Page 87 of His to Possess
“Sure you don’t. I do expect to hear all the details once you’ve popped that cherry. Pretty little thing, isn’t she? I can see why you’d lay out a million for that pussy. Will you share her once you’ve broken her in?”
The urge to vomit is so strong I actually slap a hand over my mouth. I can’t believe he’s talking like this. I can’t believe…god, everything that bitch said in the dressing room is true.She’s just starting to trust me,he’d said, like it was all some big game.
And apparently part of that game was investigating me. I shouldn’t even be surprised—hadn’t he told me he was sending an “associate” to the bar to check out where I worked? He just failed to mention that associate was a fucking private investigator. I guess it makes sense he’d want to have all the information he could get his hands on before he made his play for me.
God, I am so stupid to have fallen for it.
Suddenly, Jane’s head snaps up, her eyes going wide when she sees me. Then they narrow, anger taking over her features, and Philip glances over his shoulder to see what she’s looking at.
His face lights up for just a second at the sight of me before falling into confused concern. “Lilah?”
“Kim,” Jane snaps, and I realize she wasn’t looking at me after all. Instead she’s staring daggers at her sub as Kim slides up next to me, out of breath.
“Did I summon you?” Jane demands, her voice so icy cold it’s a struggle not to shiver. I’d thought Philip must be the most powerful Dom at the club, but the command in Jane’s voice could give even the most alpha man a run for his money.
“I’m so sorry, Mistress,” Kim says, bowing her head. “But I thought you should know what happened.”
Since I have no desire to rehash everything that went down in the changing room, or to stand here for one second longer than I have to, I turn on my heel and march toward the door, not even pausing when Philip calls my name.
“You need to get control of her, Matthews,” I hear Jane mutter in disapproval and almost burst into laughter. What in the hell did I think I was doing, getting involved in all this bullshit?
“Shut the fuck up, Jane,” he says, and then I feel his hand wrapping around my elbow. “Wait,” he demands.
I jerk my arm hard and my disobedience must surprise him because he lets me go. “Lilah.”
“Fuck you,” I snap, not giving a shit when several heads turn to stare at us in shock. I wonder if anyone has ever told the great Dominant Philip Matthews to fuck himself. The urge to laugh comes back but my body somehow produces a sob instead.
“What’s wrong? Why the hell are you so upset? Will you fucking stop so I can talk to you?”
“I don’t want to hear a word you have to say.” Why are there so many people in this room? It’s hard to keep up my speed when I have to dart around couples and tables. But I can’t slow down. I need out. Now.
“Lilah!” Philip’s voice snaps out like a whip, silencing several of the people nearby. I don’t think I’ve ever heard so much command in his tone. There’s a part of me that wants very badly to stop, to follow his demands, to be his good girl and obey.
But I refuse to allow myself to fall back under that spell, so instead I spin and face him. He looks both pissed and concerned and a little out of breath. He opens his mouth, probably to scold me, but I don’t let him. Instead I jab a finger into his chest.
“Leave me the hell alone,” I say, voice as steady as I can manage. “This is over.”
His eyes widen. “Like hell it is. Tell me what happened.”
“You happened,” I snap. “I’m not playing your game anymore, Philip.”
“What game? Jesus, I have no idea what you’re talking—”
“Heather,” I snarl, and he stills. “I know about your plans for the night and I’m not interested, okay? I’m done.”
“What plans? Fuck,” he curses when I spin again and continue my trek across the room. “Will you come back here? Lilah, I swear to god I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and take you upstairs. You clearly need a spanking, love.”
That word slices through me.Love. I’m even more stupid then I thought. Because I’ve been falling in love with Philip Matthews all this time. And he never cared at all.
I look over my shoulder, meeting his angry gaze, and speak in a voice so calm and clear it surprises me. “If you touch me, I’ll scream. This place is big on consent, right? Well I don’t consent, Philip. Not to you.”
He freezes, staring at me in shock and what looks like hurt. I don’t give myself a moment to think about why that might be before I make a final break for the door, this time reaching it without further interruption. I allow myself a last look over my shoulder and see Philip standing exactly where I left him, the shock and hurt still clear on his face.
* * *
I can’t stopthe tears from falling as I shove clothes into another black garbage bag. What a perfect end to this story—Cinderella fleeing from the handsome prince, all traces of her fancy ballgown and fine things disappearing into the night to be replaced with the same rags she wore in the beginning.
Some fucking fairytale.
