Page 28 of Play the Game

“Money.”

The word floats out of his mouth effortlessly, and I feel the stress melt from my body. I’d be a fool not to take him up on his offer—if it were real.

“And you expect me to believe you?” I look around the room for a camera, other than the one Russ is probably staring at with anger because I’m no longer dry humping Emory. “I don’t trust you.”

Emory’s snicker echoes around the room. “And you think I trust you?”

Ouch.

I narrow my eyes to hide my hurt. “Yet you want to marry me?”

His nod is more of a quick jab. “Contract is in the car.”

Oh, God. Heisserious.

My eyes bounce back and forth between his sharp blue ones. I’m balancing over the edge of insanity and actually considering this.

Emory takes a step toward me, and as soon as his hand wraps around my waist, goosebumps fly to my skin. Fire flushes through my veins. If I say yes, it’ll be like making a deal with the devil.

He peers at me with his steely gaze. “What’ll it be, Rogue?”

I gulp but can’t look away.

“You either leave with me or you can stay here and strip. It’s not life or death…” I blink slowly. “But it seems like it is for you.”

Just then, the door flies open. Emory’s grip tightens around my waist, but I still manage to spin and meet the face of a sweaty Russ. He looks from me to Emory before landing back on me with a scowl.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

My lips draw back in a snarl from his tone. This would be the perfect time to knee him right in the balls, except if this whole thing with Emory doesn’t work, I’ll have to come crawling back to him for a job because there aren't many other jobs—that are legal ones—that pay the way stripping does.

“What does it look like?” I cross my arms because Russ has looked at my spilling boobs three times in the last ten seconds.

“It looks like you aren’t pleasing a client.” Russ’s pupils dilate with anger.

I feel Emory’s hand tighten against me when his warm breath caresses the side of my neck. “What’ll it be, Scottie? Yes or no?”

I quickly weigh my options. Stay here and slave away while fending off slimy men with no respect for me, or go with Emory and put up with his overbearing ego and annoying smirk.

My stomach drops to the floor, and my independence goes next.

I turn my head, and our lips are a breath away. “Yes.”

Emory’s smile sends something exciting into my chest. He removes his hold on me and grabs my hand, pulling me past Russ.

“Whoa, wait. You can’t just take her!” Russ grips Emory’s bicep, and it stops him in his tracks.

Ever so slowly, Emory turns and glares at my now ex-boss. The air turns cold, and Russ grows pale.

“You don’t own her.” Russ looks at me over his shoulder before Emory chuckles and finishes his sentence. “I do.”

My spine straightens, and if Emory’s grip on my hand wasn’t like a padlock, I’d rip it away and tell them boththat neither of them own me.

Next thing I know, I’m being rushed down the dark hallway with Russ disappearing from behind. When we round the corner, I attempt to whip my hand out of Emory’s, but he pushes me up against the wall before I get a chance. My wrist is pinned above my head, and his palm cups me around the waist to keep me still.

“You got something to say, Rogue?”

I quietly hiss. “You donotown me, Olson.”

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