I had been told how. I would have to remember to thank Lori for the graphic banana show later.

I started licking the outside, and then placed the tip of him between my lips. He moaned with satisfaction as I placed most of him in my mouth. His hands rubbed and spanked my ass, and the thought of him, inside me, made me want him even more. I kissed up his stomach and watched his chest rise and fall with each ragged breath. His hands found their way into my hair, and he pulled my face closer to his.

He positioned me on all fours and slipped his head between my legs, licking my wetness, and then I had him in my mouth, teasing and pleasing him in the same way that he did me. He spread my lips apart and as his tongue found my clit, I saw stars. Actual stars, I thought, when he licked me, slow and gentle. My hips began to move, and I pushed my sex harder into his face, letting him fully taste all of me. I stroked and licked every bit of him, the tip down the shaft, and he wrapped his arms around my waist in pleasure as I sucked and nibbled, and lightly grazed my fingers across his legs, and up his hardness.

Figure eights and circles from his tongue urged me to push harder onto him, wanting him to make me come as the build-up happened below. And then his finger was inside of me, and I couldn't control myself.

"I can taste you," he said. And with those words, the orgasm built and then released. I moaned his name as I convulsed and throbbed. An orgasm so powerful, and clenching, that it seemed to take over my entire body. The intensity from Finnley's tongue took me away to another place. Heaven, I thought.

Every internal part of me sprung to life as he dipped his tongue in and out, tasting my sweet honey, and I moaned his name and pushed him further down my throat. He groaned in satisfaction as he rolled me on my back and trailed his fingers up my body. Then Finn's sexy face was floating above mine, asking me with his eyes if it was okay.

We were breathing together as if we couldn't catch our breaths.

His eyes deepened, and so did his kisses.

His hand touched my body. And every place was paired with intoxicating bites that made my head swim.

"I'll go slow," he whispered in that British accent that was so fucking hot. I smiled. He exhaled slowly and his breath tingled on my skin. I was so wet, so ready for him, so turned on, and I wanted to give myself to him in every sense. I opened my legs and he hovered on top of me, still trying to make our inseparable lips melt into one. And then, he was barely inside of me, pushing his hardness into me slowly and gently until all of him crowded inside me.

I froze as I felt the pressure, the foreignness of him in me and I closed my eyes, taking in what we had done, reveling in every sensation. He didn't move. We stayed there as close as we possibly could be, completely inside of one another with our pieces fitting together perfectly. He smiled.

"You feel so fucking good around me," he said. His lips brushed across my cheek and he slowly moved in and out, making sure I was okay. His thrusts slightly picked up in speed. His low moans accompanied mine. When he came, Finn pressed his lips onto mine, and I dug my fingernails into his back and pulled him closer to me. Sweet satisfaction crossed his face, and then I felt him pulse inside of me as he filled me with himself. The love, the adoration, the way Finn was careful with me, made me feel no regret. I wanted to close my eyes and replay this moment a million times.

Pure contentment covered my face and body as he nuzzled his nose with mine, kissed me until my lips felt sore, and lay on top of me stroking his fingers through my hair, telling me how beautiful I was until our bodies became sticky with sweat. There was no roughness, although my hips, legs, and insides were sore from stretching and moving in ways they hadn't managed before. I didn't instantly come when he was inside of me like in the movies. There was no bleeding, and I felt no different than I had before sex. Well other than the growing admiration and feelings I had for the beautiful man that lay beside me. Honestly, I halfway expected a fairy sex mother to pop up and give me a no-longer-a-virgin badge.

Then my mind went to Luke and guilt blanketed me. Guilt for being such a bitch and for giving something away that he thought belonged to him. I couldn't think about it. I wouldn't even know how to begin to tell him. I would be the reason he was hurt. Fuck. I pushed it out of my thoughts. Being with Finn like this coaxed me to forget it all: Luke, my parents, and Abbie.

I squeezed my legs together feeling the soreness and rolled over as he held me in his arms, ran his fingers through my hair, and kissed my forehead with his pouty lips.

Finn and I stared at one another with stupid grins on our faces in pure bliss of being with one another in the most powerful, emotionally, physical way possible.

We were there, together, and he had taken what I always knew belonged to him: my virginity.

"I think I may be in love," I said as I trailed my fingers across his stomach muscles and tucked my head into his arms.

"I know…"

He kissed my eyelids and cheeks, and finished with my mouth and a smile.

"And you're fired."

Finnley

Epilogue

Honey-brown eyes looked up at me like I had rescued them from evil. Urging, begging me to give all of me to her: heart, body, and soul.

Every inch of her body latched to mine, unwavering, refusing to let go, trying to swallow me whole. She panted and moaned, and her body begged while her fingers scratched down my back, leaving stinging pleasurable scrapes. With her tongue in my mouth, she opened her legs wide, stretching herself, trying to swallow every inch of me. Then I stared into her eyes until she contained all of my length and girth. She sighed and smiled with pleasure, and the sound of my name releasing from her lips combined with the nibbling on my ear pulled me closer to her soul. She ended where I began. I was fucking weak for her touch and couldn't take it anymore.

We continued to mend our bodies together, moving slowly with the rhythms of one another until I filled her with every bit of me, thrusting the powerful orgasm deep inside of her. She smiled with pure ecstasy as she ran her fingers through my hair and pulled me closer to her mouth, desperate to kiss me soft and sweet. I nuzzled her neck, kissed her cheeks, her hair, every part of her that I could.

