Page 46 of Control

I checked the time on my phone. It was nearly nine o’clock. Late. Yet not so late that he would be asleep already. And he was expecting me.

I couldn’t make it yesterday. My lesson plans were suffering since I had been distracted lately, so I’d needed some time to myself to prepare my next few classes. He had texted me last night, though, making me promise that I would come tonight.

I took longer than expected getting over here. I had stopped home to shower and grab some clothes for the morning. Jai now provided me with a driver so I didn’t have to take the subway in the evenings. He was beyond paranoid about my safety, especially at my building. To avoid fighting with him every day, I had caved and started using the car he sent.

Overprotective son of a…Although, now that I thought of it, he hadn’t reached out to me all day. I would normally have received four texts and a phone call by now, but I had no notifications. Panic set in.Is he okay?

I ran into his bedroom, only to find his bed fully made and unwrinkled, as if the maid had just changed the linens.

“Jai! Where are you?” I cried. My footsteps sounded like a scuffle of chaos as I tried every door in the hall. Every room turned up empty.

I bolted down the stairs to the main floor of the penthouse, where his office was. The door was open, and I could see a light on inside, but no sound came from within.

I inched slowly toward the doorframe, bracing myself for what I might find. What if someone had intruded into his place? He was probably a target for burglars, judging from his collection of high-quality possessions. What if they were holding him hostage inside the office? Or worse. I had lost my mother to a home robbery, and I couldn’t take losing the man that I cared about to the same fate.

Filling my lungs quickly with one last inhale, I held my breath and entered.

Relief flooded my veins and stale air rushed out of my nose. “Jai. What are you doing hiding in here?”

He sat back on the sofa, one hand around a half-filled tumbler that rested on his thigh and the other pulling the cigar in his mouth away. Rings of smoke left his lips as he tilted his head back, eyes never leaving me.

“I was worried about you. Didn’t you hear me calling out for you?” I took a step closer to him, but something kept me from going to him and crawling into his lap like my heart desired.

He continued puffing on his cigar, ignoring my questions.

Successfully irritated, I dropped my bag to the floor with a thud and anchored my hands on my hips, waiting for his response. “Are you even listening to me?”

His eyes showed a new side of him I had never seen before. The Jai I had fallen for was warm with a side of playful cockiness. I didn’t know this Jai—the one whose gaze was sharp like a spear.

Menacing. That was the best way to describe what I saw before me.

“Strip.” He had issued that order to me many times in the past, but tonight his tone was harsh, all smoothness removed.

“Mon cher, you’re scaring me. What happened?” I pled.

He leaned forward and put out his cigar in the ashtray on the table in front of him. Bringing his glass up to his lips, he took a long sip. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the amber liquid down like it was water. Depositing his now empty glass next to the ashtray, he redirected his attention to me. “You don’t take orders easily, do you?”

I stared at him, completely baffled by his behavior. Why was he doing this? He never treated me like I was beneath him, like some random woman he was using for sex. I imagined he had treated strippers better than he was treating me right now.

“I said, STRIP!” he barked so loudly that I stumbled back a few steps to distance myself from him.

“Don’t talk to me that way,” I shouted back. His past whores might have considered this to be “dirty talk,” but I wasn’t going to let him get away with that shit with me.

Something sinister gleamed in his eyes as he cocked his head to the side, studying me.

Before I could register what was happening, he charged me. Rough hands grabbed my arms, pulling me into him. His mouth moved in to force itself on my lips.

I pulled my neck back to avoid his assault. “Get off of me, asshole.” I pushed against him, trying desperately to get him to loosen his grip, not caring if I reinjured his ribs again.

I managed to spring my hand free. I pulled it back quickly and swung at his cheek, my palm stinging on contact as the slap flung his face to the side.

Stepping back, out of arms’ length, I watched as shock registered on his face. His fingers went to the spot that had made contact with my hand, rubbing it to make sure it had really happened.

He deserved two more slaps…and harder ones, at that.

Eyes filled with rage glared back at me. “Get the fuck out!”

All I could do was laugh nervously. “Gladly.” I grabbed my bag from the floor and hurried out of the office, nearly sprinting to the front door.

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