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She glances over her shoulder at me, a sliver of submission. beneath her hooded eyes. A woman like Athena isn’t used to a man standing up to her. I think she fucking liked it.
Following my order, she mingles and talks to almost everyone. Usually, she would be seen slinking off to somewhere to be alone. Tonight, she seems to be enjoying the party and getting to know her guests. Every time she gets too comfortable, I make a sly comment or pass her with my hand subtly grazing over her ass or pinching it. I’m having fun teasing her, and plan on doing it the rest of the night, when a skeevy-looking journalist manages to corner her. I don’t like the way he is standing too close. Too fucking close. When his hand touches her shoulder and she tries to shy away but he presses forward, I see red.
The only thing that saves this asshole’s life is how she brushes him off more firmly, and he doesn’t touch her again. I’m considering backing off until I hear his questions.
“I’m just confused Ms. Godwin. First, we are told you lost your mother when you were fifteen. Now we find she only died a few months ago? Which is it?”
I march to Athena’s side and stand between her and the reporter.
“This is not an angle you want to pursue,” I tell him.
“The public deserves to know—”
“The public deserves a paper that reports newsworthy events, like corruption, crime, politics. Not the private family matters of those who have refrained from the public eye.” I herd him toward the door.
“You don’t think a woman faking her death is news?” he scoffs.
“There are three senators and a mayor here. If you want to harass someone, either pick someone who chose the public life or leave.”
The threat in my voice is clear, and judging by how pale this man is becoming by the second, he has heard it. Without another word, he turns and scurries away, which is when I notice it is far quieter than it should be, and everyone is watching me.
“Fucking reporters, am I right?” I say, laughing it off. Several of the others also laugh, and the chatter starts again. Not wanting to make more of a scene, I leave the party and find a place I can go destress for a moment.
It takes less than fifteen minutes for Athena to find me leaning against the railing of one of the balconies, smoking a joint.
“Thank you,” she says, standing in front of me. Her words sound sincere, but I am still considering punishing her ass for thinking the worst of me.
“If you really want to thank me, you should be on your knees with my cock in your mouth showing me exactly how thank—” My words are cut off by her hand slamming into my chest hard enough to nearly throw me off the edge of the balcony.
I instantly have my hand around her throat and her body pressed against the brick wall.
“That is no way to treat a man who saved your ass twice.”
“It’s exactly how I should treat a man who ruins every nice thing he does by acting like my body is made to be used by him,” she growls in my face. There is that fire that I adore.
“Your body was made for me to use, toy with, please and worship. You just keep assuming that’s the only thing I want from you.”
“It is the only thing men like you want from me,” she fires back.
“For someone so smart, you are really fucking dumb, you know that?”
“Fuck you. Let me go.”
“Is that what you want, baby girl?”
I lean into her, one hand still holding her by the throat, not hard enough that she can’t breathe, but enough she can feel how much power I have in the situation. My other hand I run down the thin slit between her breasts when I find she isn’t wearing a bra. I grin as I slip my entire hand in to cup her breasts. I pinch her nipple between two of my knuckles while I squeeze her breasts and revel in the low groan that escapes her lips.
“What was that?” I taunt. “You’re going to be a good girl and let me eat this pussy on this balcony where anyone can find us? Then once I make you come on my tongue, you’re going to get on your knees and show me how thankful you are for me saving you. Then you are going to let me protect you.”
I expect her to press into my hand and tell me yes. Instead, she laughs. She fucking laughs at me, then takes my hand and bends my finger back, forcing me to let her go.
“I do like the idea of you on your knees telling me how sorry you are for causing a scene downstairs. I might even let you taste me if you beg. But I don’t think you deserve to make me come. You haven’t earned the privilege.”
