Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Without taking his eyes off me, he reaches back and gets his wallet out. He holds it up, commanding, “Tell me what this is.”
My hands go back and find purchase on the door, my thighs shaking again. Even if I wanted to stop them, tighten my muscles, I couldn’t, the shakes are so violent. And right now, I don’t even care. Because this is it, isn’t it? This is where he becomes a giant asshole to me and reduces this to something cheap. Because that’s just who he is. But I remind myself that it’s okay. Once his asshole phase passes, I’m going to bring him over to the good side. The side where people talk like adults and big feelings are okay.
I glance over to the wallet. “Your wallet.”
“And what do you think is in my wallet?”
I blush. Hard. And rake my nails down the door, my heart thudding and thudding in my chest. “M-money.”
He nails me with his gaze. “Yeah, money. More specifically, this.” He flips it open and, still holding my gaze, fishes out a wad of folded bills. And he continues, “This is more than what I gave your stripper friend the other night.”
My eyes pop wide at the thick bundle. “But that’s—”
“Double.”
“What?”
He leans to the side and places it on the table. “This should cover everything.”
“What’s everything?”
“All the damage I do tonight.”
My belly clenches. “Shepard, I think—”
“Which means if I tell you to do something you don’t wanna do, you take a look at this.” He taps his finger on the table, pointing to the money. “Every time you wanna say no to me, you think about how much money you’ll be making tonight. Easy money. Easier than serving drinks and getting fucking assaulted by the scum of this town.” He pauses to grit his teeth, as if he still isn’t over what happened out there. “Easier than all the girls out there who have to spread their legs for every asshole who passes through this hellhole and shows them the money. Every time you don’t wanna let me do something to you, you think about how you only have to get on your back for one of those assholes and then you be a good girl for me and let me do it anyway.”
I already know I won’t be doing that. I already know the only thing that can ever make me do anything that I don’t want to do is him. So I don’t need to look at his money, only him. In all his heartbreaking, toxic glory.
Shame burns every inch of my skin as I say, “Just so you know, you’re being a toxic asshole again.”
An emotion flickers across his face that so resembles regret that I’m stunned by it. That I think I’m seeing it wrong, but it goes away so quickly that I can’t confirm whether or not it was there in the first place. Then, features tightening, he says, “Yeah, and somehow, you’re still the Little Strawberry who can cut through my poison. Perfect for me.”
My eyes sting and emotions form a lump in my throat. I didn’t know how hard it would be, doing this. I thought I could handle it. But again, it’s okay. I’ll get my turn. Until then, I’ll be strong. I’ll be whoever or whatever he wants to be. Then I will be his Little Strawberry who will cut through the poison in his veins.
He takes a seat at the booth then. Like all the nights before, he sits on the edge, his back up and his shoulders straight. His eyes watching and staring and noticing my every move. Then, with a hardened jaw, he commands, “Take your clothes off.”
Chapter Thirteen
I’ve never been naked before anyone.
And while I knew tonight I would have to be, I never imagined it would be here. In a strip club. I thought he’d take me back to his place, his childhood home where he’s staying for now. And honestly, I was looking forward to it. That was where I saw him for the first time and to do this—take this huge step when I never ever thought we’d be here—felt poetic.
But as I said, I’ll take it.
So I keep my eyes on him, the only thing I care about, and reach up to take my halo off. Then I reach down for the zipper of my skirt. Once it’s dropped to the floor, I grab hold of the hem of my top and he slides even more to the edge, his stare dropping to my fingers, growing thicker. More focused and intense. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to do. It’s so easy to slide my top up and over my heaving chest. So easy to keep going until it’s off and joining the skirt I left in a heap on the floor.