Page 29 of The Dominator

She flashed a look of confusion at me and then glanced at Earl and Sarah, then back at me.

“You actually want everyone to think I’m okay with all of this?” The challenge in her eyes got me harder. Her full lips were bright red and glossy, like raspberries. Juicy-looking raspberries.

“They know I’m a prisoner here. No one expects me to kiss you.”

“Kiss me.” I leaned in, “Kiss me now and make it good.” I caressed her cheek gently. “Don’t disappoint me.”

She swallowed hard, got a supremely sour look on her face, then leaned over, raked her fingers through my hair and dragged my mouth to hers. She plunged her tongue into my mouth and she was obviously trying for shock value. She let out a little gasp as my hand travelled up further until I cupped her between the legs.

“Good girl,” I smirked and then let go of her and turned the ignition.

She’d summoned courage and had tried to shock me, but I’d turned the tables on her. I suppressed the urge to bust up laughing.

She seemed to withdraw into herself as I drove to the restaurant. She needed help to snap out of it.

“Your things from the foster home have been brought in. They’re in the basement. You can head down tomorrow and look through them and decide what you need to keep.”

Her breath caught. “Okay.”

I knew by her face that she wanted to ask me questions. She didn’t. She just sat there, hands folded in her lap, staring ahead.

“Your foster parents have been debriefed,” I offered.

Her head snapped to my direction. “They know the truth?”

“As much as they need to know. They know that you’ve moved in with me. They know who I am and they know not to ask questions.”

She swallowed hard. “Please tell me that you haven’t threatened them.”

“They’ve been cautioned against contacting you or anyone else about the matter.”

She looked lost in thought for the rest of the drive. She hadn’t asked me about her father, the piece of shit. Maybe she knew enough to know he wasn’t worth the trouble of asking. I hadn’t done anything about him yet. I was quietly having him tailed by my private eye and looking into his past first. I wanted to know what my father’s beef was. Then I’d decide what to do about him.

I pulled into the restaurant parking lot and turned the car off. “There’s something else.”

He was staring at me, looking like he was considering what he’d say next.

“What?” I whispered, feeling dread spread through me.

“I want to compromise with you about tonight. Have a nice evening together.”

I waited for him to continue. He scratched his jaw, looking like he was pondering something.

Finally, he spoke. “Tonight, I want you to look at this as if it’s just a date. Just two people having dinner. Get to know me. Try to be open-minded about enjoying the evening.”

I gave him a yeah right look.

“I mean it. I’ll reward your obedience.”

His eyes were flirty. I didn’t want flirty. But he rewards obedience, he punishes defiance. I had been punished already and knew that to be true, for sure. This guy loved mind games, that much was obvious. Making me snuggle in exchange for not getting raped, offering me vanilla sex if I complied, raping me, restraining me, and now making me pretend to be on a date and be happy about it?

I swallowed hard, “How will I be rewarded?”

He looked thoughtful for a second. “We’ll see.”

I thought back to our first night together. He wanted me to pretend to be happy about lying in his arms in order to have him not touch me sexually. This seemed like it was a lot like that. But it was probably a trick, too, because when I’d woken up the next morning, he was doing sexual things to me anyway, taking advantage of the fact that my guard was down. What was his trick this time?

“Why would I trust you after you tricked me that first night?”

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