One Contract (The Game Book 1)

by LP Lovell

  TOBIAS BENTON

  WITNESS

  _______________________ _________________________(SEAL)

  PRESTON LUCAS

  After reading, I sign.

  A small smile pulls at Tobias's lips when he glances at the ink scrawled across the crisp white paper. "And just so you know, there are no safe words," he says, taking the contract and turning his back on me.

  This is how Tobias Benton became one of the richest and most successful men in the world.

  I never stood a chance.

  3

  I glance around nervously at Preston. He cradles the champagne flute against his chest as he watches me like I’m a caged animal. I'm not sure if I feel less nervous now that Tobias is gone because while he intimidates me, he strikes me as a man with rules. The contract...that feels like it came from him. Preston on the other hand, I get the feeling he may be the wild card of the two, the loose cannon.

  Placing his drink on the table, he looks at me. "Let's be on our way then."

  "I have to go to my apartment and—"

  "No. You don't. You don't need anything but your lovely self, and besides, it’s all been taken care of." I open my mouth to speak and he presses his finger to my lips, one brow raised. "No questions and complete submission, remember?"

  Nodding, I swallow. What have I just agreed to?

  His serious expression cracks into a sexy grin and then he winks. He offers me his arm, and I take it, brushing my fingers over the expensive material of his suit jacket.

  We head towards the elevator and he pulls a card key from his pocket, swiping it through the reader. A dim green light blinks and he shoves the card back inside his pocket. As we wait, my mind whirls with thoughts. Seven days. Starting at this very moment. I have nothing with me. No one knows where I am. No one knows where I am. The doors to the elevator open and we step inside.

  "People may wonder where I've disappeared to," I say cautiously.

  He turns and closes the distance between us, backing me up until I'm cornered against the wall of the tiny elevator. His face dips to my neck and he drags his nose up the side of my throat, inhaling. I try to breathe, to focus on something that isn't the heat of his body or the scent of his cologne. I don't know this man, and he tries to intimidate me at every turn which is why I shouldn't like this, I shouldn't want it, but I do, and I fear something may be wrong with me.

  "Are you worried that we might do something awful to you?" His lips brush my ear lobe.

  "No..." My heart rate steadily increases the longer I wonder if they may actually hurt me. Wondering why two men like them would pay such a ridiculous amount of money for a stranger to be at their beck and call for a week.

  His teeth nip at my ear. "That no one knows where you are..." he whispers.

  I swallow heavily. "I just..." I drag in a breath because I feel as though I'm suffocating, "I just don't want to worry my...my friends, you know, it will be strange that I just disappear for a week."

  "You don't have anyone who will care enough to even notice you're gone." And my heart stops it's rhythmic drumming for the briefest of moments as my blood runs cold with sudden fear. "Careful..." he says, warning me. “Complete submission. Mind, body, soul...Don't lie to me." He takes one step away from me. His dark eyes lock with mine, and that condescending glare makes me want to disappear into the wall.

  "I just..." My heart is banging so hard now that a dizzy heat washes over me. "I..." The elevator continues to fall, passing each floor with a beep. My muscles have grown so tense that the fibers burn, and the longer he stares at me, the heavier I feel.

  "We own you, Ella. For seven days, everything that you are no longer exists."

  The space around me spins and swirls, the colors smearing together. A shrill ring pierces my ears and then...complete darkness.

  I come to, my body drenched with sweat, my hair matted to my head. The hum of tires over the pavement vibrate beneath me and it feels like I’m moving. I’m in a car. The familiar scent of expensive cologne wraps around me, and when I open my eyes, I'm staring up at Tobias's green eyes. Passing headlights flicker over his face as he watches me. His dark brows pull tightly together and then he looks away. Placing my hand to my head, I sit up, but everything’s still spinning.

  "Ah, sleeping beauty awakes," Preston drawls, taking cigarette from his mouth and flicking it out the open window. I’m trapped between them in the back of this car. My gaze shifts from him to Tobias and back again, and after out encounter in the elevator, I suddenly feel foolish for ever thinking that Preston was the safer of the two. They're both dangerous.

