More, Please (Please Series Book 3)

by Willow Summers

  “A red wine would be great, thanks.”

  “Stacy, honey…”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Carlisle.” She walked to the left, where a small bar was stationed. From the countertop she took a bottle, inspected the label, and then opened it. She poured two glasses.

  “Are you worried I might spike your drink, Livy?”

  Cold trickled down my spine with the familiar way he spoke to me. I hated that he’d used my nickname. He held the power here, or at least he thought he did, and it showed in his tone. He saw this as a victory over me, and over his son.

  I composed my face, doing everything I could not to grit my teeth or grimace. “A little,” I replied honestly. “You’re the type of man who is not afraid to cheat to get what he wants.”

  “Yes. I am.” He gave me that slimy smile as he took his glass of wine from Stacy. He waited until I took mine before raising his a little in a silent salute. After he took a sip, he crossed a leg over his knee and got comfortable. “I’ve backed my son into a corner. He has no choice but to part with you for a night. You see, he’s never been without more than enough money. Even though he’d be left with plenty of fortune for a normal man, he wouldn’t know how to function. He hasn’t had to scrape the bottom like I have. Add that to his lack of interest in those around him, and he’ll give his prize to his sworn enemy.”

  “You have him all figured out.”

  “He’s my son, after all.” Rodge took a slow sip of his wine, watching me over the rim of his glass. “And once I’ve had you, he won’t want you anymore. You do know that, right?”

  I swallowed. I did know that. Even though I wouldn’t sleep with Rodge, me being here would be enough to signify my guilt to Hunter. He’d be hard-pressed to believe me when I said I didn’t touch his dad, and worse, he would have a hard time forgiving me, if he ever did. In Hunter’s eyes, all this would be betraying him, not saving him. Hopefully the video would lessen the sting.

  I took a sip, trying to hide my hand shaking. Rodge gave me that slow smile again.

  “I knew Hunter would give you up, but I must admit, I didn’t know if you would agree. You must really care for my son…”

  “And by saying that, you’re saying I must really not like you…”

  Rodge chuckled as he reached to the table for a piece of cheese, bringing his body closer to me. “Part of this is exciting because I will be conquering you, of course.”

  “And that doesn’t bother your ego at all, huh? Having to coerce a woman into bed?”

  “Not at all. Some women flock to me because of money, some power—women always want something.”

  “What a limited view you have of the female species. So, by your definition, I am after something. What is that?”

  Rodge’s eyes shone as he looked at me. “My son, of course.”

  “Yes, but it’s an act of selflessness. That’s not wanting something—that’s giving to make someone else happy. I don’t fit into your definition of a female.”

  “If I allow him to get out of this contract, he’ll also have more money than me. More power. You’re going for the big prize.”

  “Except when he finds out I’m here, he won’t want me. So what’s the prize?”

  Rodge popped the cheese into his mouth as he stared at me. His eyes marginally squinted. “That, I’m afraid, I haven’t figured out. You’re a smart girl—much smarter than the girls he usually employs. What is your angle, Livy? You must have one.”

  Stacy walked in. “Sir, dinner is ready.”

  I stood, hardly having taken a sip of my wine. Rodge stood with me, still staring. Trying to figure me out.

  I gave him a sly smile. “Like I said, I don’t fit into your definition of female.”

  “You do. I just have to find out how.”

  I rolled my eyes as I followed Stacy. We passed through spacious rooms decorated with dark colors and strange modern art. The smell of cooking wafted toward me as we passed through an archway to a room with a large dining table featuring a large but low arrangement of flowers. The lights were dim here too. Two place settings faced each other across the middle of the table. I had hoped we would each be at either end, but he’d gone for the intimate approach. Unfortunately.

  I sat where Stacy indicated, putting my glass in front of me and resting my clutch on my knees, hidden by the tablecloth. My goal was to slip the drug into his drink toward the end of dinner, so that when we moved to a more intimate setting, he was already feeling drowsy.

