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“I need to let Jessie know that I might be—”
“Not my problem.”
Gritting my teeth, I stomped angrily after Louis. We went in through the lobby. The man at the front, sitting behind the check in desk, nodded at us, but I made a point of keeping my head down. I didn’t want anyone knowing I was here.
Louis led me to the elevator and pressed a number. All the while, I sulked. Jessie was going to be worried and then she was going to ask questions. Like where the hell was I. Shooting daggers at Louis’s back, I thought of all the nasty things that might happen to him in his lifetime. Like baldness. Or losing his teeth. Maybe getting a really bad bout of dysentery.
Asshole, I thought.
“So, is today a spectator’s sport?” I asked him with as much venom as I could muster.
He just grunted.
The elevator pinged and the doors opened. I followed Louis as he led the way down the hall to a door. Using the key he already had on him, he opened it up and pushed right in. He closed it behind him then and stood with his back to it.
Ever the guard dog.
I stood in the middle of the room—which was admittedly nice, though it had lost its charm for me—and waited for what would come next. I didn’t have to wait long.
Ethan walked out of the bathroom, which billowed out steam behind him. His dark hair was wet, clinging to his shiny skin. His muscles were slick with the shower he had to have just taken and his skin was a healthy pink color that made him look younger than he was.
He clutched a towel in his hand, but there wasn’t one wrapped around his waist. Which meant his semi-hard cock was hanging free between his legs.
“Diana, good. I need a decent release.”
I shuddered and told myself it was from disgust.
When I just stood there, Ethan tossed his towel aside and waved a hand at my body. “Get to it already. I’m not interested in looking at you clothed.”
“If you’re only interested in looking, why not get a Playboy?” I asked him snidely.
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Haven’t you heard? Playboy’s all about the articles now.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Why don’t you just get yourself a girlfriend, then you won’t have to worry about all this…messiness.”
For just a second, his expression went blank and his body went stiff. He seemed to be lost somewhere else, caught up in a past life. When he came back, his tone was a little off as he answered, “Girlfriends are messy. This makes sense. Easy, clean, no strings.”
I snorted. “Maybe for you.”
“Exactly.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. The word pig lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I suppressed it. Although I felt sleazy every time after our little meetings, mostly they weren’t bad. At least, not violent. There had only been one exception thus far and that was when I’d called him some colorful names he hadn’t appreciated.
The memory made me want to recoil and hide. While he was rarely gentle, he had only been brutal with me once, grabbing me around the neck. I had made a point since then of avoiding anything that might bring that around again.
It hadn’t been like that again, but the message was clear—don’t call him names and do what he said.
That was why I kept my mouth shut as I began to undo the blouse I was wearing. It was a deep maroon color with three-quarter sleeves and buttons all the way down the front. Beneath it, I wore that same plain bra that I always wore because I’d be damned if I put anything nice on for Ethan. He could order me to do whatever, but I wouldn’t dress for him.
Ethan had grabbed his length in his large hand already and was stroking himself as he watched me undress. This wasn’t unusual. I was pretty sure he knew people watching me made me uncomfortable and he got off on it. What he didn’t know was that part of me was turned on by it, too.
I took off my dress and he hummed appreciatively. “That’s it. I love those tits.”
Ignoring him, I took off my pants next and then my shoes. After that, I waited. “Well?” I prompted him.
He gave himself another quick stroke, then came over to me. “Take off the bra,” he ordered. Sometimes he liked doing it himself and sometimes he liked watching. Seemed like he was in a watching mood today.
I reached around and unclasped my bra, then slid the straps over my shoulders until my breasts hung free. I felt my nipples begin to harden almost instantly and told myself it was because of the sudden cool air on them, but I knew that wasn’t really it. I was turned on. Whether it was the way Ethan was looking at me—wicked and hungry—or the way he was already rock hard, it didn’t matter. I hated that I was attracted to him.
