She already knew I would win because she was slippery against my fingers, warm and ready. Her body made arrangements without consulting her pride. If I let things continue from here, this night would go somewhere she wasn’t prepared for. I would take my time with her and make sure she understood exactly who I was.
I pulled my finger out and thrust it in again, just enough for her to feel what I was choosing not to give her, then pulled back entirely. “You win.”
She opened her eyes, confusion moving across her face. I let her win deliberately. But I would fuck her before she left my world. I would taste her, take my time with every part of her, and it would be soon.
“What?” she said.
“So,” I ran my fingers lightly along her neck. “What do you want? Make it quick before I change my mind.”
“You—” she stepped away, and I let her go. She looked flushed, caught between relief and embarrassment. “I win?”
“You weren’t wet enough.” I kept my expression clean. “I like it dripping, easy to slide straight in.” The way she would have been, given another thirty seconds. But she didn’t need that detail. “If you have nothing to ask, I have business to get backto.”
I turned to leave.
“Wait.” Her voice came quickly. “Okay. Fine.”
There it was. I stopped and turned back to her. She grabbed the dress and held it against her chest, covering what had been in my hands a minute ago, what I could still take if I wanted.
“I know I’m not your type, and you’re using me. I’m aware of what rich people do and—”
She stopped herself.
She was right about one part. Using her, yes. But knowing what rich people did, that, she didn’t. She might have observed and assumed a lot, but the reality was different.
“You can use me. Take me to events, whatever you need for the business, I’ll do it. I don’t care what it involves.” She breathed. “And I know you’ll want to marry someone who actually fits into your world. I can help you find her. We will end the fake marriage quietly.” She exhaled. “Since people will ask questions, you can tell them I cheated. Announce it publicly. That way, your reputation will stay clean, and you will move on without any damage.”
So she had mapped the whole thing out. The entry, utility, exit strategy, and even the narrative, I would use to walk away from it without losing anything. She handed me a clean ending before I even finished using the beginning.
Did she know about the engagement I already called off?
My eyes narrowed. She thought this through with more care than most men I sat across from at boardroom tables. And she will let her own name take the damage at the end. Cheater? She offered that word for herself without flinching.
Whatever she was about to ask me for had to be huge. You didn’t offer yourself as a sacrifice, hand a man your reputation to spend however he liked, unless what you needed was worth the cost.
I smiled and shoved my hands in my pockets.
“Is that a good smile?” she asked.
“You tell me.” I closed the distance between us. “It’s interesting that you think you know what my type of woman is.”
“I mean, the woman from the event earlier,” she said. “It was obvious you liked her. And honestly, you two looked good together.”
Isabella Duval? This girl was standing in my bedroom in her underwear, holding a dress against her chest, and insulting me.
“I see.”
“So we can sign a contract. We keep this up, and then I will help you find someone to properly replace me. And then you will announce the divorce, however it works best for you.” She paused, doing the calculation out loud. “A three-month contract, right? No, people won’t buy it. Let’s say, six months?” She hissed. “That’s a lot, though.”
Pure nonsense.
“What do you want?” I asked.
She caught the shift in my tone and her shoulders pulled in slightly. “For you to agree.”
“Agree to what exactly. You’ve said a great deal of nothing, and I haven’t grabbed a single thing you actually want from any of it. Should I leave?”
“It wasn’t nothing.” Her brows drew together. “It’s a good deal if you actually think about it.”