  My gaze swings to the raised partition that separates us from the driver.

  "The driver’s aware of the situation," Tobias says. “Don’t worry.”

  I want out. Every bit of survival instinct inside of me is going off right now, telling me to run, but sometimes the reward outweighs the risk. These two men, they are a great risk. I don't know them. They want to buy me. Fuck me. Possibly murder me... and I signed a contract saying that was okay. Brilliant Ella. It was like they possessed me on that rooftop and now, now I’m with them. My chest grows tight at my stupidity, but then again, I am literally at the bottom of the barrel. I have nothing. Will have nothing, and this...arrangement could afford me a security I will never again have the opportunity for. The definition of a whore: to debase oneself for unworthy motives. A million dollars, saving myself from complete bankruptcy, how is that unworthy? But still…

  "I'm not..." I stumble over my words. "I'm not sure if I want to..."

  Tobias’s steely gaze drifts over to me, and I flinch.

  "You're scaring her, Tobias," Preston says, smiling as he crooks a finger at me. "Come here, sweet Ella."

  Tobias nods. Preston grabs my wrist, dragging me into his lap and placing my legs on either side of his. And he keeps pulling me closer until my dress rides up my thighs and my body presses against his. His dark eyes drop to my lips as he gently brushes the hair from my neck. The mixture of the fear rippling through my veins and the sensation of his feather light caress over my skin sends a shiver traveling down my spine.

  He takes one of my hands and places it on his warm chest. "Tell me what you feel?" he whispers just inches from my mouth.

  My fingers glide over the soft material of his shirt, and I flatten my palm against his chest. The beat of his heart is steady and even against my hand.

  “What do you feel, Ella?”

  "You," I choke. "And you scare me."

  His full lips twist into a smirk as he traces his fingertips across my cheek. That touch is so soft, so tender—the touch of a lover, and yet, that is not what this man is. Far from it. His forehead touches mine, his smoke tinged breath blowing over my face. "Fear is what makes us feel alive." And then his lips press against mine, warm and hard. Soft yet demanding. For a few seconds, I forget, I forget about the contract. I forget that I'm in a car with two men I don't know, and I forget that the man kissing me wants me to be his whore.

  And why?

  Because he makes it disappear. He makes me want to sell a lot more than my body for this sensation, this pull, this need. His hand slides up my back, pulling me so tightly against his chest that my back bows. The only thing between my bare pussy and his hardening cock is the material of his pants. And there is something so erotic in that thought. My hands glide over his hard chest, shamelessly wanting, begging for more of him. I part my lips and tentatively touch my tongue to his. He groans, his grip on me tightening. And then he grabs my jaw, shoving me away with a smug smile. Heat stings my cheeks and I attempt to look anywhere but at him. His grip on my jaw tightens and he forces me to look up at him.

  "So fucking beautiful." He leans forward. "So fucking perfect. And I haven't even been inside you yet, little lamb," he groans against my ear.

  A small laugh seeps from his lips as he carefully moves me away from his lap and into the seat between him and Tobias.

  Their gazes lock and something passes betwe
en them. "She's going to be a problem," Preston says, readjusting himself.

  Tobias drags his eyes over my bare legs. "Indeed."

  The driver drops us at the door and I walk toward the entrance, with each man on either side of me. The bellman opens the door. "Good Evening Mr. Benton, Mr. Lucas."

  They both nod and I look straight ahead.

  "You are here by choice," Tobias leans down and mumbles by my ear. "Try not to look like a prisoner."

  I take a deep breath and try to relax, but can't manage it. Women stare at them as we pass, some of them cast a jealous glance in my direction. We stop in front of the elevator and a man in a business suit steps beside Tobias. "How long are you in town this time?" he asks.

  "Seven days."

  "Longer stop than usual," the stranger says.

  "Wanted to enjoy myself this time." His eyes cut down to me and he smirks just as the doors slide open. And we step inside—me, Tobias, Preston, and the other man.

