Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“They said that technically, the slow times when we don't have any customers counted as part of our breaks, so they weren’t guaranteed to give us a full thirty minutes.”
Clenching my jaw, I reached for the wine glass. “You won't be required to do anything immediately, Daisy. You can slow down and enjoy yourself.”
As she straightened, she gave me a sheepish smile. “Right. Of course. Suzie made such a wonderful dinner. It definitely deserves to be savored.”
She definitely deserved to be savored.
“Suzie seems interesting,” Daisy continued. “How long has she been your chef?”
“A few years now,” I said with a shrug. “But I've known her for about twenty years.”
“Oh. So she knows you fairly well, huh?”
There was a tone of caution in her voice, and I narrowed my eyes and looked at her suspiciously. “Why do you ask me that?”
“Just trying to make conversation.”
I could tell that she was lying, and wanted to call her out on it, but she had already changed the subject. Daisy talked all through dinner. About how nice the penthouse and the clothes I’d gotten her were. About how sorry she was about the decanter. About her old job and coworkers. Even about some pet she had for twenty days as a kid until her father found out. She talked about anything and everything, her nerves showing with each word spoken too quickly.
I ate slowly and listened patiently. Daisy constantly looked at the clock and my plate as if she knew what would happen when it was empty. When I dropped my fork onto my dish, she jumped up like she'd been shot.
“I'll go see if there's anything for dessert,” she said hastily and tried to scurry past me.
Reaching out, I snagged her elbow. “There won't be anything for dessert,” I said in a low voice. “I don't have much of a sweet tooth, and I have a different idea of how I want to end my meal.”
“Another bottle of wine?” she asked hesitantly.
“Clean the dishes, Daisy, and then return to me.”
“Mr. Langston,” she pleaded. “Maybe I could have another night.”
“Don't argue. Just do as I say. Now, Daisy.” I tightened my grip just a little, and she immediately dropped her gaze. Mutely, she nodded and took my dirty plate.
Leaning back, I smiled. I'd been fantasizing about this moment all day, and now I was minutes away from getting a good hard look at what I'd paid for.
Chapter Nine
Daisy
I took my time washing and drying the dishes. There was a dishwasher right next to the sink, but I ignored it, cleaning by hand to delay the inevitable. When I finished with that, I took off my slippers and unwrapped my foot. It had stopped bleeding, but it still twinged when I walked on it. Washing the wound, I gripped the counter and took a deep breath.
What could I do to get Mr. Langston to wait just one more night?
“Daisy,” Mr. Langston said in a loud and calm voice. “Now that you've finished unnecessarily hand washing the plates, please come back.”
I took a deep breath. It was time. Nodding my head, I prepared myself and walked slowly back into the kitchen. He'd pushed his chair back and crossed his legs as he casually sipped wine. Despite my misgivings, he looked sexy as well with his shirt unbuttoned at the throat and his sleeves rolled up. Those blue eyes pierced me, but I could still hear Suzie's words echoing in my head.
I'd be little more than a shell if I let him get to me.
“Foot's better, I see,” he noted. “Up on the table.”
Surprised, I frowned. “I'm sorry. What?”
“Stand on the table. Don't worry. It'll hold your weight. You'll find that all the furniture in my home is constructed to be unusually strong.”
“Why?” I stammered.
“I like to know that they'll hold the weight of two,” he replied with a sly smile. “Now up on the table. Stand please.”
Flushing, I slowly climbed up on the chair and stood on the table. Under his heated gaze, I knew he was about to put me on display.
“Very good,” he murmured. “You're aware that I'm paying for you. As a matter of fact, I'm paying a good deal more than ten grand. I think it's time that you showed me exactly what I've bought.”
“Rented,” I said quickly. “Technically, you're renting me.”
His expression froze, and I worried that I'd said something wrong. Before he could shout at me again like he did this morning, I quickly apologized.
“Undress,” he said in a steely voice. “But slowly. I want to enjoy this. I've been thinking about it all day. Imagining you naked on all the surfaces of my office. In all positions.”
My whole body burned with humiliation. We'd just had a lovely dinner, and now he was reminding me of exactly what I was.
His sex toy.