by Cynthia Dane
What game? Getting money out of men? Jasmine had to take a deep breath to calm her nerves. “I’m not playing any game. In fact, things are going well with him.”
“I bet they are.”
The numbers above the door were not going down fast enough. “He told me about Monica,” she said. “About the three of you.”
“Did he now?” Genuine surprise laced his voice. “That feels like such a long time ago. My precious kitten has been with only me for so long now. Sometimes I forget Ethan ever had her at all. In fact,” he turned to Jasmine, his balance perfect for standing in a moving elevator, “it’s weird to think that he sold her to me.”
Jasmine snapped her head around and gazed at this man as if he were from another planet. “What did you say?”
“Sold her. That’s how it works.” If this were any other subject, Jackson would look like the know-it-all uncle telling his rural family members something new from the city. “In this kind of lifestyle, we own our women. For a while Ethan and I had equal share in my little buttercup. When he didn’t want her anymore, he offered to sell his half of the shares to me. You see, it’s all business in the end. Paid a pretty penny for her too.”
That’s… Jasmine snatched her jaw shut out of fear of playing into his sick mind. “I don’t believe you.” The elevator touched down on the ground floor. The activity of the real world burst in front of her as she stepped out and toward the cafeteria. Eventually she stopped and turned around, finding Jackson close behind her. “I don’t believe he would do such a thing. Use women as cattle and barter their bodies.”
Jackson continued to smile in that greasy way. “But isn’t that what he’s doing with you? Buying your body?” He pointed to the choker on her throat, which she had forgotten she wore. That’s what Nadia had been staring at…
“Certainly not!” Jasmine turned with a huff, her heels clicking on the floor as she carried herself to the cafeteria. Thankfully, Jackson did not follow her. But he did remain, hanging around like a creepy specter who only wanted to remind Jasmine of her place.
She didn’t need reminding. She did a fantastic enough job of worrying about that herself. The choker snatched off her throat as she shoved it into her purse before anyone else could judge her for it.
Part 5 - Payouts
Letter From Ethan
Dearest Jasmine,
You may have noticed that it’s difficult for me to express myself sometimes. That’s why it’s taken me so long and in this way to tell you how much I…
Ethan crumpled up yet another piece of paper and tossed it into the garbage can by his desk. He pulled out a clean sheet and tried again.
Jasmine, I lov-
His hands jerked against his desk as frustration overcame him. No, no, no. This wasn’t good enough. It was never good enough! For two hours Ethan sat at that desk and tried to compose the perfect letter to tell Jasmine how he really felt. Whatever he felt. Sometimes he wasn’t sure.
Was that why he had a small mountain of crumpled papers by his desk? Ethan could talk his way out of any boardroom, but telling a woman how much he…
Damnit, he couldn’t even think it!
30
“Try to keep up, will you?”
Jasmine waited at the crossing light for Ethan to catch up with her. Funny, considering she was the one weighed down with shopping bags. Ethan had one large bag in his hand as he slowly caught up to his bought and paid for girlfriend. “And where are you in a hurry to?” His free hand flicked some of the white fuzz on Jasmine’s coat. It was a ridiculous thing, made of synthetic fur that almost looked like a boa. Normally Jasmine wouldn’t wear such tacky clothing, but she was on vacation in a new city, where she could wear whatever she wanted if she wanted to feel like a diva. And I do!
“Nowhere in particular.” The crossing light changed, and Jasmine stepped out into the narrow street. Ethan followed behind, both of their sunglasses big and reflecting the Pacific Northwest light - or what there was of it. “Although we could go back to the hotel room.” She batted her eyelashes at him even though he wouldn’t be able to see them through her sunglasses.
He caught up with her on the sidewalk. “You just want room service,” he said.
Although her hands were laden with bags, Jasmine lifted one of her arms and poked him in the chest. “You look like the kind of guy who could use some room service himself.”
“Touché.” He walked ahead of her now, taking one brisk step after another. Jasmine hurried after him.
They could have taken the car, but the traffic was thick and the downtown area of Portland easily walkable. At first Jasmine was worried they would get into trouble carrying around so many expensive looking items, but Ethan assured her that he did this every year when he came for a conference and never had any problems. Well, you’re a guy. But if Ethan felt confident, Jasmine would too. She had long since decided to trust him almost blindly. It was the only way she could continue this relationship without questioning every decision she made.
The hotel they were staying at was a good ten minute walk away, but in the refreshing Northwestern air Jasmine barely broke a sweat even with all her bags weighing her down. The doorman welcomed them back and kept the door open for both Ethan and Jasmine. “Should I have a shipper sent to the room for you and the lady?” he asked before closing the door.
Ethan shook his head. “Not right now. We’ll call down for one when we need it.”
“Very well, sir.” Jasmine could no longer hear the doorman after the elevator opened and closed around her.
