by Anne, Melody
“Get into the car.”
It took a moment for Jewell to realize that Blake was speaking to her. She looked from him to the officer and decided she was more afraid of Blake at that moment than the law, and so, without another word, she moved to the passenger’s side and climbed into the sports car.
She was surprised when she saw the officer’s lips moving but heard no sound. Maybe the car was soundproof. If Blake riled up the officer too much, she certainly hoped it was also bulletproof. Too nervous to look away, she kept watching as the officer and Blake spoke. Then her jaw dropped. The officer put away his ticket book, turned around, and started walking to his police car.
Then the cop got in and drove off. She hadn’t had to give her name, hadn’t received a ticket. Who in the hell was Blake Knight? If he could get an outraged police officer to go away, what couldn’t he do?
Blake entered his car a moment later, switched on the ignition, and the engine came to life. Without speaking, he pulled from the parking place, then jumped onto the freeway.
His masculine scent surrounded her, making her stomach clench as her desire immediately revved back up. When she noticed his fingers wrapping around the stick shift, she ground her thighs together and wondered what was wrong with her. This was a job, only a job, a job she despised. Being attracted to her client in any way made her pathetic.
“We’ll finish this later,” he said, making her jump in her seat.
“What did you say to him to make him leave?” She’d been dying to ask, but had waited until he spoke first.
“It doesn’t matter; I know people” was his only answer.
Jewell decided not to say anything further. She had no idea what was coming next, but whatever it was, she was sure she would need her strength. Blake Knight frightened her — and, sadly enough, excited her as well.
It would be in her best interest to remember who he was, and also to remember herself. They weren’t a couple; they weren’t even friends. She was his toy to play with for a short time, and she was sure he’d make the most of it, take every advantage.
And then she’d be another man’s toy. She needed to keep this sad fact constantly in the front of her mind.
Chapter Seven
“Take off your clothes.”
Jewell looked at Blake as if he’d lost his mind. “What?”
His eyes narrowed. “Take off your clothes. Do not make me repeat myself again.” He stood back and looked at her through silver eyes that seemed to see right into her soul.
“I c…can’t. We’re in a parking garage,” she stammered. She looked desperately around at the full lot.
Sure, this corner happened to be dark, but what if someone drove in? What if a police car cruised by again? There was no way she could do what he was ordering her to.
Blake just waited in silence, leaning against the front of his car and watching her pace nervously in front of him.
“Please?” Sheesh. She was reduced to begging now.
“I guess our agreement is finished, then.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care.
Was he bluffing? Could she take the chance? Her stomach knotted painfully as she weighed her options.
Wanting more than anything to walk away, she closed her eyes and saw her brother’s sweet, impish face. What was she willing to do for him?
Anything.
If that meant she had to strip down in a public place and humiliate herself, that’s exactly what she would do. But what if she was cited this time? Nausea churned in her stomach as she realized that Blake Knight wasn’t going to make her time with him easy. She’d constantly be facing painful decisions about what to do, and about how far she could go without risking losing her brother.
Still, she had her pride. With a haunted look at Blake, she began undoing the buttons on the front of her blouse. The air was warm, almost too warm, at least to her, with only a slight breeze brushing against her skin. She’d soon be standing there in nothing but her panties and bra, the summer air dancing around her body, enticing her.
No. She refused to become turned on. He’d already proved he had the power to make her lose her thoughts, but she was just as determined to harden herself against this man, a man who was so remote, so cold.
She could be cold, too. She would defy him — if only in her mind, since she obviously couldn’t defy him outright and still keep her job.
That was good enough for her, because she knew that she’d emerge the ultimate victor. She would get what she wanted, even if he was also getting what he wanted. But wasn’t that what relationships were truly about? Both parties getting something from the other that made them happy, or made their lives a little bit better?
She did wonder what this man was doing hiring his dates. He was clearly wealthy, attractive and commanding. He seemed the type who could have any woman he wanted. Why in the world would he pay for one? Probably because the agency promised him whatever he wanted, and what he wanted was far out of the ordinary. That meant he was going to make her do things that would slowly kill her.
It was worth it, though. It would all be worth it in the end.
With trembling fingers, she undid the last button on her blouse, and she hesitated for just a fraction of a second before pushing the blouse off her shoulders and allowing it to fall to the concrete floor.
She waited briefly, hoping she’d shown enough willingness to obey him that he’d call a halt to this test, and she wouldn’t actually have to strip completely naked. When he didn’t move, but just stood there looking at her with those intense silver eyes, she knew her hopes were in vain. She’d have to complete her striptease.
Panic rose in her throat as she reached behind her and found the button on the waist of her skirt. Though her fingers were now shaking visibly, she somehow managed to free the button and pull the zipper down. She wanted to cry as the material slid down her body before she kicked it away, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her minuscule panties, lacy red bra, garter belt, stockings and five-inch heels.
