Page 37 of Fake You

He grinned again, then lowered his foot slightly, despite my tight grip on it, so that it hovered outside my entrance. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. I gave him a death stare in return, but at the same time, opened my legs a fraction, granting him access—I’d gone commando as the thin, soft leather of my skirt showed every line and seam. Not breaking eye contact, he pushed his toe into me, and laughed softly as my body bucked gently in response.

“Don’t fight it, Angel. You know that in any war against me, you’re not going to win.”

He was right, at least about this particular battle. I was too far gone, and had been too needy for too long to resist. Instead, I succumbed to the pleasure, but kept my expression blank, apart from the fact that I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out as the ecstasy built within me.

Still, I managed to glare at Drew as though he was something I’d trodden in on the sidewalk. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly he affected me, even though I was pretty sure he knew exactly how much he was fucking with me, both figuratively, and literally.

As I felt my orgasm building, I dropped my hand discreetly under the tablecloth, and pulled his foot closer to me, holding it in place. There was no way I was prepared to risk him repeating the stunt from earlier—I’d have lost my mind. As it was, I felt half out of it to be doing what I was doing in the middle of one of the city’s top restaurants—surrounded by other diners.

The bittersweet sensation of internalizing my orgasm almost killed me. It was like detonating a bomb at the bottom of the ocean. The effect of the tsunami was epic and wide-reaching, but didn’t ripple the surface, so to the outside observer, everything was as it should be. I bit my lip harder, afraid I’d draw blood, but more afraid that if I didn’t, I’d make a total spectacle of myself in public. The pain kept me focused on maintaining the cool, calm exterior, no matter how churned up I felt inside.

“You’re making this too easy for me, Angel. I’ve got you right where I want you, in more ways than one.”

“Maybe. But sometimes perception is very different from reality. Right now, for instance, I have you right where I want you too, serving my needs and interests. Makes you wonder who’s controlling who, doesn’t it?”

I enjoyed watching his reaction as he digested this new piece of information. I loved even more the shift in power as my words sank in. “Thank you for an… interesting evening, but if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” I stood up, and walked away from the table, across the restaurant and out into the foyer. I got a few steps across it before a hand on my forearm stopped me.

“You need to stop walking away from me.”

I pulled my arm free of his grasp, and spun to face him angrily. “No. You need to stop acting like you have the right to tell me what to do. You don’t. Not even close.”

“Where do you need to be at this time of night?”

“You really do have issues with boundaries, don’t you? It’s None. Of. Your. Business.” I spat each word like machine gun fire.

“I’m not the one with the issue. You are. The sooner you understand that until I have what I need from you, everything you do is my business, the better things will be for both of us. So I’ll ask you again, where are you going?”

This time, I didn’t dignify the question with a response, just continued striding across the foyer. I was poking the bear, but I was past caring. He could do his worst and I’d give as good as I got in return.

I made it just outside the door before he was on me again. This time, pressing me against the glass to the front of the foyer with his body.

I pushed against his firm, hulking chest, and when he didn’t budge an inch, I tried ducking sideways to escape, but he put up a huge arm and cut me off.

He leaned in, placing his forearm against the glass either side of my head, so that he could align his lips with my ear.

“This isn’t a game. It’s serious business, and my father is a dangerous and unforgiving man, who’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

“Hmm… well, they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Yeah, and ‘they’ are right. It doesn’t. We have a lot riding on this—he and I, and there’s no getting out of it unscathed if you continue to refuse to do the right thing.”

“Ha! Do you even hear yourself? The ‘right’ thing? Like I said before, what you really mean is what you and your father want me to do to protect your interests? You people wouldn’t know what was right if it slapped you in the face. You’re self-serving, arrogant fat cats.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know everything I need to know about you, and those like you, and I hope you and your father rot in hell.”

“And like I said before, I’m already in hell, but as for the rotting part, we both know that’s not true—you can say what you like about my character, but you can’t deny that you like what you see. You’re hot for me, even though you hate me.”

“I don’t like anything about you.”

“Yet, still, you’re attracted to me. Go figure.” I’d never wished for someone to be wrong more than I did him in that moment.

“There’s no accounting for people’s stupidity, even my own.”

“The feeling is mutual, as you know, and despite indications to the contrary, I’m far from stupid.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

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