Ethan sighed, leaning against one of the mirrored walls. “I haven’t shopped like that in a while.” He held up his one bag and then looked at Jasmine’s many bags. “I’m guessing you haven’t either.”
Only when I’m spending your money. When Ethan offered to take her shopping that day, she was both thrilled and frustrated. Thrilled because what red-blooded woman would give up the chance to spend someone else’s millions? Frustrated because sometimes she got a little fed up with being pampered all the time. Oh, who was she kidding? She loved being pampered. The real problem that caught up to her conscience sometimes was the idea of taking these gifts in exchange for sex. “You know what?” She held up her bags for him to see. “This isn’t even going to make a dent in your bank account. So hush.” She smiled at him, just to make sure he didn’t take that the wrong way.
He smiled back. “I wasn’t complaining. I love to take people shopping. It’s one of the few things I can do to make people happy.”
Jasmine lowered her arms again. “Is that so? You know how else you can make people happy?”
“How’s that?”
“Give your employees a raise.”
“Now let’s not get too crazy.”
The elevator dinged open, and they were at the executive suite Ethan reserved for the week. He was in Portland for some hoity-toity business conference. Something about being the biggest one of its kind in the whole country. Jasmine couldn’t remember the details. As his personal assistant, she accompanied him to take notes at every speech and presentation. It was also her job to memorize the names and faces of some of the other business elites there. While Ethan naturally knew most of them, there were some up and comers and international folks he had yet to have the pleasure to meet. When he introduced himself to them, Jasmine would whisper into his ear what the person’s name and business was. That person was always impressed when the Ethan Cole knew who they were. Thus, new and important business relationships were formed.
But as his girlfriend, she came for something else entirely. Such as a whirlwind vacation with a man who wanted to spoil her silly – both in and out of the bedroom.
Today was a day off from the conference. They would be returning home the next day, compliments of a beautiful private plane that Ethan owned. When they flew to Portland almost a week ago, Jasmine swore she had never had a smoother ride in her life. Ethan proved that wrong when he took her
into a separate room and gave her an even smoother ride on his body. The best part? The collar was off.
That weird thing. Jasmine still wasn’t sure how she really felt about it. While it had done its job giving them clear boundaries on what was expected in the bedroom, she still felt strange putting it on when he asked, which was about once a week. For nearly two months this had continued. Sometimes Ethan could be demanding whenever she was wearing that collar. Jasmine was expected to obey like a good sub, but sometimes she wanted to throw her hands up and just walk out through the door. Or roll over and go to sleep in bed. She never said the safe word, because she had yet to encounter something she couldn’t handle, but sometimes she wondered if she was truly okay with it, or if she was becoming numb to the sort of thing Ethan liked.
There was also the consideration that their relationship was coming to the six month mark. It was June now. Only a few more weeks and Ethan would make the decision of whether or not he wanted to extend their contract. Oh, and Jasmine would get about three-million dollars. So she didn’t have to work unless she really wanted to. Basically, it came down to whether or not she wanted to continue such a relationship with Ethan.
Maybe I can just have a girlfriend part and quit working altogether. Move into the penthouse with her cat and save money by having him pay for everything. Although then he wouldn’t get his office blowjobs, and that would be terrible. Jasmine rolled her eyes just to think of it. If things went that way, she would have to spontaneously show up at his office just to have sex with him there. The more she thought about it, the more like a game it felt.
“I suppose we should have some of the stuff mailed back.” Ethan took stock of their shopping bags… mostly Jasmine’s. I made sure I had lots of nice clothes to wear for work. Her closet was slowly filling with designer wear. “It would be a pain in the ass to take on the plane.”
Said the man who didn’t have to go through security. But neither did Jasmine now, come to think of it. Now that’s living the life.
She helped him organize their purchases and took over when he went to call the front desk about sending up the shipping company representative. Within an hour a delivery guy was there, packing up their purchases, taking them up, and writing down either Jasmine’s or Ethan’s address. I better be home to answer the door to sign for this. No way in hell was a box full of Prada lasting more than five seconds on her stoop.
While she toiled away with her purchases, Ethan ordered some dinner and then shooed the deliveryman away so they could eat in peace.
It was during dinner that he got a random phone call. Random because he looked at it quizzically as if he couldn’t believe who was calling. “Hello?” His tone was serious. “Monica?”
Jasmine looked up from her plate. Ethan stood, keeping his voice low as he took the conversation into the entryway, where Jasmine couldn’t hear.
Of course, she wanted to hear the entire conversation. Ever since she saw Monica with those injuries several weeks ago, the woman had not been a constant in anyone’s life. That creep Jackson Lyle still stopped by the office regularly, but now his dove or his buttercup or whatever he was calling her was nowhere to be seen. Neither did Jasmine see her hanging around the cafeteria nor sitting in her chair while she waited for her master or what the fuck ever to get done with his meetings.
