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“Courtesy, then.”
His eyes spark with heat. “Have you ever tried it?”
I blink. “Tried what?”
Malik’s hands are in his pockets, and if anyone looked in from outside right now, his stance would seem entirely casual. In this room? It’s anything but. The tension between us is tangible. A barely-there smirk appears on his lips and he whispers. “Surrendering.”
My heart kicks into high gear, and I fight my instinct to step back. I won’t show weakness. Not to him. “No.”
“I think you’d enjoy it.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
A casual shrug. “I know that for the next three weeks you’re working for me. I know that you’re young and curious, and that your favorite book of mine is the one where the heroine finds herself tied up and fucked to screaming orgasms. Multiple times.”
“Good for her.” My mouth is dry. Is it hot in here?
Malik is studying me. “You’ve pictured it. Haven’t you.” It’s not a question. When I don’t answer, he takes a step that closes the distance between us so there’s now barely an inch between our bodies. “You’ve imagined what it would be like to have leather wrapped around your wrists and ankles and your limbs bound so that you could barely move. Knowing that he could fuck you anyway he likes.”
“Or,” he tilts his head, “was it the next day? When he chains her under the table and she eats nothing but his cum for breakfast?”
My whole body is on fire and I’m just as incapable of moving as if what he’s saying is true and I’m completely locked in chains. Slowly, I look at him. Wet my lips because they’re so dry. “I’d like to start work on the book tomorrow, Mr. Ellis, so please give me some information about the plot so I know where to start.”
He hesitates like he expected me to buckle to my knees. But I didn't. He smirks and retreats to his chair, acting cool as ice. “I’ll send you a copy of the outline, but that’s it. You won’t be working on this anywhere else but with me. I expect you to be at my apartment tomorrow by ten.”
“What?”
“That’s the way it is. Do you have any idea the length that some people will go to to get a Malik Ellis manuscript early? I’m not taking any chances. I have a spare laptop you can use. But that laptop doesn’t leave my home.”
I cross my arms, the trance that he wove over me fading. “So what? I’m just a prisoner in your house until I finish the book?”
“Feel free to sleep at your own place. Or, lord, do you live with your mother still?"
I narrow my eyes. "No. I don't."
"Don't look at me like that, Erin. I don’t know you, and in this case, I need to be safer than sorry. I won’t apologize for it.”
Though I don’t like it, I actually understand. More than once in the past few years, authors have had early manuscripts stolen and leaked. It ruined their sales. Given that Malik is already on the edge with his publisher, having that happen would be a disaster. “Fine. Where is it?”
He scribbles down the address on a piece of paper in the little pad sitting on the conference room table. “That’s the code that will unlock the elevator.”
“And how do you know I won’t just sell the address and let someone come steal the manuscript from you directly?”
“Because the security in my building is getting a picture of you,” he says, lifting his phone and snapping one quickly. “And anyone that’s not you won’t even get close enough to the elevator to use that code.”
“Smart.”
“If I’m not, I wouldn’t be able to stop the hordes of beautiful women trying to get in and make those fantasies come true.” He spread his hands like he couldn’t help it. I roll my eyes, but deep down I feel a weird flash of jealousy at the notion of women flocking to his bed.
He slides the pad of paper across the table to me. “Give me your email for the outline.”
I write it down, trying to steady the slight shake in my hands. I’m still a little shaken by the heat in his words and the fact that he’s gone from accusing me of being a gold-digging hack to acting like he wants to lay me out on this conference table and fuck me senseless.
He glances at the paper when I slide it back. “Perfect. You’ll get a copy of the outline by this evening.”
“Okay.”
We both hesitate. There’s not really anything left to say. Malik stands. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Erin Bailey.” He’s smirking as he leaves.
I don’t move until he’s out of sight and then I sink into a chair, knees weak. Holy fuck. What even was that?
No matter what, the next three weeks certainly aren’t going to be easy.
