Fuck. My heart pinches, and it’s foreign to feel any movement in my body that’s not my cock twitching or spitting rage.
Me: Gemma7…
Gemma7: Yeah?
Me: I’m sure he wants something real with you. How can he not?
Gemma7: He asks to sleep with me whenever we’re together. He says, I’m his.
I guffaw loudly. That’s right bad girl, piss me off and put me in my place.
Me: So why aren’t you his?
Gemma7: I told you, I’m working with him. Plus, I don’t want to mess up my chance for a promotion.
There is no way she’s getting that promotion. Daniel Vance is a sleazeball.
She’s mine. And when this is done, she’s coming back to New York with me.
Me: Where and when will you sleep with him?
Gemma7: I see him tomorrow. He’s got a villa on the strip.
Does she know that if a stranger came here to fuck with me, he’d be leaving in a body bag? But a more troublesome thought takes shape. Would she give my address to a stranger?
I need to test her …
Me: Where?
Gemma7: I’d rather not say.
“Good girl, sparkles.”
Gemma7: What if he and I go to lunch and we get busy in the bathroom? I can video it.
Me: No. I want to see it live.
I can’t bear her coming up with any other ideas I’ll love. Trysts that won’t ever happen.
Me: Do it. I’ll find you.
Gemma7: Have you been…following me?
Me: No comment. If this man wants to fuck you, he won’t care where. He’ll just want to grind against you.
Gemma7: Then what?
Me: I’ll be there. Watching. Anger pulsing through my body.
Gemma7: Are you going to hurt me?
Me: Do you want me to hurt you?
Gemma7: No.
Me: Then I won’t. I will never hurt you, Gemma7.
Gemma7: You made me nervous the other night.
