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He hums happily under his breath but doesn’t explain himself. He continues the massage, working his way down again until his hands are cupping my breasts. A jolt of realization brings me back to my defiant state as his thumbs brush against my nipples.
I shrug him off of me, turning in my chair and frowning. “We have a game to play, remember?”
He shrugs. “I was willing to forgo any further bets if it meant being able to make you feel good.”
I narrow my eyes at him, equally tempted to give in and allow him to blow my mind with his hands, or flip a coin and potentially sell him my dignity.
I know what that means to him. He wants to have sex with me, to take the most precious thing he can, but my bitter secret is that I want to be used like that. I hate that about myself, but the only way I feel any amount of satisfaction with myself is when someone is deep inside me.
Someone who isn’t afraid to take control.
Someone like Pasha.
The only problem is that I’m off my birth control, unable to find a pharmacy that will refill my prescription, and that means I’ll be taking the ultimate risk by having sex with Pasha.
But why am I even thinking about that? I’ve jumped the gun once again. We have a game to play, and I’m determined to win this time.
“Sit back down and let’s play,” I finally say, returning to my stern attitude. I don’t want him to believe he’s already won me over.
Pasha circles back around the table, straightening his green silk tie as he sits down across from me. “Are you sure you don’t want any wine?”
I shake my head. “You want me sober, don’t you?”
He chuckles. “Right.”
“So, let’s play. Thirty seconds in exchange for my dignity.”
“And you know what that means,” he says, his eyes dancing across my bare breasts. “You will be giving everything to me.”
“Sex,” I reply, hissing the word out from between my teeth. “Because that’s all you see me as. A whore.”
He shakes his head. “Not quite, but you’ll learn all there is to know in due time.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about, but I don’t especially care to navigate his riddles. I’m more concerned with what I can ask for that he can’t give me. Something impossible. Something so grand that he won’t be able to say yes.
“Thirty seconds,” Pasha says, tapping a finger against the sapphire face of his watch.
“The Eiffel Tower,” I blurt.
He takes a sharp breath in, letting it out slowly. “I could take you there.”
“No, I want to own it,” I reply, crossing my arms and flashing a victorious grin. “You lose, Pasha Chazov. Not so rich and powerful, after all.”
He narrows his eyes at me, his jaw clenching so hard that his face turns red. “Very well… You may leave.”
I stand up, hardly believing that I made it through this without falling for his tricks. “What about my clothes?”
“No, you can walk home naked,” he growls, waving me away like I’ve suddenly become his greatest annoyance.
“Seriously? You’re not going to at least give me –”
“Get out of my sight!” he growls, jumping up from his seat so fast that he knocks the table over.
Silverware clatters to the floor, and so does the check he wrote me. I won’t be taking it with me. For my safety, it’s best that I make a quick retreat.
I hurry away, feeling the heat of his rage against my bare ass as I bend over and open the hatch to leave. I can’t stomach even a glimpse over my shoulder as I flee from his wrath.
11
