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After pouring another glass of wine, a vinyl record player catches my attention. I haven’t seen one of these in ages. Music begins to play, and I’ve never felt more alive. I feel strong, untouchable, and the alcohol only seems to boost my confidence levels even higher.
Swaying my hips to the rhythm, I’m careless and free as we fly through the dark sky. It can’t get any better than this.
The song’s pace quickens. I close my eyes, letting myself go. Spinning in circles with the glass still in my hand, I run my other hand all over my body. My imagination wanders.
I imagine Mr. Edwards caressing me, cornering me against a wall with his hand against my throat. Stripping my clothes, pushing his length into me, claiming me.
Slipping a hand into my bra, my fingers pinch my puckered nipple. A hushed moan escapes from my lips, wetness pooling between my inner thighs. I am drenched at the thought of him.
When my eyes open, my heart sinks.
Jaxon Edwards stands several feet away, and his eyes are narrowed, raging withdominant desires. Immediately, I become still, mortified that he has intruded.
“I didn’t know you were there,” I rush out, embarrassed. “How long were you watching me?”
Turning on my heel, I silence the music.
“Does that truly matter?”
As I face him, he takes a seat on the end of the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee.
“Continue,” he murmurs. “Don’t let me stop you.”
His lips remain parted while he continues to keep his eyes locked with mine. Daring me. Testing me. All the color drains from my face and goosebumps rise on my skin. I begin to feel the wine swirling around in my stomach, threatening to come back up.
He spreads his arms out on the head of the couch. “Forget it, Ms. Pierce. Just wanted to have a little fun, is all.”
“You want me to touch myself in front of you, Mr. Edwards?” I ask, putting him on the spot. He appears amused, cocking his head to the side. “All you have to do is ask.”
Facing my back to him, I turn the music on once more. The new song reminds me of one that would be played at the strip club.
This man is not the only one living a tainted life. There’s nothing darker and more degrading than sleeping with men for money. I’m more than used to men seeing me naked.
If this is what he wants, then I will give it to him.
Swaying my hips to the beat of the music, he watches me. I dance seductively, sipping down the rest of the wine before placing my empty glass onto the table.
Running my fingers through my hair, I arch my back, not daring to break our eye contact. Pulling down the top of my dress, I expose my red, lace bra. Reaching around my back, I unhook my bra, and slowly slide the straps down my arms.
Soon enough, my dress and panties pool at my feet. Trying desperately to keep my composure, I stand before him. There’s heat in his eyes. Lying beside him on the couch, my legs spread, granting him the perfect view. Every nerve ending is on edge as he watches me eagerly, pushing my fingers through my slick folds.
Closing my eyes, I picture my hands as his own. My skin is scorching. I’m suddenly on fire, aching for him. Pushing a finger into my tightness, I envision it’s him, intensifying every sensation. I softly moan, slowly adding in another.
Massaging my breasts at the same time, playing with my puckered nipples, I’m thrown closer to the edge. My fingers are so slippery, and I quicken my pace. I’m squirming before him, moaning, breathing deeply. My stomach tenses, and my legs quiver.
Suddenly, I’m there.
Shattering into a million pieces, I don’t even attempt to hold back my cries, riding out my orgasm until I’m left gasping for air.
My eyes find his. So intense. Flustered, I cover myself with the throw. Without any warning, he stands.
“Fuck,” he growls, running his hand through his hair. “You’re lucky I’m a man of my word.”
And with that, Mr. Edwards dismisses himself from the room.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Afew hours later we arrive in California.
