Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
I sat back into the seat of the cab, head still spinning. I wish I could say that getting out of the store helped, but now in the tiny backseat, I found I needed air even more and rolled down my window, letting the frosty wind hit my face. It did feel better, I could feel the blood in my brain begin to cool a bit, my lungs expanding with relief.
“What was that?” I turned towards the big man, keeping my voice steady, nerves calm. “What happened back there?”
And the big man just looked at me, amused.
“You know, usually when a woman receives gifts, she’s ecstatic and gleeful,” he said mildly. “Ready to do whatever her man wants.”
But that was totally unhelpful, so I tried again.
“I told you in the store,” I said in a low voice so the cabbie couldn’t hear, “you don’t have to buy me. This stuff,” I said, pointing to the blue bags at his feet, “isn’t necessary. I’m yours, with or without the baubles.”
And the big man’s blue eyes grew dark instantly, his big form still.
“I know baby,” he ground out, gaze seizing mine. “I know you’re mine with or without the accoutrements, but I wanted to see you in them,” he said. “You deserve it, you belong to me, and heck, I’ve got the money.”
But I sighed again. This wasn’t about money, not even close.
“But why?” I asked. “We’ve only being seeing each other two days,” I blushed. “I’m just visiting for Thanksgiving break. And I’m your son’s girlfriend,” I reminded, although the words were as sour as a lemon on my tongue, making my lips purse involuntarily. “It’s just temporary.”
The big man looked out the window then, not meeting my eyes.
“Maybe it is,” he rumbled, taking in the swell of passerby, the throngs of people out doing their shopping. “But even if it is, what I know is that it means something,” he ground out. “It’s been fucking amazing, little girl, I haven’t felt this way in so long and it’s the real thing. Trust me,” he rasped. “I’m a forty-five year old man, I know when the real thing comes along.”
And I colored then. Real as in “dating,” kind of real? As in “relationship,” kind of real? I wanted to talk about it more, delve deeper, but at that moment we pulled up to the apartment building and the doorman stepped forward to open the car door. But the conversation wasn’t over yet. Once we were inside the apartment, I turned to him once more.
“What do you mean, ‘real’?” I asked again slowly. “Do you mean that I’m more than a houseguest, more than you know, just a friend?”
The big man threw his head back and positively roared with laughter.
“Of course you’re more than a friend,” he said, amused. “Unless you want to be friends who fuck? Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? That kind of thing?”
I colored at the rawness, the disgusting terms, but shook my head.
“Is that what we are?” I asked slowly. “Is that all I am to you?”
And the big man snorted, exasperated, even as his eyes caressed my breasts and hips, my cunt going warm inside.
“Naw, of course not,” he ground out, stripping me with his eyes, like he could see through my clothes with x-ray vision. “But later, baby, later, because I just spent tens of thousands, honey,” he said, voice silky. “And I want to see some of this jewelry on you,” he said, pulling out the blue boxes, undoing the bows, and lifting a giant emerald to the light. “You know, most women would love to own this,” he mused more to himself than anything. “And yet you,” he said, “are all about talk and not about jewels. We’re gonna have to fix that,” he said, amused. “But for now, come on baby, out of your clothes, let me see how this looks on you.”
And I frowned at him, eyes still serious.
“No, I’m not getting undressed, we’re having a discussion about what’s going on about us, between us.”
But before I could utter another word, I was hoisted onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as Rob strode confidently down the hallway and into the master bedroom, depositing me onto the bed.
“I hear what you’re saying little girl,” he said, voice still silky, eyes gleaming. “But I want to see this necklace on you naked and when I say ‘now,’ that means ‘now,’” he ground out, body massive, imposing, looming over me.
And for the umpteenth time, I realized how commanding he was, how alpha, how people bent to his whims, doing as he commanded. I’d seen it with the saleslady, with the barista, even on the phone as he chatted to nameless associates. I saw how the world accommodated Robert Martin, how the big man was so charismatic, so commanding, persuasive, and alpha that everything and everyone rearranged themselves for him. And I was no exception because I was completely under his sway as well, his hands molding me, those lips, those blue eyes binding me tight, completely under his thrall. I should have been afraid or even offended but instead, warmth suffused my form, body going limp, warm with need and lust. Was this supposed to be happening? I was an independent woman after all and supposed to make my own way in the world, carve a path for myself, stand on my own two feet. But instead, there was this alpha male towering over me, eating me with his eyes, and I was oddly comfortable with it. Instead of feeling like a victim, it felt right, that doing things for him, with him, for him, was right and what I wanted too.