Page 27 of Strings Attached

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Way to stay professional.

He stood and walked toward me slowly, as though he was taking a leisurely stroll. “And are you asking for yourself personally or to write in that notebook of yours?” Although his voice was calm, nothing about his gaze was; a storm brewed behind them.

“Both,” I breathed.

With only a foot separating us, I had to arch back to look up at him.

“Myhobbiesrelax me. If I need something more, I pay for it.”

“You mean sex workers?” I asked, surprised; I expected him to take the dozens of offers he’d gotten tonight alone.

He nodded. “And I pay extra because I have specific needs and wants.” He added, “And yes, I always use protection.”

I really wanted to write all this down but made mental notes along the way, not wanting to break the moment. He didn’t always want to share, and I wasn’t about to interrupt him.

“I imagine it comes as no surprise to you that I enjoy inflicting pain.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back.

I gasped, wincing as each hair pulled against my scalp. “Not even a little,” I bit out the words.

He chuckled and let me go before turning back toward the entrance. “I rarely need that, though. The rest keeps me more than satisfied.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, hunger dancing behind his eyes as he stared.

I swallowed hard.

18

Fury

Iwalked inside the main area, stretching my arms above my head as I let out a yawn. “I don’t know how you do these late nights.”

“I slept this afternoon.” Jack eyed me wearily. “Didn’tyou?”

“Couldn’t. Too excited.” I quickly added, “To take notes while I observed.”

He chuckled, but didn’t comment as he pulled off his t-shirt. This time, I got a better look at his bare chest, and I did my best not to stare too much. But it was hard. And so were his muscles.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. “I have leftover beef stew I made from yesterday.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal; I usually bought frozen dinners. “I’d love some, thanks.” I beamed at him, bouncing on my tiptoes. “I’ll just go get cleaned up real quick.”

He nodded, and I grabbed my duffle bag on the way to the washroom. Getting unready for the night was usually a quick affair, but for some reason, I wanted to look nice. I put on my pajamas?black shorts and a pink tank top?and put my hair up into a ponytail. Removing my makeup was fast, but I kept checking my face in the mirror. Was it presentable? I’d never not worn basic makeup around him before.

I laughed at the self-esteem issues I was fighting against; I was going to sleep here, and it certainly wouldn’t be while having foundation or concealer. Still, my eyes had dark circles at the bottom as though I hadn’t slept in a while?which I hadn’t?and my face had some wrinkles I’d never noticed before.

After splashing some water on my face, I stared back at myself. “Get a grip,” I muttered.

The floor was nice and cool beneath my feet as I stepped out of the washroom. Jack busied himself, stirring something inside a cooking pot. He’d changed into gray sweatpants with a white t-shirt, giving him an almost innocent look. I nearly burst into giggles at the thought.

He did a double take on me, his eyes lingering from my bare legs to my braless top. Food seemed to leave his mind as his grip on the spoon tightened, his knuckles turning white. I approached the island counter, and took a seat at one of the many stools, leaning forward. Knowing my breasts were pushed together at this angle didn’t bother me, and it certainly didn’t seem to upset him either.

“Is it too hot in here?” he asked in a gruff voice as he rinsed off the spoon he’d been using.

“It’s just right.” I stared around the place, letting my legs swing back and forth from the height of my seat. “Why?” I asked in an exaggerated innocent tone.

He snorted, but grabbed the cooking pot, and put it on a trivet on the counter. He grabbed some bowls, and served us some of the stew. The steam rose, and the smell was heavenly. My mouth watered, and I plunged my spoon in without waiting a single second. I ate, closing my eyes as I let out a moan. The meat was so tender and tasty.

“This is so good,” I said, smiling ear to ear.

He simply watched me for a few seconds before eating his own food. We ate in silence for the rest of the time, the occasional clinking of dishes resonating in the vast room.