Page 5 of Bait Me
Him holding me captive, almost.
Him far too close.
Him, him, him.
My sister’s ex.
Talk about a fine fucking line. Or maybe the line isn’t actually fine at all, because where I come from, this situation would be a huge no-no. I mean, I don’t exactly understand what the situation is, but I know it’s wrong on all levels, even if I do dislike my sister.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I say, but my voice holds no real meaning, coming out all breathy and shit. I roll my eyes at the wall. God, why does he have to smell so damn delicious, and why does his hands on me suddenly feel so right?
“I have a proposition for you,” he says, his lips still by my ear, making me shiver. Bugger. I’m hardly hiding how my body reacts to him, and I’m sure he’ll know it too.
“What proposition?” I ask, because I’m bloody intrigued by the man who has taken it upon himself to follow me out of his swanky ‘meeting’ bar and pin me to this wall.
“Are you going to fly off the handle if I let you go?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly, and doing absolutely nothing to calm my raging pussy—the traitor that she is.
And despite my mind warning me against getting too involved with Darius, whatever he has to say, I find myself answering with, “I won’t fly off the handle.”
He seems to let go of me slowly, really slowly, and once he steps away, I kind of miss his touch immediately. And when my eyes connect with his… fuck. Those dark blue eyes suck me in, in a different way to how they ever did over a damn dinner table. I mean, I guess my sister being a barrier was the reason, but without her here, without them together, I can picture his lips on mine, his body covering mine, and his tongue doing wicked things to me.
Shut it down. Shut it down now!
“So,” I begin, standing tall. “What is this proposition you manhandled me down here to talk about?”
He chuckles deep in his chest, and bloody hell, it might just be my new favourite sound.
“Firstly, I realise this must be a lot to take in, seeing as I’ve kept my business as private as possible, and away from my social life. Secondly, you only get one pass to walk out of my club in a hissy fit—just one. And thirdly, my proposition is a simple one…”
“Which is?” I ask as he lets the seconds draw out between us, even as I feel my annoyance flair at him saying about the one pass thing—annoyance and heat, because fucking hell, this dominant side of Darius is quite something. I’ll question him about the other shit rolling around my brain in a minute, once he’s revealed the reason he accosted me.
“I have a client, a very trusted one who expects nothing but your company for one weekend. Friday night until Sunday afternoon. And they pay very generously.”
I’m momentarily frozen in place. That was not what I was expecting. I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting to start with, but it certainly wasn’t this. One weekend. One man. A trusted one, apparently. A paid weekend with a man I don’t know, and this is after I’ve stormed out of his bar.
“Hang on a second, this is a little much to process. I just found out you’re the boss of the whole escort thing, you just ended things with my sister, and now you want me to spend the weekend with a man who I’ve never met but who will pay me to spend time with him?” I waffle.
“Yes, to everything you just said, except it’s been a week since I ended things with your sister, just to clarify,” he replies, a smirk gracing the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, well, that makes it all better then,” I respond, my eyes rolling again, except this time, I see his eyes darken at the action, and damn if that doesn’t make me feel a little hotter for him.
“I usually don’t let people get away with talking to me like that, Bonnie,” he starts, and he takes a step towards me, my feet instinctively moving back until I hit the wall. “I’d usually reprimand them, show them who they’re dealing with, but for you…” His hands come either side of my head, resting against the wall as he leans down so he’s eye level with me. “I’ll make an exception.”
“And why would you do that?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Because I want you to say yes.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m a very persuasive man, Bonnie. What you saw of me over Sunday dinner was an act, a ploy to make you all believe I’m someone I’m not, but really, I will go after what I want until it says yes.”
“So you’re pushy,” I deduce, as he firmly holds my gaze, my eyes unable to look away.
“Not pushy, I just don’t give up. It’s how I became who I am today.”
“A pimp?” I fire back at him.
“If you took a little time to learn, then you’d see that I take extremely good care of the women and men that work for me.”
