Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Just as I finish applying my mascara, the door opens and in walks Dutton. His gaze immediately finds me, and I pretend not to notice him as he stalks up beside me. “You give away all gifts like that?”
I try to ignore the fact that his cock is at my eye level as I look up at his face. Then he leans against the table, and I try my hardest to be unfazed by his proximity. “I assumed the gifts were for all the women in your employ. Turns out it was the wrong size for me anyway. It looks great on Samantha, though,” I say with a sweet smile as I turn back to the mirror. I carefully apply the last of my mascara and do my best not to squirm under the cold calculation of his gaze.
I will not crumble under this intimidation bullshit. However, if I were a wiser woman, I’d do as advised. Unfortunately, obedience isn’t a strength of mine.
“Was there something else I can help you with?” I stand and undo my dressing gown, revealing my green lingerie, which he clearly thinks is not good enough for him. “Boss?”
His jaw clenches so hard, I think he might blow a vein from how irritated he looks about things not going his way—such a spoiled man, used to getting everything he wants.
I daringly reach for his chin and tilt it up. “This is very unprofessional,” I remind him.
“My office. Now,” he growls, stepping out of reach as he turns and strides to his office. I make no move to follow him. When he notices, he looks back at me. “I said now.”
“Not happening. I mean, unless you’re firing me.” I arch an eyebrow at him.
“No, I’m going to fuck you into submission,” he states.
I laugh at that. Definitely not someone who can stand being told no. I’m just grateful all the other girls are out working on the main floor right now, so no one can hear him.
“Yeah, I’m going with a no. I don’t jump just because a spoiled rich kid tells me to. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make some money.” I grab my heels and slide them on my feet. I can feel his stare raking down my body, so I make sure to bend over just a little bit farther. It’s not like he hasn’t already seen what’s between my legs.
I’m intentionally teasing him because my boss needs to learn a lesson that although he thinks he’s in charge of me, he’s not.
I sigh at the purple mark on my inner thigh and reach for the makeup sponge and concealer to try and cover it.
“You know, it’s against policy to have marks,” he adds with his eyes on my leg.
“Yeah, some dickhead gave it to me, but you won’t have to worry about it happening again because it was a one-time thing. Although, he was good at giving head,” I say, as I tap a finger on my chin. “I have bills to pay, so I’m gonna get to work.” I saunter past him but am very aware the moment his footsteps sound behind me.
Does this fucker have nothing better to do than antagonize me?
Is he that unfamiliar with the word “no” that he gives chase because it’s like a fucking phenomenon to him?
I try my best to ignore him as I sweep a gaze around the room and approach my first customer, who is smiling as he stares at my legs. Before I can say anything, Dutton’s hot breath is over my shoulder as he says to the customer, “Touch her, and I’ll kill you.”
The man goes pale, and I can’t help but gape as I swing around to face Dutton. He’s staring down at me with those cold blue eyes. There’s no fucking soul in there, I swear, because the moment he wants complete obedience, he turns into this asshole.
My fingers curl into my palms as I try to ignore him and approach the next man, but no words are exchanged because he sees my looming shadow. Is this fucker going to follow me around to make sure I can’t make any money all night just to make a point that he has the power to do so? For what? Disobeying him?
“You’re being a petty fuck,” I grit out over my shoulder. He doesn’t reply; he just continues following me. When I’m at my breaking point—it only takes a few minutes to get there—I spot his friends from the other night, the twins, who seem to be enjoying the show. Well, mostly the muscular twin, as he stares in awe as Samantha dances.
So I go to step in their direction. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Dutton growls.
I smile, flicking my hair over my shoulder as I now have a pep in my step. “And has you telling me what to do worked out for you so far?” I whisper under my breath.