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“Why me?” I’m surprised it took her this long to ask.
“Why not you?” She gives me a seriously look. “Honestly, you are one of the only women I see on a consistent basis who doesn’t work for me in some capacity. And in sticking with honesty,” I say, in part to ease my own conscience on the fact that I am bald-faced lying to her right now, “you’re a young woman who works in a coffee shop. I assume you need money. I’m sorry if that assumption makes me sound like an elitist pig.”
Lying because I chose her after stalking her for months.
Lying because I, in fact, know she needs money because if she doesn’t accept my proposal, I’ll make sure she has no other option but to.
“Right.” She runs her top teeth over her bottom lip like she’s thinking it through. In one motion, she stands and places the contract back on my desk. “While I can see that I would be a good person to approach with this kind of scenario, being young, somewhat naïve, and yes, you’re right, pretty much broke, I have more dignity than selling myself for a million dollars, Mr. Knight. So no, thank you.” She turns on her foot and heads toward the door but stops. “Actually, I have no idea where I’m going and I need a ride home.”
I sit in actual surprise for a few seconds. I guess I assumed that someone in her position would jump at the opportunity to walk away with that kind of money.
“Stella.” I clear my throat, narrowing my eyes on her to convey my seriousness. “This isn’t a trap and I will give you my word that there is no hidden agenda here, no plan to force you into bed or?—”
“It’s not that,” she interrupts me. “Hell”—she shrugs—“I probably would have gone to bed with you today had you offered. And yes, I realize you have no interest in me like that; you made that abundantly clear earlier.” She flinches like she didn’t mean to admit that out loud. “I mean, it’s—I would have been more open to a one-night stand or a fling with you than this. I might not have fairy-tale dreams about love and marriage, but I know that if I ever do decide to get married, it will be for love. I’m not that jaded yet.”
I stare back at her. “Five million,” I say confidently, expecting her to run back and grab the pen from my desk but she shakes her head.
“It feels icky, Mr. Knight, like I’m selling myself, and that is a pretty low ask of someone just because they’re poorer than you.”
“I’ll give you a ride home.” I want to hang my head and apologize to her, but the reality is, my selfish need for her to eventually agree outweighs my sympathy. Instead, I turn around and head toward the garage.
We walk back through the halls of my house in silence, only the sounds of our shoes echoing off the marble floor. She walks a few feet in front of me and I adjust my gaze to watch her ass move beneath her jeans. Maybe it’s her outright rejection of me or the fact that now that she said no, I could allow myself to fuck her. I have the strongest urge to grab her, pull her to me, and take her mouth.
Would she push me away or would she grab my shirt and pull me toward her like she can’t get enough? The way I imagine I would be if I were to let myself touch her. Frenzied. My hands tangled in her dark curls, the sound of her moans against my tongue as my hands slide over her hips to grab her perky ass.
My cock strains against my slacks, my hand reaching down to adjust myself before she notices. Her admission about a one-night stand pops back into my head when the idea hits me that maybe I should seduce her; maybe this will be the way to convince her. I reach my hand forward, softly pressing my fingers against her waist as I guide her down the other hall toward the garage.
She tenses, turning her head slightly to glance at me in her peripheral. “Allow me.” I step even closer to her, my chest bumping against her arm as I reach around her to open the door to the garage.
We walk down the steps toward the Bentley we were driving earlier. Only this time, I open the front passenger side for her to get in.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” I say the words low, hushed near her ear as I usher her into the car. I see a slight shiver run over her body. She keeps her eyes forward, her hands tightly clasped in her lap as I pull the car from the garage. “Where do you live?”
“I live over near b—actually”—she taps around on her phone before turning it to face me, an address typed into her maps app—“could you take me here? It’s my friend’s house.”
“Boyfriend?” Something I failed to ask before propositioning her with marriage. Maybe he’s the reason.
“No.” She shakes her head. “Just a friend.” She turns to look back out the window, remaining in silence the rest of the ride until I pull up outside of her friend’s apartment.
“Look, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable or offended you. I thought being very straightforward about my intentions would make things less weird, but I get the sense I was wrong?”
She glances my way, a slight smile forming. “No, it’s… okay. I mean, it’s certainly a very strange request and honestly probably one of those things I’ll remember for the rest of my life, but it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean for it to be demeaning.”
“Am I still allowed to come into the coffee shop or will that be awkward for you?” I flash my most charming smile, reaching out to run my finger over the back of her hand. I hear a sharp intake of breath and once again, I’m fighting to hold myself back from kissing her. But this, this isn’t real and this can’t happen. I can’t get distracted by lust if she does end up agreeing to this deal. The last thing I need is to fuck things up by bringing sex into this deal.
“No, it won’t be awkward. Maybe we can actually be friends now.”
“Friends,” I repeat the word back to her, dragging my thumb slowly over the back of her hand one more time before releasing my seat belt and stepping out of the car to open her door.
“You don’t need to walk me—” she says as she steps out of the car and stands up.
“Would you have said yes?” I interrupt, my body so close it has her pinned against the car. “If I had asked you on a date instead, would you have said yes?”
She looks up at me without hesitation. “Yes. But you wouldn’t have asked because?—”
“Don’t say it again.” I place my finger against her pillowy lips, her little smirk slowly fading into a heavy-lidded lustful gaze. I should pull my hand away, but I don’t. Her lips slowly part until the tip of my finger rests between them. I feel the wet tip of her tongue graze my finger as she slowly bites down on my flesh. I stare at her for a few seconds, questioning what the hell I’m doing and where this is going. Maybe it’s just a fucked-up, selfish desire to know that she wants me too. I blink, breaking the spell and pulling my finger from her lips.
