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She swallows down more wine, catching my attention. Her lips look seductive as hell wrapped around the rim of the glass.
It stirs my cock, picturing her taking me down her throat.
Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t think of her like that. She’s my client.
Wait. No, she’s not.
Just the one paying the tab. Where the line is here, I have no fucking clue.
“When is the next auction?” Bernadette asks, knocking me out of my dirty thoughts.
“Tomorrow night.” I pull at my tie.
“On a Thursday?” A wrinkle forms over her nose. “How often do they have them?”
“Once a month.”
“I have to get my designs to Stella in six weeks.” Her fingers thread through all that lush red hair I want to pull while fucking her from behind. “Why once a month?”
“That’s how long the contracts last.” I’m not sure how long I’d last inside her.
“A month?” Her eyes flutter. “I have to let some man rail me for a month?”
The idea of another man touching her lights a match to my fury. Unless my plan works out.
“It’s not always about sex. And you can state your hard and soft limits to the coordinator,” I tell her.
“But then I won’t get enough money to pay you.”
“Some men just want a pretty woman on their arm.” I smile, knowingexactlywho would pay that kind of money for a nice girl on his arm.
And not fuck.
Or maybe he will. With me, too.
“I guess.” Bernadette exhales. “And you promise no one will hurt me?”
I can’t promise her that. Not in a cruel way. “There’s pleasure in some forms of pain, Bernadette.”
Like anal sex, the spicy kind that coils up your spine until your whole body vibrates.
The food comes, and my mouth waters, suggesting I’m hungrier than I realized. I make a plate from the main platter for my lovely new friend. Passing it to her, my fingers brush against hers sending more flames through my chest.
“Thank you,” she says. “This looks delicious.”
So do you, sugar...
“You’re welcome, Bernadette.” I pick up my forkand dig into my food. “Trust me. Now eat.”
“Yes, sir.”
I drop my fork and talk myself out of fucking her right on this table.
FOUR
BERNADETTE
Outside the restaurant after lunch, Ford leans down to hug me, whispering, “Everything will be all right.”