  How I would do that was a concern. A big one. I wasn’t very sneaky.

  “You just want to get the night over with,” Rodge said as he settled.

  My stomach turned. Knowing my expression probably showed my distaste, I took a sip of wine. Lowering it slowly, I cleared my throat. “I’m here to fulfill my end of the agreement. I don’t have to like it, and, quite frankly, don’t plan to. But I’m no fool, Rodge. I don’t intend to…go through with this unless I have something signed from you, waiving your rights.”

  “What would you have me do, scribble it on a napkin?” He laughed as Stacy and another pretty girl, about the same age, and wearing the same outfit, delivered soup.

  “I brought something for you to sign. I won’t touch you until it’s signed.” I waited until the soup was in front of me and the women gone before I picked up my spoon and swirled it around. I had no appetite, and I really wondered if there was something in the food. I planned to drug him and leave—I wouldn’t put it past him to do the same to keep me here.

  Rodge’s face lost the smile. His eyes turned shrewd. “I’ll sign it after.”

  “No way. I want it before, or I’ll leave right now. I don’t trust you.”

  Rodge lifted the spoon to his mouth and sipped his soup slowly, some sort of creamy concoction that actually smelled really great.

  “Why do you want me, really, Rodge?” I asked despite myself. “You can get younger, obviously. And prettier. Why waste your time trying to force me? Why do you hate your son that much?”

  “I don’t hate my son. But I don’t like that he’s trying to rise above his station. I made him. I taught him, gave him a place to start his career. What does he do? He takes what I offer, and then uses it to leverage a better position. It doesn’t stop there. Rather than waiting until I die to receive his inheritance, he works out a deal to cut me out of his life early. Now I don’t have as much to offer another heir that would follow my teaching. So you see, I’m just balancing out the power once again. That’s all.”

  “What’s the matter, can’t marry into money again? All the women with their own fortunes see you coming, and the young ones still have Daddy to protect them?”

  He sneered at me. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand my situation.”

  “That’s probably a compliment.” I moved my spoon around my soup. “So you’re restacking the power in your favor…”

  Rodge gave me a smug smile. “Exactly. As it should be with father and son.”

  “You don’t have any other kids, though.”

  “No.” Rodge’s eyes flicked down at his soup for a brief moment as a sour expression crossed his face. It was gone almost immediately.

  “Ah. Not for lack of trying, though. You think going young will help, but it’s the old sperm that’s the problem…”

  His eyes snapped up to me, anger blasting out. Just like his expression from a moment before, though, the emotion was gone a moment later. Back to cool and collected, but I had affected him. That was a sore subject.

  “Anyway,” I said, “you’ll have me, you’ll devastate him again—so you think—and then you will, what? Dance naked in the moonlight? What will you gain?”

  Rodge gave a small shrug. “The upper hand. With a man like Hunter, the upper hand is a great thing. It really gets under his skin.”

  “You sound like an adolescent.” The girls came and removed our soup. I saw that Rodge’s was nearly empty, and I got a quirked eyebrow from Stacy, as my bowl was still almost full.


  Next came a chicken dish that also smelled truly divine. This I did sample, though with a churning stomach from just being in Rodge’s presence, not to mention the fear of what Hunter would say if he found out. I didn’t eat much before I laid down my fork and knife.

  “So tell me,” Rodge said conversationally as he cut into his meat, “how do you like graduating from a pristine college with a great education, only to become a secretary?”

  “First, executive assistants for large corporations make a lot of money. Second, I do much more than administrative duties.”

  “Of course you do.” He gave me a condescending smile as he raised his fork to his mouth. “And what will you do when Hunter fires you for fucking his father?”

  With shaking hands, I pushed my plate away and put my hands on my clutch. I took out the vial and emptied one of the pills into my palm. I had no idea how I was going to get it into his glass, but it was better to be ready than miss an opportunity.

  “I guess I’ll just have to wait and see…” I said in the same conversational tone.

