Chapter 5
Chapter Five
BONNIE
Laying on the sofa at Sadie’s, I replay what happened with Darius over in my head, again and again and again. In fact, I’ve not really been able to think about much else. The way he turned from a guy who used to date my sister into someone that exudes power, wealth and rocks a suit better than any man I’ve ever seen is messing with my mind, not to mention that he gave me the most intense and exciting orgasm I’ve ever had. And after replaying the whole bizarre scenario, I have deduced that Kelly really did have no idea what Darius did for a living, and I’m pretty sure she never saw past his handsome face and hunky bod, because she’d have eaten that shit up like breakfast. She’d have been flaunting his wealth and been pushing him to put a ring on it, because that’s who she is. Materialistic. Always has been, and I doubt she’ll ever change. Do I feel bad for thinking these things of my sister? Not at all. Not when it is the God’s honest truth. We’ll never be close, I’m nothing like her and my mother, and I wouldn’t want to be either. I have no desire to build my life around fancy things that mean nothing. I want to build a life where shit matters, and I don’t mean the price tag of a car or what a surgeon can do to keep my face young. I mean experiencing true love, being wanted, being valued, something my family have never given me.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and my eyes fly to the clock on the wall.
No, it can’t be him.
He wouldn’t know that I was here.
He has no idea about my life.
But those words… “Twenty-four hours…”
I shake my head and laugh at myself, feeling utterly ridiculous for believing Darius would show up here, like some kind of stalker man looking to seal the deal. Okay, stalker might be a bit overdramatic, but it’s the first comparison that comes to mind. And then I laugh again when I see that Sadie’s keys are hanging by the front door, so it will be her coming home from wherever she’s been. I didn’t want to ask where she was going after I made a tit of myself last night in the bar, and she didn’t divulge much. I know she’s a little pissed at me for causing a scene in front of her boss, but we’ll talk in the next day or two, hash it out, and then we’ll crack open a bottle of wine and toast to how funny we are… once we’re pissed, of course.
“Coming,” I shout as I get up and walk to the door, opening it with a smile on my face, one that is quickly wiped off when I see that it isn’t Sadie stood there, but it is, in fact, Darius. Fuck my life. Could this be more of a cliché moment? Me thinking it was him, only to tell myself how silly I was being, for it then to actually be him. Fucking ridiculous. You couldn’t write this shit.
“Good evening, Bonnie,” he rumbles, his deep voice already fucking rolling over me and making me feel a little light-headed. Jesus Christ, it can get more cliché than I originally thought. “Are you going to invite me in?” he asks, to which I quickly reply, “Uh, no.”
“Quite the hostess, I see,” he says with a chuckle. Smug, delicious bastard making my pussy wake up and throw a damn pre-party at the thought of him coming in here and having his wicked way with me. I need to stop with these thoughts. If my sister were to find out I was fantasising about her ex, she would throw the biggest bitch fit of all time, and with good reason, obviously. Because even as we dislike each other, there is still a code to follow… a code I’ve already broken… fuck.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bonnie, so you might as well let me in so we can move this along,” he tells me, seeming unfazed by my abrupt greeting.
I cross my arms over my chest, one eyebrow hooking up at his cockiness, but then I see his eyes shift down briefly, where my arms are pushing my boobs up, giving him a good eyeful of my cleavage poking out of my vest top. Shit. I quickly drop my arms and put them on my hips instead, and I don’t miss the smirk that graces his full lips.
We seem to be in some kind of stare-off, until I finally relent and say, “Come in,” sarcasm dripping from my voice as I dramatically wave my arm through the air. He walks in like he owns the place, and to be fair, he totally could. I can’t stop my eyes from checking out his arse as he passes by me. Oof. I quickly shut the door and turn to face him, his eyes sparkling with something like triumph.
“So, what can I do for you?” I ask, going to cross my arms over my chest again and then remembering how he looked at me before and quickly dropping them back to my sides.
“I gave you twenty-four hours, and now I’m here for your answer,” he says, getting straight down to business.
“Look, I’m flattered that you seem to think I’d be a good fit for whatever client you have waiting in the wings, but I’m not the girl you’re looking for, and I thought that had been made perfectly clear.” If he’s not beating around the bush, then neither am I.
“And I told you that I go after what I want, and what I want is you,” he says, not missing a fucking beat.
“I can’t be an escort, Darius, and it would be wrong, what with you being my sister’s ex and all.”
“And if I wasn’t?” he questions, catching me off guard. “Hmmm. That’s what I thought.” No need for me to answer, because my silence tells him that I would consider this if Kelly weren’t in the mix—not that she is anymore, but still, it’s weird.
“Not to mention the fact that I would be paid to spend time with someone I don’t even know,” I say, trying to deflect from my sister, because it feels icky in a way.
“I get it, this life isn’t for everyone, but usually the tune of fifty thousand pounds changes minds pretty quickly,” he says flippantly, as if he hasn’t just dropped a fat chunk of change into the mix.
“Pardon me?” I must have misheard him.
“Actually, that’s just a starting point, there is no limit to how much you can earn from allowing someone else to have the pleasure of your company.”
“A starting point?” He’s got to be fucking joking with me? Sadie would have said if it was that much money, surely?
“Yes. Seeing as my client wanted two nights with you, it would be fifty thousand per night, plus expenses paid.”
Mother of fuck.
“Okay, where’s the hidden camera? Who’s put you up to this?” I question, running my eyes over his body to look for some kind of contraption that could be a damn camera. I don’t find one, and all I find is amusement when my eyes move back to his.
“No one puts me up to anything. This is the real deal, Bonnie,” he confirms, and why the hell do I believe him? Why do I trust what he is telling me? I don’t even want to try and figure out the answer to those questions right now.
“And that real deal includes sex and God knows what else,” I say, my mind quickly coming up with a million different ways I could be hogtied with fuck knows what inserted into me. No, no, I don’t think so.
“No sex, Bonnie, that’s just for your time.”
“Stop it.”
“I would if it was a lie, but it isn’t. You have my word.” And there he goes again, making me believe his damn word. “So, one hundred thousand for two nights and two days. What’s it going to be, Bonnie?”