Page 6 of Surrender to Me

I heard her shifting, probably sitting up in bed. “Okay, okay. Let’s break this down. You’re telling me a fine, rich, older, tattooedzaddyjust offered you enough money to change your life in exchange for a dirty weekend?”

I hesitated. “…Yes.”

“And you’re considering it?”

I groaned. “Ty...”

“No judgment!” she cut in. “I mean, listen, morally? Could be questionable. But financially? Bitch, that’s a power move.” I laughed despite myself, but inside, I was twisting with indecision. “Friend, be real with me,” Tyrae said more seriously. “Do you want to do it? Like, is there even thesmallestpart of you that’s… intrigued?”

I closed my eyes, letting my head rest against the pillows. Did I? I thought about the way he looked at me like he already knew what I tasted like. The way he spoke was calm, deliberate, and knowing. Like he had no doubt I would say yes. I thought about the way my body had reacted before my brain could.

I took a slow breath. “Yeah. I think I wanna do it.”

Tyrae whistled. “Well, damn.”

I bit my lip. “But I’m also terrified. This isn’t… me. This isn’t what I do!”

“And yet,” she mused, “you haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

I opened my eyes, staring at the black card between my fingers. “You have a point.”

“Damn right, I do. But listen, Honey. If you do this, you need to be fully in control of your choice. This man sounds like the type who doesn’t do hesitation. If you go to him, you have to own it. No second-guessing, no backing out halfway. Be sure.”

I swallowed hard. “He said there was no turning back once I walked through his door.”

Tyrae hummed. “Mm-hmm.”

I ran a hand through my curls, exhaling shakily. “I have an hour to decide.”

Tyrae was quiet for a moment, then said, “If you say no, I fully support that. You’ll find another investor. You’ll figure it out, you always do.”

“But if I say yes?”

She snorted. “Then, bitch, you better moisturize, hydrate, and take your ass over there looking like sex.” I laughed, the sound half-nervous, half-excited. “Now, call me tomorrow. I don’t care how tired you are. I want details.”

I groaned. “Goodnight, Tyrae.”

She cackled. “Goodnight, bitch.”

I hung up before she could say anything else.

The room was silent now. It was just me. And the business card. I exhaled, slowly and measured. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I started getting ready. I stepped into the bathroom, the cool marble floors chilling my bare feet as I turned the shower on, letting the steam rise around me.

“This is fucking crazy,” I muttered under my breath as I stripped out of my dress, tossing it onto the counter. My reflection in the mirror looked back at me with wide, uncertain eyes, my skin already glowing under the dim bathroom lights. “You’re really about to do this,” I whispered to myself, gripping the edge of the sink. “You’re about to walk into this man’s house and let him… what? Own you? Control you? Fuck you senseless?”

My stomach flipped at the thought, and I hated that my body was already warming at the idea before my brain could stop it. To be fair, I hadn’t had sex in a while. I was too busy working and trying to get my business together. Relationships or even a booty call had taken a back seat.

I sighed and stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash away my doubts. I tried to be practical about this like I was making a smart business decision, but let’s be real—this was lust, temptation, and recklessness wrapped in an expensive dick. Still, he had said no turning back.

I reached for my body wash, pouring the vanilla and coconut scented liquid into my palm and running it over my skin. I could already picture the way his voice would sound against my neck, how he would pull my thighs apart without hesitation, how he would…

I groaned and cut off the thought before it went any further. I rinsed off quickly, stepping out into the cool air and reaching for my towel, dabbing my skin dry instead of rubbing—because Tyrae was right. If I was doing this, I was doing it moisturized, hydrated, and looking like sex.

I took my time smoothing vanilla cashmere-scented body butter over every inch of me, lingering on my thighs, as if preparing myself for whatever the hell was about to happen.

Then came the dress—short, silky, a deep bronze color that clung to my curves and made my skin glow like I had been dipped in gold. Gold heels that could slip off easily. I took one last look at myself in the mirror and let out a slow breath.

“Okay, bitch. This is it.” I grabbed my suitcase and walked out before I could change my mind. The resort lobby was quiet at this late hour with only a few late-night guests milling around. I walked up to the concierge desk, tapping my fingers against the polished wood. “Is the shuttle still running?”

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