  Rodge laughed, putting another bite into his mouth. “I’m no longer hiring, if that was your thought.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “I also don’t have room for a mistress.”

  “I’m heartbroken.”

  Rodge took a sip of his wine. “You seem like such a soft touch, Olivia. I thought you’d be a doormat. But you have some fire to you. You know your own mind.”

  “And let me guess—you hate that in a woman.”

  He laughed again, putting down his cutlery. “Only when she says no.”

  The girls came out and removed the plates. I got another quirked eyebrow. Dessert came and went, and eventually he stood, gesturing for me to do the same.

  “Shall we move to the den, Livy?”

  My stomach swirled and twisted. I followed him with shaking limbs and the overwhelming impulse to cry. I felt trapped. I wanted Hunter to come and save me, as stupid as that was. I wanted him to just barge in, say he’d found another way, and let me run out of here.

  I followed behind Rodge, and sat on the couch where I’d been before. This time, he sat right next to me. His cologne assaulted my nose and stung my eyes, the fragrance probably delightful on someone else, but sickly sweet on him.

  “I need you to sign that waiver,” I said with a trembling voice I couldn’t help. I scooted a little away, hating that his thigh was rubbing against mine.

  “What’s to prevent you from leaving if I sign it?”

  Rodge’s voice was low and husky. I felt a finger run softly up my arm.

  Shivering in disgust, I bent forward to my clutch, the pill still in my hand. I took out the folded waiver and held it up to him. “I’ll let you keep hold of it until after, and then I’ll take it and go. Immediately. I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

  Rodge took the piece of paper from me. He leaned forward and put his glass on the coffee table before straightening back up, angling away from me to catch some light in which to read.

  Seeing my opportunity, I grabbed the open bottle of wine left from before and poured us both full glasses. As I turned to straighten back up, I glanced at him, seeing him struggling to read the print. I dropped the pill into his drink, laughing to cover the small plunk. “Need glasses?” I taunted.

  Rodge’s brows lowered as his eyes shifted back and forth over the page.

  “You had someone draw this up,” he said.

  “Obviously. I’m not an idiot.”

  He lowered the paper, looking at me with a shrewd gaze. “Why are you doing this? I have to know.”

  “I’m the reason Hunter is in this mess. I’ll be the reason he gets out. I owe him that much.”

  Rodge squinted. “Why else? You don’t owe him your dignity.”

  I sipped my wine, remembering Kimberly’s comment about editing. “I love him.”

  Rodge laughed heartily at that, putting the waiver down on the table and taking up his wine glass. He took a large sip before shaking his head. “Now I see. Ensnared. You think this will make him love you back. What a fool you are. You should be after the money or power.” He shook his head again. “My son doesn’t love, Olivia. You must know that. He won’t get soft-hearted because you risked yourself for him.”

  “I don’t plan to tell him. I’d hoped you’d do the right thing and let me go…”

  He stood smoothly and crossed the room to a small desk in the corner. From it he extracted a pen, his eyes sparkling in the firelight when he was on his way back. When he returned, he casually signed and dated the form, leaving it where it was when he was through. He tossed the pen across the coffee table, took another sip of wine, and twisted toward me from the edge of the couch. His gaze roamed my body.

  “No. But if you’re good, and you scream real nice, I won’t tell him. You have to let yourself thoroughly enjoy it, though. I’m not the man you think, Livy. My hands can be surprisingly gentle…”

  I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. I knew he was being crude just to make this worse for me. He was playing mind games. I also knew he would try to get me to enjoy it so I hated myself for it. He’d take more time with that goal in mind.

  I had no intention of being around that long.

  Chapter Ten

  I took up my glass of wine and eyed the bottle. “Do I have to be sober for this?”

  He smiled as I took a big gulp of my wine. He followed suit, drinking most before setting his glass down and waiting for me.

  “Seriously. More.” I held out my glass. Smirking, he filled it, and filled his as well, emptying the bottle.

