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She’s a cool customer, I’ll give her that. Must be all the time she spent with that loser I met earlier. She’s trained herself to absorb any shock, any surprise, and show nothing of what’s happening inside. In that sense, we are very much alike.
I’m exercising the same control at this moment, in fact. Willing myself to keep it together at least in her presence. Very few people are entitled to witness one of my rages, and she’s not one of them.
As for the rage? It’s coming, and it’s going to be brutal when it does.
For now, I settle for clenching my fists and breathing as slowly and evenly as possible. That bastard, whoever he is. I’ll take his balls as souvenirs for what he’s done.
“Exactly what would you want me to do?” she asks in a deceptively even voice.
All it does is stoke what’s already boiling inside me. “Can we cut the bullshit? I don’t have time for it. We both know very well what you’re here to do.”
“Rather than go to a brothel and service men at random, you want me to stay here and service only you. Is that it?”
“Yes, that is it.”
“And I have no say in the matter.”
“You’re finally catching on.”
“You know, I can do other things.” When I lift an eyebrow, she babbles on. “I can clean. I can cook. I could answer phones for you.”
“I’m not interested in any of those things. Besides,” I add, my fists tightening at the thought that comes up, “this is only temporary. Once the problems that have recently come to my attention are worked out, I’ll send you to one of my establishments.”
“What’s the problem? Did you get raided?”
“And what business would it be of yours if I did?” I advance on her, my teeth bared in a snarl for her benefit. “What do you know? Have you been talking to somebody you shouldn’t? Maybe that shit heel of a boyfriend of yours knew more than he let on today. Is that what it is?”
“No!” She presses herself against the back of the leather sofa, her eyes wide, tits rising and falling rapidly thanks to the way she’s now breathing because of me. The sense of satisfaction that spreads through me is almost obscene. It’s for rewarding to see her tremble, sick as that might be.
I see it all so clearly. I know what this makes me.
And thanks to the mood I’m currently in, I revel in it. Someone around here needs to remember who they’re dealing with, what I’m capable of.
I lean down, trapping her in the corner of the sofa. “Now, it just so happens I’m in no fucking mood to give you an audition. That will have to wait until later.” If I’m being honest with myself, I can’t pretend the sight of her parted lips—pouty, the kind that would look and feel great wrapped around my cock—isn’t enough to get me thinking along different lines.
No, it will have to wait. Business first.
“For now,” I sneer, standing upright again, “Jock will show you to your room. First order of business: take a bath and wash the smell of poverty off you. I don’t need it stinking up the place.”
“You didn’t seem to mind the way I smelled earlier when you were almost on top of me.”
Perhaps it’s the perversion in me, but I almost want to laugh. Even now, when she is so clearly outmatched, she can’t help but be a smartass. “I’ll let you have that one. But make no mistake, Deanna or Delilah or whatever you feel like being called. I’m not a man you want to keep pushing. Because before long, you’ll find you pushed too far, and by then there’s nothing you’ll be able to do to stop what you’ve put in motion. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.”
“Good girl. Dinner is at 8:00. You’ll find clothes in your room—I prefer something nice for dinner. Anything but what you’re wearing now.”
I glance toward the open door to find Jock waiting, as always. “Show her to the guest suite.” At my command, he marches into the room and takes the tempting Deanna by the arm. No, Delilah, she wants to be called that. I suppose I can grant her that much.
It doesn’t matter, either way. She’s nothing more than a series of holes to fill, and if she thinks she won’t work off her debt, she has another thing coming. If it wasn’t for that damn phone call, she’d be on her way to my midtown establishment at this very moment.
Unfortunately, that establishment along with three others is in the process of being broken down for the foreseeable future. As I stand here in this room, I’m losing money. Every breath I take, every time I blink.
All thanks to some scumbag asshole.
I don’t normally do this before dinner, but this isn’t a normal day. I’m in desperate need of a drink. The library’s bar isn’t as well-appointed as the one in my study, but a glass of whiskey will do. I might need two, come to think of it.
I hear Jock before I see him. “What was the call about?”