Honestly, Jasmine worried about her. Every day.
She knew it was none of her business. But suspecting that Jackson was hurting Monica to the point that she couldn’t leave the house was an inkling in Jasmine’s imagination. What is he doing to her? Do I even want to know? Probably not.
It was those things that concerned Jasmine as she thought about the lifestyle Ethan led. He claimed to not be into that sort of thing, but sometimes she caught a glimmer in his eye as they were role-playing. Easy for him to say he didn’t want her to be a sub twenty-four-seven. But as long as Ethan associated with men like Jackson Lyle, it didn’t speak well for his character.
Jasmine wished she knew what they were talking about. Wait, no, she didn’t. It would probably only depress her.
Ethan returned a few minutes later, his face pale and his lips taut. “What did she want?” Jasmine asked. She tried to not sound accusatory.
He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he speared a piece of cooked broccoli with his fork and chewed it methodically. “Nothing much,” he said after swallowing. “Just had some questions.”
“I see.” Jasmine waited for him to continue. He didn’t.
However, she could tell that he was hiding something from her. Not in a sinister way, but in a way to protect Monica’s privacy. Whatever she had wanted, it probably had to do with Jackson and what he was doing to her. Right now Ethan Cole’s mind must be swimming in allegiances. Of course, that was only what Jasmine garnered on her own.
After dinner, Ethan called for room service to take the dirty dishes away. Normally he waited for them to check in on their own, but tonight he seemed particularly irritable and wary of having things lying around. Jasmine gave him some space by going out on the balcony by herself. She sat in a wrought iron chair and gazed upon the small city tucked between rivers and shining beneath the cloudy sky. Jasmine had always heard that the Pacific Northwest was rainy and dark. But there was a certain lightness that came through even though the sun was covered. She didn’t think she would want to live here, but to visit once a year wouldn’t be so bad. The warm breeze tickling her skin made her sigh. She only went back inside to grab a glass of wine and bring it back out. Ethan was nowhere to be found. Either in the bathroom or gone out for a minutes. It wasn’t Jasmine’s business. She sat with her wine, watching the world go dark behind the Portland skyline.
Shadows were consuming her and the rest of the balcony by the time the glass door slid open and Ethan stood there, jacket off and his grim face staring into the back of Jasmine’s head.
“Get in here,” he said. “Now.”
Jasmine remained frozen in her seat. What is with that tone? At first she was afraid to get up and investigate. But when she finally swung her legs over the chair she realized that Ethan was back in the hotel room, pacing back and forth with Jasmine’s collar dangling from his hands.
Her throat went dry.
“Here.” Ethan shoved the collar in Jasmine’s hands and leaned against the back of a couch in the middle of the room.
She looked at it, at her name engraved along the inside. “What’s this all of a sudden?”
Ethan scoffed, as if she should have had the collar on by now and be doing whatever he demanded of her. Fat chance. Jasmine stood tentatively back as Ethan went to the complimentary bar and mixed himself a hard drink. He did not offer her one. “Don’t want to do it?” His voice was almost accusatory.
“It’s not that.” She watched him down half his drink with a shudder. “I’m just thinking that there’s something else going on here. What was that phone call about? What are you…”
Ethan stepped beside her, the stern look on his face telling her to keep quiet. Jasmine pressed her lips together and forced herself to maintain eye contact. The collar wasn’t on… yet. She wasn’t a sub in this moment. “That was a private conversation that does not concern you.” He took another drink, the glass now almost empty. “Put it on.” He motioned to the collar in Jasmine’s hand.
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Then don’t.”
“And?” There was a catch.
His brows furrowed. “And I won’t be very pleased.”
What an ass. The collar tightened in Jasmine’s hands. “So you want me to put on this collar so you can…”
“Yes?”
Jasmine turned away, unable to look at him when he was being so rude. “Do God knows what to me.”
Bottles and ice tapped together as Ethan made himself another round. “For God’s sake, Jasmine, I’m not going to hurt you.”
He almost said it tenderly, which threw Jasmine off. Is he just am
ping himself up for a role-play? So quickly? “It’s not that I think you’ll hurt me. It’s out of left field and I’m not sure I’m in the mood for that kind of sex. At least butter me up first before we have a scene.”
“You want me to get you in the mood?” Ice rattled in his glass, and Jasmine could smell the whisky from half a room away. “Put on the collar and let’s get started.”
The strange thing about this was that Jasmine couldn’t believe it was what he wanted so suddenly. No. Something tipped him off. It wasn’t Monica, was it? Jasmine refused the notion that Monica had flirted with or otherwise aroused Ethan. Was he even aroused? That wasn’t a look of lust or a need for relief behind his narrow eyes. No, Ethan wanted something else entirely.
Jasmine wasn’t sure she wanted to know.