But he didn’t open the door. Instead he turned to me, pinned me down with that dark gaze.
“Was there something else?” I hated how breathy my voice sounded. I took a step back to put some space between us, but it didn’t seem to matter. The intensity did not let up.
Then that willful smile again. “No. I’d better not ask,” he muttered, almost to himself, and I wondered what he’d had in mind. But he still didn’t move. His hand on the chrome door handle tightened, the skin around his knuckles paling. This close I could see every feature, his glossy black hair, his dark eyes, his long straight nose and strong jaw. I swallowed and glanced to the side.
“Mr. Drake—”
“Adam,” he said, his voice quiet, firm. Then he did something I could hardly believe. He put his free hand to my chin, tilting my head up so he could look at my face. His thumb ran along my jawline and I forced myself not to jump back. I didn’t hate the touch—quite the opposite. Even as my nervousness grew, I had to remind myself that he’d be touching a lot more than that very soon. I met his gaze, managing not to flinch.
“Call me Adam,” he said, brushing his thumb over my jaw again. “It’s only fitting, given that we’ll be seeing each other naked soon.”
My mouth dropped, cheeks flushing. The reaction seemed to amuse him. I knew this must be some kind of test to gauge my response. I didn’t care. Things were finally starting to get real. I stepped back from his grip and lifted my chin. “This isn’t a done deal. I could always change my mind.” I said, hating how my voice trembled.
He nodded. “You could. And if you can’t bring yourself to hear it talked about, you probably shouldn’t go through with it.”
It wasn’t that he was talking about it. It was the way he was talking about it. But I stayed silent, strongly wishing myself out of this room and miles away.
He leaned toward me so that our faces were only inches from each other. I caught a whiff of his clean scent. My senses reeled, my heart hammered. “In the end, after all the legal talk, after all of the technical Latin terms we’ve been throwing around, this is going to be about two people. In bed—and probably other places. Fucking.”
The guy had the social skills of a caveman. Any minute I expected him to grab me by the hair and drag me out of the place with a club resting on his shoulder. Maybe he had to pay regularly to get his sex. He was a computer geek, after all. A hot computer geek, I’d admit, but still. Those guys planted their butts in front of the computer for hours, crunching code. When did they have the time to go out and pick up a girlfriend?
I decided to give him a little of his own medicine, giving him the once-over, resting my eyes on his chest, his crotch. Unfortunately, that didn’t bring about the desired effect.
He had that boyish grin again. “Yes, this is definitely going to be fun,” he said.
“You’ll be paying enough for it.”
The amusement evaporated from his eyes and they hardened so suddenly that I almost gasped to see the change in them. “We’ll be in touch, Emilia.” He stepped back and jerked open the door, waving me to pass through before him. The gentlemanly gesture came too late to impress me.
I straightened and managed not to wobble on my heels, remembering to keep my shoulders back. My mother’s voice nagging me about my poor posture rang in my head. Maybe it came from all the time I spent hunched over my keyboard playing video games.
It occurred to me that I still had no idea who this guy was. Video game designer? Multimillionaire? How does a designer get so rich? What was his story? He was really young. I would have pegged him for younger than twenty-six, yet still so arrogant, so in command and sure of himself.
Well, there was always the Internet, where no question need go unanswered. At least I had been able to cover my bill for the month. I didn’t really care about the cell phone, but I’d go without water and gas before I’d give up my Internet. It helped me put food on the table, at the very least.
I’d go home and Google him, of course. He was bound to come up, even if he was, as he claimed, a “very private person.” He couldn’t make the whole damn world sign an NDA.
When I caught Heath’s eye, he turned from his discussion with Drake’s lawyer. The tight ball between my shoulder blades had migrated to my stomach, twisting and knotting as we made it to them. Drake and Heath shook hands again and we went our separate ways. I made sure he was out of sight before I balled up my fists and spoke to Heath through clenched teeth.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“Seriously, that’s the guy you picked? How in the hell did you think I would tolerate him?”
Heath shot me a puzzled look. “I actually thought he had a lot in common with you.”
“What, because he makes video games and I like to play them—too much, yes, I know—and review them on my blog?”
“Look at it this way, doll. If you don’t like your time together, you can give every product he’s made a shitty review.”
“Hilarious. Did you tell number two to go away yet or is he still an option?”
Heath’s mouth thinned. “Simmer down, now. Give it a day or two, okay? He said he’d e-mail you. Maybe he’ll be more polite.”
“He’s not paying to send me e-mails. I’m going to have to be alone with him all night…”
Heath shook his head and sent me a look that said, “I told you so.” I sighed and looked away.
“That’s the nature of the beast, Mia. It’s what you signed up for when you decided to go through with all this—‘Virgin Manifesto’ ideals or no. You claimed you were taking back the power that had been robbed from women for centuries. Find a way to take back the power from him. Don’t let him go all alpha wolf on you and start peeing on every tree. You’re stronger than that.”
“What about the other guy? Is he an alpha wolf, too?”
“Sweetie, they’re millionaires. They’re all alpha wolves. For what it’s worth, his behavior with you was very different from what I saw with him when we spoke both times. Maybe it’s just a façade he uses around women. It would explain why he’s participating in this—what did you call it again?—‘new paradigm’ in the first place.”
The knot in my stomach twisted again. “It’s a bad sign if he can’t behave himself around a woman. How do I know I’ll be safe? What if he’s into some sadomasochist shit?”
“Yeah, that’s all in the paperwork. No fetish. No bondage. Nothing unusual. You’re a virgin for chrissakes, it’s not like you would be into any of that. He knows. He was the one who wanted it put into the language of the agreement, kept saying it was important to protect you.”
I remembered what he said when we were alone. That it was his sole interest to ensure my safety, physically and legally. Was this some sort of sting? Was he an undercover cop in reality? Could Heath have been able to find that out?
We had arranged for this entire transaction to take place overseas, in countries where sex in exchange for money was legal. The web server had been stationed in Brazil, the auction run by proxy by Heath’s contact there. The actual act would take place in a legally friendly country.
Money would not actually change hands. Overseas bank accounts would effect the transfer. Heath’d had a gay banker friend set up an account in the Cayman Islands for me. It made me feel so clandestine and mysterious. Drake had one too (probably long before this transaction). And the money would soon be resting in a holding account before the transfer was made.
The only thing that was marginally illegal was our meeting on US soil to iron out the details of the deal. However, my pride at the neatness of this deal was beginning to fade in the face of Drake and his alpha wolf asshat personality. As Heath and I got into the car to return home, I shot him a veiled look but was quiet the remainder of the way.
I had a decision to mull over. I had to learn more about who Adam Drake really was. But further than that, the reality of my ideals had just slammed me in the face and I had to see if I had the
courage to continue with this plan. The way my nerves were tied up in knots, I doubted if I could.
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Copyright ©2017 by Brenna Aubrey
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20170811
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