Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“You picked a fine time to discover some integrity, Jax.”
He imagined she hoped to offend him. “If I may continue…?” He didn’t wait for permission before going on, this time with steel in his words. “This is a matter of integrity. I don’t care whether you think I have any or not. Without Brian’s belief in me, Jaxon Media wouldn’t be where it is today. I owe him a debt. If we go forward, you’ll be mine.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
“That’s why I’m offering you the last chance to tell me to go to hell. If you don’t, you might regret it.”
“Your conscience is annoying, Jax.”
All his life, Jax had avoided entanglements. He’d seen what had happened to his dad, after his mother had given up, abandoning her kid and the man who’d knocked her up and refused to marry her. His father had drunk too much, struggled to keep a job after the coal mine closed up, brought home too damn many women, some who hadn’t known he had a kid. Jax learned use a can opener when he was four, the stove when he was five. At nine, a teacher had recommended him for a summer camp, the first really good thing that had happened to him. He’d gotten out of the hellhole of a trailer where he lived, and he’d been served both breakfast and lunch every day. Best of all, he’d learned how to record videos. He’d attended some acting sessions and received voice coaching. Once the little light on a camera started blinking, he turned into a different person—someone he wanted to be. He thrived on the attention his videos garnered. It became his obsession, the thing that helped him hang on.
He began teaching others what he knew, running their sites, earning money and hoarding it beneath his shabby mattress so his dad didn’t find it. Jax was fifteen when his father discovered the cash. He’d called his son vile names before beating the shit out of him.
With a black eye and broken ribs, Jax had grabbed his camera and the forty bucks that his old man had missed. The screen door had slammed behind him. Doubled over, his father shouting curses from their rickety front porch, Jax limped away, and he hadn’t ever looked back.
Every day, he got in front of his first love, his savior—the camera—and recorded something. It was as essential to him as breathing. Willow was right. A lot of his words were fucking harsh. Too bad. So was life. He had no time for coddling. Grinding was the only way to beat the odds stacked against success. It meant pushing all the time, and all the time, he reminded himself and his subscribers of that.
Through the years that he’d fought through poverty and hunger, he never lost sight of his goal. Security. For that reason, he’d avoided entanglements.
Until now, he’d never been tempted.
Until Willow.
“What’s it to be?” he asked. If she agreed, he was stepping onto a forbidden path. And there’d be no turning back for either of them. “Frustration or satisfaction?”
“No matter what, I’m afraid I’m going to end up disliking you.”
No doubt. Right now, he had a lot of power. “It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”
For a long time, she studied him, contemplating.
“Are you at least a halfway decent Dom?”
“Am I as…?” His mouth twitched. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
“If you’re going to ruin my life, you’d better make it worth my while.”
“Princess, you have my word that you won’t go back to school unsatisfied.” He extended an inviting hand toward her.
With a sigh, she pressed her palm against his.
“So brave.” So foolish.
She slipped from the stool and very nearly into his arms.
Fuck if he didn’t want her there.
Together, they walked back to the main reception area. Aviana wasn’t near the podium, but Trinity was. He knew very little about the woman, and he suspected she liked it that way. Her hair was a sleek hot-pink bob that fell over her face, often shielding her completely. Her eyes were violet, a color that didn’t exist in nature. And always, she wore a tight-fitting catsuit, either vinyl or PVC.
She greeted them with a smile. “Something I can help you with, sir?”
“We’d like a private room.”
Trinity brushed back her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re consenting, ma’am?”
Had everyone heard about the minor altercation at the bar?
“Yes.” Willow nodded. “Thank you for asking, Trinity.”
Trinity grabbed a book from a shelf in the podium, then logged them in. “Room five.”
“My lucky number.”
“Please check back when you’re done.”
After a promise to do so, he led Willow toward the coat-check room to collect his toy bag.
While they waited, Willow turned toward him. “Five’s your lucky number?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I earned five bucks for first video I shot. Kid at school was skateboarding, he wanted to see himself.”