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“What are you willing to sacrifice, Miss Rochere?” I asked as my hand fell away from the back of her head.
She cleared her throat. “Not my sister’s business, not my family, and not my career. But, outside of those things? Everything’s negotiable.”
“Everything?”
She hesitated for only a moment, “Yes.”
“You know, I find it really interesting that you decided to… perch yourself beneath me.”
I towered over her as my knee kicked her legs open.
“And what do you think you’re do—”
“Negotiating.” I answered, “Should I stop?”
When she said nothing, I slid my hand into her soft tendrils and gripped tightly. “Good. Sit still.”
She froze as I stepped between her legs and waited, watching her every move, every breath to see if this was a line that wouldn’t be crossed for her. I’d never touched an unwilling woman and I didn’t intend to start now. Men like that disgusted me. But I knew from our first encounter that she wanted me. She just hated herself for being a cliché.
When she jutted her chin defiantly at me, I continued on. I stepped closer, feeling her heat bombarding my growing cock. It had been a long while since I’d entertained a woman with a bit of lusciousness to her body. Most women in my circle kept themselves thin as a rail with peas and salads and trail mix. Nothing more than skeletons with personalities and loose pussies from all the dick they gobbled down in an attempt to snatch up a man who’d pay for them to have ass implants to make up for the fact that their fathers called them “fat” most of their lives.
I wanted to watch her writhe while my toys invaded her every orifice. She was the perfect mix of everything I hadn’t had in so long. Hadn’t had, but desperately needed.
“Mr. Drake,” Eden said breathlessly.
I tilted my head. “You couldn’t pay enough to stop me.”
She swallowed hard. “Which is why I’m here to negotiate. My sister’s business means everything to her. It’s everything she’s worked for in her life. And her happiness means everything to me. I’m telling you, that boy from the party? He’s not guilty. I’d bet my career on it.”
“All four years of it, I presume.”
She pulled away from my grip. “I know when someone’s guilty of sexual assault. I get more cases of it than you’d ever imagine. And that boy isn’t guilty. Not by a longshot.”
I reached out and slid my thumb along her carotid, watching as her cheeks flushed for me. She was so easy to get a rise out of; so easy to manipulate. Almost too easy. I bet there was even more bite beneath that stuffed up professional mask she always wore.
“You’ll do well,” I murmured.
“Do well for what?”
I drew in a quick breath and took a step back. “I have a few trips coming up, Miss Rochere. They were supposed to be taken with an ex, but you’ll do.”
She scoffed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’ll come out of town with me to Italy, you’ll do as I say when I say it, and you won’t ask questions. That’s my price.”
“That’s your price.”
“Among other things.”
She stood to her feet. “So, let me get this straight: in order for you to back off my sister for good, all I have to do is come to Italy with you?”
I nodded. “And do as I say, when I say it. You won’t ask questions, you’ll keep your mouth shut, and if necessary, you’ll strip for me. It won’t be the only trip you accompany me on, of course. I have at least three on my docket. My social calendar stays busy, and until I find a more suitable replacement for who stands at my side, you’ll do just fine.”
“I see why you get your nickname now,” she shook her head and turned toward my office door. “But instead of Devil, it should be Dickhead.”
“I do what I can, Miss Rochere.”
“Good luck with life, Mr. Drake,” she said as she started flouncing away from me.