  “Why Blaire?” I asked, allowing him to hear the tremor in my voice. I wanted him to think I was stalling because I was nervous. Which I was.

  He leaned back with his body facing me. He strung his arm across the top of the couch, bending at the elbow so he could flick my hair with his fingers. “Her father had a struggling business when the economy crippled him. I wanted in on it, so I offered a bailout. Little did I know my shares wouldn’t be worth much when all was said and done.”

  “Why didn’t you marry her yourself?”

  “And take something her father wanted to get rid of? The woman is wild. She’s a handful, and she spends like the spoiled brat she is. I wanted nothing to do with her.”

  His fingers trailed down my cheek.

  I shivered, but prevented myself from jerking away. His oily smile said I didn’t prevent the grimace, though.

  “So you pawned her off on your son.”

  “Yes I did. I figured he’d just get used to her and eventually try to get her knocked up so he could finally have a child.” His delighted smile set off warning bells.

  “And why does that amuse you?” I asked in a weak voice, trying to ignore his hand trailing down my neck.

  “Because she can’t have babies. Or so her father said when he’d had too much brandy. She got her tubes tied—never wanted the little leeches, apparently.”

  “And Hunter doesn’t know that?”

  “Of course not.”

  I blinked in disbelief. “Are you a sociopath? You’re his father! How can you be so cruel?”

  “Like I said, he left me. My company wasn’t good enough for him. Too small. I don’t let betrayal go unpunished.”

  I rolled my eyes, and then shuddered in disgust as his hand dipped in toward my chest and ran over the swell of my breast.

  “I can’t—” I jerked away, hating his touch. Hating this house and everything about this.

  I squeezed my eyes tight, desperately wondering why I hadn’t used two pills. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Stalling just prolongs the inevitable,” he said with a smile in his voice.

  I opened my eyes, my hate-filled glare landing on him. It made his smile burn brighter. I looked at the waiver lying on the table.

  “I’ll do you right near, then you can take it and go. No sassle.”

  The lump in my throat was ba
ck. My eyes stung. I hated this. Only then did what he had said leak into my brain.

  I turned back to him, noticing his eyes drooping just a little bit. Swallowing, I leaned back, aiming my chest toward him so the camera would catch everything. I didn’t make a move toward him, though. I left my hands in my lap, stiff.

  His smile turned hungry. He reached out with a slightly limp hand, hitting the center of my chest. His brow creased a little as he adjusted, flopping his palm onto my breast.

  “Just get this over with,” I said, turning my face toward the couch back.

  As expected, he chuckled darkly, slowing down. He moved over to the other breast before working with numb fingers at the strap on my dress.

  “Snur faburn.” His eyebrows pinched over his eyes before his head rolled. He looked at his hand before his head rolled again. His body fell against the couch back, and he reached out to me.

  I caught his hand by the wrist and held it. He pulled back, which only succeeded in tipping his body toward me when I wouldn’t let go of his hand. I hopped up quickly, grabbed his glass, crossed the room to the small bar, and poured it down the sink. I did the same with mine, then brought the decanter of brandy to the coffee table and left it there, along with two snifter glasses, both with a little of the brown liquid in the bottom.

  Moving quickly, I took out the condom and lotion before snatching the waiver from the coffee table and jamming it into my clutch. With shaking hands, hoping none of the maids tiptoed in to check on things, I made sex sounds as I ripped the condom pack and unrolled the latex. I squeezed the small bit of white lotion into the end before dropping it and the wrapper on the ground.

  A quick glance told me the coast was still clear, so I heaved his body fully onto the couch, on his back, before ripping open his fly and yanking it down.

  “This so sucks,” I muttered, ripping his shirt open. Buttons flew all over. I didn’t care. I yanked open his pants a moment later and reached into his small briefs to find an erect penis.

  “Oh, ew,” I said with bile rising in my throat. He must’ve taken Viagra.