  The entire way up to the penthouse, the three men talk business and I attempt to act normal. When the doors finally slide open to the empty hallway, I find it hard to move. Preston takes me gently by the arm and leads me off and down the hall. Tobias stops in front of the last door, unlocks it, and pushes it open into a marble foyer that feeds into a large living room. White walls. Sleek black leather furniture. Abstract art hangs over the white stone fireplace, the brilliant Manhattan skyline glittering through the large floor to ceiling windows below.

  Preston walks straight to the back room, and Tobias tosses the keys onto the wet bar. I watch as he unscrews the top to a crystal decanter and pours a glass of whiskey. Slowly, he turns, his eyes locking on mine as he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a long sip. "You need to clean yourself up." He motions with his finger for me to follow him, so I do, biting back the questions plaguing my mind.

  We go into the bedroom where Preston is sprawled out on the massive four poster bed, scrolling through his phone. Tobias takes my hand and leads me into the bathroom. He places his drink on the granite vanity, opens the glass door to the shower and turns the water on, all the while, his eyes never leave mine.

  "Get undressed," he says as he takes his drink in his hand again.

  Closing my eyes, I remind myself that this agreement is my salvation, my only way out of complete bankruptcy. So, I take a breath and grab the bottom of my dress, lifting it over my head.

  "Look at me," he says, his deep voice booming around the open bathroom.

  I open my eyes and meet his intense gaze, those moss-green eyes of his constantly swirling with something mysterious, untouchable, something that makes me feel like he may be, in some sense, a god—a master of something. I unfasten my bra and drop it to the floor. Tobias's eyes drift to the shower and I step in, closing the door behind me. The hot water serves as a form of release for my tightly wound muscles and I throw my head back, soaking my hair. For a moment, I forget where I am, until I look up and see Tobias staring at me through the foggy glass.

  He smirks. "Turn towards me and put your foot on the bench." I do as I’m told and place my foot on the cold stone seat built into the wall. "Touch yourself," he says.

  "Are you just going to stand there and watch?" I ask, and the very moment I do, he storms toward the shower door, placing his face so close his breath fogs the glass. His eyes gleam. "Strike one."

  "But..."

  "Questions, Ella, and let's not forget that last rule. Complete submission."

  I want to scream, but instead, I glare at him, anger coursing through me as I lower my hand between my legs and slowly trace my finger over my pussy. His gaze is still locked on my eyes when I slip my finger inside, and as shameful as it is, I am soaking wet. Terrified of him, yet more turned on than I ever have been in my life. I lean closer to the glass, my nipples barely grazing its cool surface, condensation carving its way down the shower door. And I moan, sinking another finger deep inside of me as I open my legs wider, begging him to look. I close my eyes. I fuck myself harder with my hand and toss my head back, the warm water cascading down my shoulder. One hand roams over my body, pinching and squeezing while the other sinks harder and faster, coaxing something much deeper than simple pleasure from me. I tilt my head back up and stare at him. His eyes are glued to me, to my hand that's so deep inside my body. I bite down on my lower lip and groan, "Tobias..." And he presses his palms against the glass as though he needs something to hold him up. This—this is erotic in every sense to have a man so powerful, so in control watching me through a sheet of glass as though I'm something prized, something on display for only him to enjoy.

  Pressure builds between my legs, my knees threatening to give way to the sudden weight of my body, and when that blissful heat explodes throughout me, I buckle over on a deep moan, gasping for air. The very moment that high fades, the sense of empowerment I felt vanishes and is replaced by a sense of filth. I stand up and Tobias stares at me with a smirk.

  "Now wash yourself off." With that, he leaves the bathroom.

  And I'm left wondering what exactly it is I've gotten myself into.

  4

  I wake in the morning, and for a second, I forget where I am, what I’ve agreed to. I stretch, brushing my fingers over the expensive bed sheets. I take a deep breath and wish I could just stay here, but I can't.