“Everything but the garter belt, stockings and heels,” he said, his voice deep — at least he seemed turned on by what he saw.
Oh, this was a nightmare. She was sure someone would walk out and find them. It was just a matter of time. She also knew that would please this sick, disturbed man. He hadn’t spoken a word to her on the rest of the drive back to his place, but as soon as they’d left the car, he’d commanded that she strip for him. Was this punishment because they’d been interrupted earlier? It hadn’t been her fault.
Reaching forward, she unclipped her bra and then pulled it away and let it float down onto the growing pile of clothes. She couldn’t hide her blush when the air touched her nipples and they hardened.
“Very nice,” he said, and he shifted his stance.
She knew hesitating any further would only draw this out even more, so without any further prompting, she hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties and drew them down her legs, then kicked them over with the other clothes before she stood back up, now almost completely naked, an object for this man to examine with his damnably critical eyes.
“Turn slowly in a circle,” he said huskily.
Jewell did as he said, wobbling only slightly in the unfamiliar shoes as she gave him a good look at her body. She knew it wasn’t perfect.
“You’re too skinny, but we can fix that,” he said, and she wanted to slap him.
She was fully aware that she needed to put on weight. She’d love to be able to eat enough to do just that.
“Your breasts and ass are perfect, though,” he said. “You will not change either.”
She wanted to snarl at him, to demand that he give her the secret to keeping her body up to his particular standards and his alone. But she managed to keep her retort to herself. When she looked back into his eyes, she saw a hint of a smile in them, as if he knew what she was thinking and how difficult it was for her to keep her comments to herself.
That made her dislike him j
ust a little bit more.
“Come here.”
Her stomach shaking, Jewell walked away from her pile of clothes and moved toward this commanding man. Was she about to lose her virginity on the hood of his expensive car? She wouldn’t put it past him. She only hoped that he wouldn’t realize how inexperienced she was and take her back to the agency, demanding a refund for misrepresentation — heck, for a bad imitation of what a whore was supposed to be.
She had to pull this off somehow, no matter how much she hurt and no matter how much she felt like crying. She could cry later — when she had time alone in the shower, or when he wasn’t there. There was no way he could be with her twenty-four hours a day.
Besides, she had to get away on Saturday, whether she lost her job or not. She almost had lost her job the last Saturday. She’d snuck out and Ms. Beaumont had been furious — and her fury intensified when Jewell refused to tell her where she’d gone. The woman had almost fired her right then and there, but Jewell had somehow managed to keep her job, barely.
This week it would be even more difficult. Blake Knight wouldn’t give her a pass on this. He’d want to know where she’d gone, and when she wouldn’t tell him, he’d end their time together. Saturday would be their last night together, though, so her week’s duties to him would be fulfilled already. However she had other things to think about now; she’d have to worry about that when the time came.
After reaching Blake’s side, she waited for his next order, feeling almost curious about what it would be. He reached out and touched her throat with one finger, and then moved it slowly downward, between her breasts, and to her stomach. Here he stopped and splayed all his fingers over her flat abs.
“Yes, you are beautiful,” he said almost reverently, but the shutters went back over his eyes and she stood trembling before him. His touch alone left her barely able to stay upright, so violently were her knees shaking. The hitch to his breath as his skin connected with hers made her core pulse and grow slick in preparation for what she knew he planned to do.
His next command almost completely undid her, though she hated herself just a little bit for it. “Spread your thighs.”
She moved her feet apart as much as she comfortably could, opening herself up even further for this man and anyone else who happened to enter the garage.
“More.” His tone was strained as she did what he wanted, spreading her legs as far apart as she could. “Now, bend your knees slowly, gripping my waist with your hands as you do,” he said through gritted teeth.
What did he want? She was thoroughly confused.
Tentatively lifting her hands to his waist, she steadied herself and going lower and lower, leaving her core wide open, though he couldn’t see it from where he stood.
“Perfect,” he whispered, and she realized that her face was right in front of his zipper, and the fabric of his slacks was obviously stretched to the limit.
“Undo my pants. Hold me in your hands.”
Her breath whooshed in. She was about to see this man, feel him. This was it. There was no turning back once she did this, not that she’d been able to turn back from the moment she’d set foot inside his car.
Without a word, she tugged his button free, and then slowly drew the zipper down. Excitement built inside her, higher and higher, in anticipation of seeing him. She should hate him, hate this moment, but she felt perversely intrigued.
Pulling his pants open, she freed him from the confines of his cotton briefs, and…oh my. Another, greater wave of panic seized her as she stared at the solid length now resting in her palm. She couldn’t wrap her fingers completely around his arousal, and if he couldn’t even fit in her fist, how in the world would he ever fit in her body? She unconsciously squeezed him, and was rewarded by a low groan rumbling from his throat.
“Make me come.”
Despite his whispering, his words came through loud and clear, but she could also hear the tension in his voice. He wanted her to believe he was in total control, but this man, a man who liked so much to issue orders, was shaking beneath her touch.
