Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“I’m fine. I feel…” I drop down into his waiting embrace, my half-asleep arms dropping like stones, my body limp. “I feel so relaxed,” I finish on a yawn.
He holds me tight, studying my face with nothing short of amazement. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“It was for me, too,” I whisper, feeling kind of shy.
What have I discovered about myself tonight?
Do I like to roleplay? Am I…his perfect counterpoint? What is this called?
“I loved it,” I breathe, reaching up to play with his hair.
But he catches my wrist before I can touch him, going pale when he sees the red, angry ring left behind from the belt. “No. No, Vida.” Misery laces his tone. “Look what I did to you.”
I’m not sure where I get the boldness to say, “But you know I loved it.” I trace my lips along his collarbone. “You tasted the result.”
A look I can’t describe takes over his features.
It’s intense.
It’s…obsessive.
“You’re never getting away from me, Vida.” His hand circles my throat, big and unyielding. “Do you understand?”
Drowsy, I assume we’re still in the game…and I nod.
No idea that my fate has been sealed.
EIGHT
Tripp
I feel exultant.
Sexually charged.
On edge. Focused.
I feel like a fucking idiot.
I’m drawing a girl a picture like I’m in elementary school. Who the hell am I?
When I woke up this morning, alone in my room, my first thought was that this cannot continue. I need to wake up with Vida beside me in bed from now on. And because I was raised a billionaire, my second thought was…gifts. I need to give her gifts the likes of which she’s never seen. Diamonds. A Rolls-Royce. An island.
All of it.
Everything.
Then I remembered who she is. She rejected my offer to eat in a nice restaurant. I don’t have a hope in hell she’s going to accept diamonds. For the first time in my life, I’m at a disadvantage.
Money has always been the answer to every problem I ever had. But money is useless with Vida. And that might be one of the many things I admire about her, but it makes me nervous as shit, because what else do I have to give?
Thinking fast, I had colored pencils and an artist’s pad delivered to the room this morning after breakfast, and I’m drawing her the Milky Way. I didn’t even know what this galaxy looked like, but I’ve found a diagram online to work from. It’s not going to win any awards, that’s for sure. I can’t show up empty-handed the next time I see her, though.
What she gave me last night…
Lord.
It transcends anything of monetary value.
She trusted me. She allowed me to feel free of shame.
I can’t remember the last time I didn’t feel like a sick fuck deep down.
And Vida didn’t merely endure my fantasy—she had an orgasm, too.
She loved it, too.
My cock stirs beneath the desk, demanding I stroke it for the third time this morning, but I ignore the Vida-inspired lust and keep drawing. We didn’t make any plans when I dropped her off at home last night, but I’m determined to set our next date. She told me she works until dinnertime tonight, and I need to see her after that. I think I’ll go out of my mind if I can’t.
A reminder dings on my phone, and I snatch it up.
Yacht party 9pm.
“Dammit,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “I forgot.”
I invited all my friends out on my yacht tonight.
Can I cancel? Or should I invite Vida to the party?
My stomach churns with discomfort at the very notion. Not because I’m not proud of her. Not because I don’t want her there. But because I know my friends will eat her alive. They can’t help themselves. Their overindulged prick genes run deep. Even members of the same social class sometimes aren’t good enough for them. Vida will be a whole new entity. A member of the help—that’s how they’re going to see her. Not as a peer.
It could be a disaster.
But if I want to be with Vida—and as far as I’m concerned, that’s a done deal and she’s mine—then I’ll have to introduce her to my world sooner or later. I’ll speak to my friends in advance and make sure they know there will be consequences if she feels slighted. I won’t have her feelings hurt. Actually, the idea of her upset fills me with a kind of empty despair that permeates all my organs.
She’s already so special to me, I don’t know what to do with myself.
Color, I guess.
I work on my wannabe masterpiece for another hour before carefully rolling it up and securing it with a rubber band. Then I dress for the gym in black sweatpants and no shirt, slinging my headphones around my neck. Phone tucked into my pocket, I leave the room with my Milky Way illustration in my hand.