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Chapter Thirteen
Charlize
The way this man holds himself — I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m so hot for him that I feel dampness between my legs. That’s what this man does to me.
If I put the fact aside that he’s Alistair Devereaux, I’d be climbing him like a tree. No questions asked.
He’s gorgeous, for one. The way he took charge the other night still has my head spinning.
Obviously that’s what he likes in the bedroom; to eat pussy. I mean, he said so himself.
I could eat this sweet pussy all night.
The reenactment in my head still has me seeing stars.
Alistair in a suit has nothing on Alistair half naked. I haven’t seen his top half because he never got around to taking his shirt off while he was ramming his huge cock down my throat. But if it’s anything like the rest of him, I know I won’t be disappointed.
There’s something about how sure he is about every damn thing. His commanding presence. The way he pretends this attraction is one-sided and I’m some little girl who doesn’t know any better. It’s amusing. And it also makes me want to surrender to him. It makes me want to beg him to take me, because for some reason I can’t explain, I need him.
I need Alistair Devereaux to do what he promised; look after me and ruin me for anyone else.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Charlize. I’m not playing any games.” The words come out, but I know I’ve caught his interest. The man hasn’t been able to take his eyes off me all night.
“Fine. Since you don’t want me screwing other men for money, you have to compensate me somehow.”
He stares at me. “Compensate you?”
“Yes. I’m not a child anymore, Alistair. If you think you can tell me what to do then you’re right, for a price that is.”
He frowns. I enjoy it when he’s frustrated. And if I’m as much of a brat as he says I am, he would’ve done something about it by now.
“What are you getting at?”
“Oh, I think you know.”
“I’m not paying you for sex.”
“Who said anything about sex?”
“But you would like me to pay, is that it?”
I give him a small smile. Shifting in my seat I feel the racing of my heart. It’s warm in here and I pull back a little to pull my jumper over my head. I fan my hair back off my face as our eyes meet again. I’ve no idea what he really thinks of me, but if he thinks I might squeal to the press, then he’s willing to shell something out. Even if just to make him squirm, it’ll be worth it.
I know that I may not be Alistair’s biggest fan, but the arsehole is rich. And after what he put me through —and my shitty family, unfortunately he’s now wearing the brunt of it.
“Well, I could work for you.” In actual fact, I have very little idea of what he does now. But back in the day, he was working for his father’s advertising agency. Judging by the Porsche he drove me home in, and his swanky townhouse in South Kensington, it leaves me to believe that he’s done pretty well for himself.
And since he’s always telling me that he feels so guilty and horrible for leaving me, I figure why not make him pay?
While I don’t relish the idea of working for him, he’s probably dull enough to pay me a ridiculous sum to quit the bar — not to mention my new sideline.
“Do you have any office skills?” He says it like he truly believes that I don’t.
The fact that I haven’t had any experience in an office, doesn’t even come into the equation. I can do anything that I set my mind to. I’ve always been able to adapt to any situation, any job. And if I can serve rude, annoying people in hospitality, then I can sure as shit work for Alistair Devereaux. It couldn’t be that hard.
Then again, I could always be his sugar baby.
Wouldn’t that make his skin crawl? I smile at the idea.