That knowledge gave her more confidence than anything else could. Without waiting for his next command, she slid her palm over the slick tip of his shaft, and she used his own lubrication as her hand glided up and down its length. When his breathing quickened and she began moving faster, she knew it wouldn’t take her long to learn what would make him explode.
Yes, she might not have done this before, but his sighs and his praise told her what he liked, told her to move faster, to brush her thumb over his sensitive tip, to hold him tightly in her palm.
“Your mouth. I want your mouth on me,” he groaned, throwing back his head and breathing heavily. She leaned forward and took two inches of his arousal inside the warm recesses of her mouth.
As she sucked hard and continued to stroke him with one hand, while steadying herself on his body with the other, his pleasure resounded off the parking garage walls, and, even more encouraged, she took him deeper into her mouth. She felt him pulse, and her sighs mixed with his when his warm release coated her tongue and throat. His ecstatic groans sent euphoria through her entire body. She continued sucking him, intent on drawing out the last of his release, and then she slowly pulled back to look up at the man she’d pleasured — the first man. He leaned back farther against the car, and a sheen of sweat was visible on his forehead as he returned her look.
When several moments passed and her thighs began to wobble from the strain of her position, she wanted to get up but was afraid to do something wrong, something that would make him punish her by keeping her right there. As much as her body was screaming for something she didn’t understand, she wanted out of this very public place. If she was going to lose her virginity to this man, she would much, much rather have it happen behind closed doors.
“Stand up.”
Because her muscles were overworked, this command was more difficult to do, but she used his body as leverage and hoisted herself up, then took a second to stabilize herself before she retreated a step backward as he pulled his clothing back into place.
“You’ve done better than I expected,” he told her before looking at her pile of clothes. “Get dressed. It’s time to go inside and finish this.”
With that, he turned away from her and began walking toward what seemed to be a private elevator in the corner. Terrified he would leave her there, she quickly threw on her outer clothes, clutching her underclothes tightly in her hands as she chased after him, adjusting her blouse while stepping behind him into the elevator.
Fear had become a constant inside her, but fear wasn’t the only thing she was feeling right now — her body was burning with need, a need she’d never before experienced. Her thighs clenched together and she wondered what was wrong with her that she didn’t feel any shame after what had just happened.
Maybe it was the circumstances of being where she was with a man such as him, or maybe she didn’t think she should feel anything other than concern for her brother, but whatever it was, her heart pounded when the doors to the elevator opened and she stepped out along with Blake.
She feared that very soon she’d learn more about herself than she wanted to. Would she ever be able to look into the mirror again?
Chapter Eight
Though Blake had disguised his emotions like a professional poker player, he was shaken up. Yes, he was no newcomer to sexual pleasure — in fact, he’d thought he’d seen and felt it all. But when Jewell had performed her striptease for him, at his command, he’d had to force himself not to reach out for her.
He’d nearly lost control when she lowered herself to the ground and her sweet plump lips had closed around the head of his arousal. That just didn’t happen to him — he was always in complete command of his emotions. He wouldn’t allow himself to slip again.
He couldn’t escape her tantalizing scent as she stood silently beside him and finished adjusting her clothes. Unable to help himself, he watched her out of the co
rner of his eye. Although she’d just given him a mind-blowing orgasm, he wanted more. He wanted to feel himself sinking deep within her heat, feel her body cradling him.
Yes, Blake loved sex. He loved all sorts of sex, loved how for ten seconds the only thing he felt was pleasure — no stress, no worries, no thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow. That was his haven in a world that had been less than good to him.
And yes, he enjoyed the buildup to sex. He loved the way it felt to caress a woman’s body, to taste every inch of her skin, to hear her sounds as she was being pleasured. But something was different with the woman standing next to him. He wanted more, and that was unacceptable. She was basically a prostitute, a woman he’d paid for.
Most women were, though, weren’t they? It didn’t matter what their profession was. In the end they were all willing to use what turned men on to get an advantage, to get whatever they could.
He closed his eyes and was suddenly assailed by the sound of his mother screaming in pain. Snapping his eyes back open, he shook his head and forced out the eerie note of her dying voice.
It had been twenty-five years, and the anniversary of their death was approaching. He knew what that meant. He knew the next week was going to be hell. It didn’t matter how much he hardened himself. Nothing helped. Therapists had told him that time healed all wounds — they’d lied.
Time did nothing but haunt him and he’d learned only to numb himself from the pain as a means of self-protection. Like the fight-or-flight response, probably. But you could run on adrenaline for only so long before instinct grew exhausted and couldn’t be your savior anymore. What he felt, what he found to be the only answer to help ease the pain, was sex — lots and lots of sex with many women of all shapes, sizes, and colors. There were times he refused to have his needs met, just to prove to himself he could go without it. Only one thing was for sure — all women were like his mother. They all wanted to gain something, and in the end, they would all lose.