  I get up and brush my teeth, splashing cold water on my face. I stare at my reflection, tracing my finger over the dark circles below my eyes from sleepless nights. My hair sits in wild blonde waves around my shoulders. And I can’t help but wonder, why would they want me? All of this is insane, but that is the thing I cannot understand. I'm distinctly average in every way. At least if I manage to make it through the week, I won't have to lose sleep over my ever-growing pile of bills, although, I may lose sleep for entirely different reasons. Sighing, I walk into the enormous closet at the far side of the room. It's stocked with endless rack of clothing. I run my fingers over the soft material of one dress, and I can tell by the feel of it that it’s worth more than I make in a month. Up and down the length of the closet, all that hangs from the rack are dresses. My fingers trail over the skirts as I make my way to the wooden drawers set in the back wall of the closet. I open the middle drawer. Inside are lace panties. In the next drawer, silky camisoles and shorts. There's literally nothing comfortable or appropriate in here. And as far as I can see, no bras. I guess they don't want their expensive purchase wrapped up and covered.

  Sighing, I put on a white cotton tank top and a pair of the thin shorts. I don't bother with the underwear, because honestly, what's the point?

  When I open the bedroom door, tension coils inside me. It’s like walking into the lion’s den, albeit one I willingly threw myself into. And now, I must face the consequences of that decision.

  I follow the scent of coffee to the kitchen, and I’m practically trembling by the time I reach the doorway. Both Preston and Tobias are standing by the cabinets, topless and wearing workout pants. Tight skin lays over hard muscles. Shadows settle in the ridges and valleys of their defined stomachs as they move around the room, talking. A thin sheen of sweat covers Tobias’s chest, and I force myself not to stare as I linger in the doorway, unable to take that last step into the room and make myself known.

  Finally, Tobias notices me. "Ella."

  The tension in the room suddenly thickens. My instincts beg me to turn and run, but I force myself to stand still.

  "Hey.” That one word shouldn’t be so difficult to manage.

  Preston smirks, dragging a hand through his long blond hair. "Coffee?" He holds a mug up. I nod as I step into the room and take it from him. I take a seat at the breakfast bar and try not to look at either of them, though I can feel the weight of their eyes on me. It’s bad enough with one of them, but with them both, I want to shrink under their attention.

  "You're pretty when you blush," Tobias says beside me. I glance at him nervously, and then back at the mug in front of me. "I have a meeting this morning," he sa
ys, moving to the other side of the breakfast bar next to Preston. "Preston will look after you."

  Preston locks eyes with me, and I swallow hard at all the possibilities that lay within those seemingly innocent words. Tobias walks behind Preston, sliding his hand over the tanned skin of Preston's abs. My eyes flick to his flexing stomach before lifting back up to his dark stare. He's watching me, waiting, gaging my reaction. Maybe I should find it strange—the sight of Tobias's hand on Preston's body—but I don’t. It has me feeling things, wanting things that I've never even thought about before.

  I don’t know how long the stare between us lasts, but I’m so riveted by it, I barely notice Tobias leave the room.

  "Looks like it's just you and me."

  I cradle my coffee, as though clutching it may somehow serve as a barrier between us. My pulse skips and pounds, and I nod. His eyes drop to my chest and my nipples tighten under his gaze.

  He moves around the breakfast bar, his eyes never leaving mine as he stalks toward me. I place my coffee on the counter and he spins my stool, bringing me to face him. He towers over me, his broad chest eye level as his hand wraps around my neck. A small gasp leaves my lips when he pulls me to my feet. He picks me up and sets me on the counter. With one fluid movement, he drags my shorts down my legs, and his eyes lock on my pussy. Closing his eyes, he inhales, his hands gliding along the inside of my thighs.

  "No panties," he says in a groan, his nostrils flaring as he softly brushes his thumb over my clit, the gentle sensation causing my body to react with a violent jump. "Such a dirty little girl. What to do with you?" he says, sinking to his knees in front of me.

  He glances up through his dark lashes, the smallest of smirks playing across his lips before the very tip of his tongue brushes over me in a single swipe. My fingers ball into fists and I find myself scooting away from him, but he reaches up and grabs onto my ass, pulling me right back to him.