The most beautiful woman in the world gave me her virginity, which was so sacred, so pure that every emotion inside of me sprung to life. I would treasure that moment until the day I died. And although I was there with her, completely locked together, I wanted more of her, every inch of her skin, and mouth, and cheeks. I needed her like air. I was afraid it would come to that.

My dick wanted her every time she was around. The smell of her body, sweet and clean like mountain flowers, mixed with her signature I-want-to-fuck-you look, drove me insane. Blue balls had been my middle name since I met her, and finally, finally, we were together, making love in my bed. Both wishing it would never end, whispering sweet nothings to one another, speaking words that didn't need to be spoken. I expected to wake up with a wad in my underwear, but this was no dream. The pain of her bites and nails would linger tomorrow, and I was happy for it.

Don't judge me.

I tried to get over her. I tried to fuck and play with other women. I even forced myself away from her for weeks, but it never worked. Faking every fuck I had left me feeling ashamed and angry with myself. After sex, I felt like a giant pussy. I knew it boiled down to Jennifer. I was weak for her, and until I had her, nothing would quench my thirst. Her virginity was mine for the taking.

Fuck my little brother, Luke. He was in over his head when he went for Jennifer, and I wouldn't have it. She was an Elite. Love was prohibited, but when I saw the way she looked at him like she had once looked at me, I couldn't handle it. I had to know it wasn't real and that Luke was just an assignment. I couldn't stand the thought of him fucking her senseless and wearing her on his arm like a trophy, one that he paid for. I may be a bastard, but I don't like having my nose rubbed in my own shit.

Chemistry between two people cannot be created. I experienced fatal attraction the first time I laid eyes on her in the lobby of the Bellagio while I was out recruiting for the Elite. I felt like a predator, like an asshole, for barging in on her bathing. But the manager wanted to fuck me, so she willingly gave me anything I wanted, even the key to Jennifer's room. I didn't know what I would do when I entered, but I had to find out. Sometimes Lady Luck got drunk with lust and became a crazy bitch.

Body propped back, perfect perky tits, and an amazing body waited for me in the bathtub, and if I wouldn't have been so shocked by her nakedness, I may have asked her on a date. But her aim with that damn shampoo bottle was impeccable. I didn't expect a firecracker behind that womanly figure. Texans. Afterwards, I contemplated knocking on her door and fessing up. I imagined telling her how I was immediately attracted to her, but I what kind of creepy fuck would I have looked like? Instead, I paid for her room and wine, played it off as a mistake, wrote her an apology letter before the guilt consumed me, and then got the hell out of there.

A little piece of me died inside when she signed the official contract. Jesse would always find a way to be a cock-block, and to make sure everything was legal. But Jennifer was different. Not some whore that I would fuck and leave. The intentions were never to sell her, or give her away, but to learn more about her wants, sexual desires, and to see if there were sparks.

She needed a job. She was a risk taker.

The Elite was the bait, and when she hooked on, I reeled her in.

I tried to push her away by being an asshole.

But it was never enough.

I found myself running back to her.

Dreaming of her. Wanting every bit of her.

She made me fucking crazy.

The look on her face when I gave her the pleasure of her first orgasm made me want to scoop her in my arms and kiss her, and tell her how fucking beautiful she was. She wanted to be fucked... several times, mind you, and I wanted to fuck her, but no matter how much of a dick I was in the past, I couldn't be the present day man who stole something so precious. I wanted her to make the choice to give herself to me and be sure it was the right one. I didn't want to be a random fuck in the heat of the moment. Funny isn't?

Truth be known, I was fucking scared. Scared to be with her because it became too personal, and I was afraid to lose myself.

I knew in the basement—when she said she wanted me to feel the way she did—that I would have to void the contract, and tell her it was a mistake. But it became too serious. It all happened too fast, and I was in too deep. I couldn't stop with the fucking mind games that continued to spin out of control. It became a way for me to be around her, to demand her to do what I said, and for me to know that she wanted me even though I had to push her away each time. Just like the asshole she thought I was, I needed my ego stroked as much as my cock. The last few months, I discovered how far she would go, how many games she would play to get with me and then over me. The games, the endless cycle of fucking games. Somehow I got lost in them with her. We were tangled in the same web, neither one able to break free or even wanting to.

She became my drug, and I constantly needed my fix. So many times I wanted to lay her down and fuck her the way she wanted, and then whisper dirty things in her ear as I made her come, and then fuck her again. But each time, I pulled away. But still I needed to know I was the man she dreamed about at night. I needed to know that when she pleasured herself, my face was the one she saw. Tonight, I knew.

Jennifer Downs, the virgin that stayed, was the only woman that could bring me to my knees with a single look. She was a strong lioness that constantly attacked me with her beauty and smarts, and bitchy attitude. The only woman that made me feel since the loss of my wife. The only person who validated that love still existed in my world.

Lying there with her, pleasuring her, becoming one with her completed me, and I knew that I couldn't live without her. At that moment, denying I had fallen in love with her wasn't an option. Not once she poured herself into me, gave me every piece of her body and soul, and mixed with mine.

Although love is precious and love is kind, it is still forbidden if you are an Elite.

Firing Jennifer Downs was my only option.

Options: we had those now.

Content

Weak for Him
Weakness - 1
by
Lyra Parish

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

Twenty-four

Twenty-five

Twenty-six

Epilogue