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“How much are you thinking?” I ground out. “Cash is pretty tight right now, even I can’t go around throwing money away.”
Again, a lie, but the girl didn’t know. Kitty took a deep breath and put her offer on the table.
“Two hundred thousand,” she said boldly. “Two hundred thousand for a month’s work.”
I pretended to think about it.
“That’s a pretty penny,” I said slowly. “That works out to, oh, more than six thousand a day. Are you really worth it?”
The girl bit her lip again, but she was firm.
“I can’t do it for less,” she replied. “I’m sorry Mr. Channing, but that’s my final offer.”
Again, I pretended to think. But then I grinned wolfishly at her.
“Sold,” was my last word. “It’s a done deal.”
The girl stared at me.
“Really?” she whispered. “Just like that?”
I nodded, eating up the distance between us in two long strides, pulling that curvy figure into my arms. Kitty was surprised but at least the girl didn’t resist and those warm curves tempted once more, so soft, delicious and ripe.
“Just like that. You’re the soon-to-be Mrs. Channing,” I ground out. “You belong to me now,” I rumbled possessively before planting a kiss on those plush lips.
And fuck me, but it was good. Kitty’s pout parted underneath mine, so sweet and giving that I almost drowned. Because she was my fake fiancée … and shit, but it was gonna be a helluva ride.
CHAPTER THREE
Kitty
Grayson took me by surprise. One minute we were negotiating a deal, and the next I was in the alpha’s arms, swept into a hard, demanding kiss.
Because Mr. Channing is seductive, playing me like a violin. Somehow, I felt like I’d been taken even if I couldn’t put my finger on exactly how. But when he lifted his head, those blue eyes seized mine relentlessly.
“Like I said, baby girl. You belong to me now,” came that growl.
I was dazed, the words ringing in my ears. I belonged to him? I’ve never even had a boyfriend, so to suddenly be engaged to a billionaire took my breath away.
But then the words came out on their own, surprising even me.
“I belong to you now,” I murmured obediently. “Only to you, Mr. Channing.”
What in the world? Why would I say that? I was a doll, a puppet almost, already under the spell of this powerful, commanding man. But Grayson grinned like that was exactly what he expected to hear. He was about to ravish me again, to pull me once more against that hard body when a snarl escaped his chest.
“Rhonda’s still outside. Fuck, talk about bad timing.”
I looked at him, astonished.
“Bad timing?” I asked weakly.
“Yeah, because I want to touch your pussy again,” he rasped, eyes looking me up and down, devouring my curves. “Shit your nips are hard, tell me that cunt isn’t leaking.”
His words were crude, but they made me shiver. Because it was true, my body reacts immediately in his presence, that big form makes me shudder with need. And he was absolutely right, my nipples pressed obscenely against the dress, poking out like rocks.
“Here,” I whispered, pulling my curls forward. “Here, this will hide it.”
It was true, my hair was long enough so that arranged artfully, you could no longer see my stiff tips, big boobies shielded. But Grayson inhaled deeply again.
“It’s not enough, I can still smell my cum on you, that sweet pussy’s got my jism leaking out. But fuck it,” he ground out, pulling on his shirt and pants in a flash. “Mother dearest is outside, we can’t keep her waiting forever.”
I pressed my thighs together in embarrassment. Was it true? Did my pussy have a just-fucked smell? Oh my god, I should have been humiliated but instead, I squirmed internally with pleasure because the scent was Gray’s cum melting in me, running out from my slit, there was just so much.
But it was too late to reply because the alpha yanked open the door then, gesturing to the woman outside.
“You can come in,” he rumbled like it was no big deal. “We’re ready.”
The woman who stepped inside was hands-down beautiful, elegant and put-together, about sixty years old. Iron gray hair was artfully swept into a chignon, and blue eyes just like Grayson’s gazed calmly at me.
“Hello dear,” came the woman’s dulcet voice. “I’m Rhonda Channing, Grayson’s mother. I see that my son’s got his claws in you,” she said with a smile.
I nodded. Not just his claws, something a lot bigger and harder. But I tried to act like it was no big deal.
“Um yes,” I stammered before straightening my shoulders. This was never going to do, I needed to be confident. “Yes, Grayson and I are in love,” I proclaimed, a little too loud.
The elderly woman nodded.
“Of course you are,” she said with a smile. “And I’m so happy that my son is settling down. Finally,” she said with a pointed look at the alpha male.
