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Tiffany nodded, not taking her eyes off me. “That’s right. Though I closed on my place in the city last week. I decided to come on down to Southport and get to know the place.” She finally turned back to Jeremy and the others, her smile oozing in charm. “And I must say I love it. I think I’m going to be very happy here.”
My hands curled into fists, the nails biting into flesh.
“Ms. Hardwell was just telling us that she knew you from law school, Rob. Says you worked for her for a while. You never mentioned that’s how you knew her,” Lena said.
Tiffany put a hand on her arm. “Oh sweetheart, please call me Tiffany. Ms. Hardwell makes me feel positively ancient.” She laughed and at one time I would have practically come in pants at the sound. Now I just wanted her to get the hell out of my office.
But Tiffany would take her time. She was used to things happening on her terms. This was a woman who got what she wanted. In all things.
Which most likely explained why she was here.
Because I was the one thing she hadn’t been able to control.
**
“Robbie, what are you doing here?” Tiffany opened the door wearing a see-through robe, her tits on full display. Who had she been expecting?
“I need to talk to you.” I braced myself against the doorframe. I had walked across town. My hair was plastered to my forehead from the rain, my clothes were drenched, but I didn’t care.
Because I was pissed off.
Tiffany, as if sensing my mood, opened the door, letting me in. “Can I get you something to drink? A beer? Some wine—?”
“Why did you go to my mother’s house?” I demanded, cutting her off.
Tiffany opened up the small cocktail refrigerator beneath her bar and pulled out a small bottle of vodka and poured some into a glass. “Is that why you’re here? Come on now, it’s nothing to be so upset about.”
“I told you I wanted out and you decide to go visit my god damned mother, Tiffany! That’s a huge fucking deal” I was shouting, I couldn’t help it. “She was asking me questions I sure as hell couldn’t answer. So, I’ll ask you again, why the hell did you go see her?” I was shaking with fury. I wasn’t sure I could hold it together. I had been working for Tiffany for the last year. Over that time, I had been able to buy my mom a new house and pay Sam’s residential fees. But I had also had to lose a part of my soul in the process.
As time passed and I became more and more entrenched in Tiffany’s world, the more unhappy I became. Tiffany kept all her ‘boys’ on a tight leash, but it seemed I was different. Because while she pimped me out to the highest bidder, she still wanted me for herself. And it was that emotional minefield that I couldn’t handle.
In the beginning, I thought I loved her. She taught me how to use my body to make her feel intense pleasure and she gave me her body in return. She showered me with gifts. She bought me an apartment only a street away, so we were always “close to each other” she said.
She demanded all of me. My heart. My body. My soul. I had nothing left for me.
I came to a breaking point last week when she asked me to take care of a “friend” of hers. She said this friend deserved only the best, and she knew I’d be perfect. Tiffany fucked my brains out then sent me off to fuck her friend. Somewhere from point A to point B I had a Come to Jesus moment. I didn’t want to do it anymore.
It was one thing to take my clothes off at The Landing Strip. I still enjoyed the adoration from women when they saw my body. It filled me with a confidence I couldn’t get anywhere else. It was a high that I would always be chasing.
It was the sex that was destroying me. Because I couldn’t reconcile the fact that this woman I had grown to love was sending me out to screw other women. It wasn’t empowering. It was debilitating.
I had lost control of my life. Of my body. Of my goddamn feelings. And I knew Tiffany didn’t give a shit about any of that. This wasn’t about me. Or her and me together. This was Tiffany Hardwell’s show, and I was merely a player.
Those days were over.
So, I told her I wanted out. That I didn’t want to sleep with other women. It was then I saw a side of her that I had never seen before.
“You don’t get a say in that, Robbie,” She had snarled, gripping my neck with her hand, her long nails piercing my skin, drawing blood. “You will do what I say. Don’t think you have a voice here. You belong to me. All of you.” She had kissed me then and because I was a horny idiot, I let her shut me up with sex.
