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“Where are you really from?”
I glare at him. “Why?”
“I’m asking.”
“You gonna look me up? You that bored?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s none of your business. Can I go now?”
“I’d be disappointed if you did.”
So that makes two of us.
Still, it’s not like he’s giving me much to work with. I study him, waiting for anything. His smooth, pale skin contains zero visible pores. Not a one. His coloring is aristocratic. Dark curls, pale brow, navy blue eyes, and almost too-pink lips. Snow White, if Snow White were a spoiled Manhattan socialite—with a cock.
“You’re not pissing me off today. At least, not much more than baseline. You’re almost…pathetic,” I say. Coming up here was a waste of time.
“Does hurting me turn you on?” he asks.
“No,” I say, but that’s not the complete truth. It doesn’t make me want to furiously jerk off or anything like it does him, but what I did to him those two times definitely got some juices flowing. And I like seeing my marks on him. I like knowing I put them there.
He sinks to his knees in front of me, head bowed. “Freshen me up,” he whispers.
I take a step away. “What?”
“I need new bruises. These are fading. Freshen them up.”
“You’re sick.”
“You don’t know the half of it, Jack. The worst part is that your being here is making me hard, and if you don’t want me to report you for assault, you’ll fucking do what I tell you. How difficult is it? You hate me. I can smell it on you. Give me what you think I deserve and ignore the fact that I do get off on it.”
I consider his threat. It’s a decent one. He’s got the proof. The witnesses. He might even be filming this. Who the fuck knows how well this apartment is wired?
Rich people are wacko about their security systems.
“What if I’m not in the mood?” I ask, even as the power he’s handing over to me fills some of the emptier spaces in my soul.
“Want me to call you some names first? Insult your profession? Your family maybe? What’s your mom like? Is she hot?”
I smirk, though he can’t see me now that I’ve circled around to stand behind him. Ignoring the question, I ask the more important one—to my mind anyway. “You’re not gay, are you?” I don’t want him getting any ideas.
He huffs a mirthless laugh. “No.”
“I don’t give a shit if you are, you know? I can’t fucking stand you either way. Just wondering what it is you’re getting off on exactly.”
“You ever been choked while you’re jerking off?”
I huff. “No.”
“Then you wouldn’t understand.”
“What makes you think I wanna do you any favors?”
“Well, it’s kinda like I said, Jack. I know some powerful people who wouldn’t take kindly to a doorman assaulting me.”
“But you want me to.”
