Page 26 of The Southern Submission

“The Pegasus Project is finally ready, and it’s better than the original. How’s the marketing plan looking, Payton?”

My head snaps up, meeting Zander’s calculating gray eyes across the table as he smirks at me, catching my thoughts drifting and likely knowing the cause is the new woman in my life.

Fucking Zander.“We have a collaborative go-to-market plan ready and the new prototype is significantly better than the original. The extra time after the cyber attack and Nephele Industries beating us to market with the original plans allowed us to get innovative and add new technologies we wouldn’t have thought to include previously.” I add in the dig aboutNephele to remind Zander it washisfuckup not patenting the original plans that allowed our competition to put out our stolen jet engine before us.

I’m able to recover well enough, but this is why I need to stop thinking about Ainsley at work. I have to focus here and she’s a distraction. I want her to submit to me too fucking much and I want to reward her by turning her inside out with pleasure for being such a good girl for me. But for now, back to fucking work.

Fifteen

Ainsley

Annoying Payton: Thinking about me, Muffin?

Ilook at my phone while walking to my car after work and roll my eyes at Payton’s presumptuous text. I slide into the hot seat, crank the engine, and blast the air conditioning before I reply.

Me: Haven’t spared you a second thought, but it looks like you’re thinking of me since you're the one texting.

I can't get him out of my head.

Heshowed me a side of myself I was entirely unaware of, all because he’s some evil genius who can read people so effectively, it’s as good as mind reading. The filthy, depraved words he spoke to me and the way it made me feel—confused yet excited, disgusted but needy, wanting to refuse and obey, to balk but give up control, to dig in my heels yet follow his commanding voice and do as he bid—were the antithesis of what I feel about myself as a strong, independent,controlledwoman.

The antithesis, yes, but I can't deny the allure it created. An attraction I don't quite understand. I'm not the kind of woman who wants to give myself up to a man to debase and degrade. To be put in my place and used for his pleasure.To be filled with cum and called a whore.To call a manDaddywho isn’t my father.

Holy shit, I think I need to change my underwear from the flood of warmth that just hit me as I sift through the destruction that Payton left in my head. He really is a master manipulator of epic proportions who says the shit most people would have the good grace to ignore. He’s a dangerous man to befriendswith.

My phone vibrates on my lap, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

Annoying Payton: You’re right. Those fucking lips of yours are always on my mind. I need to see them in person while they say more mean things to me. I’m taking you to dinner at Rare tonight at seven. Prepare your best insults. Wear something sexy. I’m showing off my girlfriend. We’ll be front and center for all tosee.

My eyes widen at his text and everything it includes. Is he serious? He thinks about my lips and he wants to take me out and show me off? I type back a furious reply.

Me: You chauvinistic prick, you can’t tell me what to wear! I’m not your doll to dress up and show off. You asshole!

Annoying Payton: ?? Keep the insults coming, Spitfire. I like you in pink, but blue is my favorite color. I can’t wait to see you again.

He ignored everything I said.

Payton arrives at seven sharp and knocks on my door instead of texting to let me know he’s arrived. Della giggles and hops around the apartment like a bunny on crack as I grab a clutch purse and check my blue minidress one last time in our hallway mirror. I didn’t wear the color for Payton. It’s just the first thing I found that works. I curled my hair and Della forced me to put on makeup, so my eyes are heavy on the sparkly shadow and mascara. I’m even wearing a pink gloss that enhances my full lips to luscious proportions. If he’s thinking about my lips, he won’t be able to stop now.

“Have so much fun and stay out late. Wait, don't even come home,” she says, disappearing down the hallway before I can open the door. I roll my eyes.

“Bye, Dells, I’ll see you later,” I call back. At least she didn’t want to be obnoxious and stand around to meet Payton like a worried parent. Instead, she’d rather make herself scarce so the date startsfaster.

I open the door of my apartment and suck in an audible breath when I find the obnoxious billionaire on my threshold, towering above me as he leans against the doorframe, looking incredible in gray slacks and a white button-down, smelling absolutely divine. The knowing smirk on his face drops when he takes me in, and I get a thrill of excitement when his smiley mask slips, his eyes darkening to something so primal and wanting even I can't mistake it for anything other than what it is.Pure sexual desire.

“Ainsley Montgomery, you look like the kind of trouble I want to get into.” His voice is deep and resonant, sending heat into my core, my thighs clenching as I work to breathe normally.

My cheeks flush at his words. I look away to fight past this flustered feeling. His hand catches my chin and turns my face back up to his as he steps closer, molding our bodies together, his free hand smoothing down my back and keeping me close. His warmth aligns down my front, and though my initial thought is to back up and get out of this, a part of me wants to throw myself into his arms, wrap my limbs around him like a clingy koala, and never let go. That part of me is obviously a horny slut for attention and I work to tune her out as I know better than to give in to her desires, especially with a man like Payton.

Not tonight, demonic koala.

“Good thing we know this is all fake and there’s a contract in place to keep us out of trouble,” I remind him in a shaky voice, stepping back with more difficulty than expected. Disappointment crosses his face, but an easy smile quickly replaces it as he holds out his hand for me to take and turns us to leave.

Rare is the kind of fancy steakhouse I’d never go to on my own given the cost of a single item on the menu and how hardit is to get a reservation, but of course that’s not an issue for a man like Payton. We’re led directly to a table when we check in with the hostess. It’s set off to the side of the restaurant but still within view of the main dining space, so plenty of eyes are on us as we make our way to our seats. I feel the weight of stares without having to look for them and raise pleading eyes to Payton.

“We want to be seen. That's the whole point,” he says quietly, reading my look with stunning accuracy. “You’re my beautiful new girlfriend I want to show off proudly.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand, then runs his thumb over my knuckles in a way that is both performative for our audience and soothes my anxiety at being watched.

“I’m normally the one watching and taking notes. This is new to me. I don’t like it all that much,” I tell him. He flips my hand and laces our fingers together on the table, continuing to smooth his thumb along my skin.

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