Chapter 4
Chapter Four
BONNIE
What the hell was I thinking coming here? I mean, did I really entertain the idea of being paid to provide men company? Because fuck was I going to provide the pleasure. I couldn’t be paid for that, ever. Could I? I guess the questions are redundant now anyway, seeing as I just told the boss I was out, and not just any boss, but my sister’s ex. I think I’m still in shock that he’s who he is. I’m guessing Kelly never knew what he really did, because she’d have been spouting off about it, for sure, never one to keep her mouth shut.
I feel like a goddamn fool as I march down the pavement, the taxi rank coming into view down the street. But being caught up in my own thoughts makes me unaware of anyone creeping up behind me, until they’re wrapping their arm around my waist and hauling my back to their chest. The breath whooshes from my lungs and I freeze momentarily before kicking into action and doing everything I can to get whoever is holding me to let go. But of course, as cliché as it is, I can’t fucking budge the mountain behind me, and even as I kick and try to flail about, no one can hear my shouts which are muffled by his hand sliding over my lips. And in less than thirty seconds, whoever he is has got me bundled down a side road and is then pinning me to a wall, their body behind mine, their chest pressed to my back, their hand no longer covering my mouth but holding my arms behind me.
“What the fuck?” I shout, even though I highly doubt anyone will come and investigate down here.
“You need to calm down,” he says, and my mind registers that I know the voice of the man behind me.
“Darius?” I say after a beat, and then his lips are beside my ear as he says, “When you’re calm, I’ll let go, but until then, we’ll stay as we are.”
Him pushed against me.
Him holding me captive, almost.
Him far too close.
Him, him, him.
My sister’s ex.
Talk about a fine fucking line. Or maybe the line isn’t actually fine at all, because where I come from, this situation would be a huge no-no. I mean, I don’t exactly understand what the situation is, but I know it’s wrong on all levels, even if I do dislike my sister.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I say, but my voice holds no real meaning, coming out all breathy and shit. I roll my eyes at the wall. God, why does he have to smell so damn delicious, and why does his hands on me suddenly feel so right?
“I have a proposition for you,” he says, his lips still by my ear, making me shiver. Bugger. I’m hardly hiding how my body reacts to him, and I’m sure he’ll know it too.
“What proposition?” I ask, because I’m bloody intrigued by the man who has taken it upon himself to follow me out of his swanky ‘meeting’ bar and pin me to this wall.
“Are you going to fly off the handle if I let you go?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly, and doing absolutely nothing to calm my raging pussy—the traitor that she is.
And despite my mind warning me against getting too involved with Darius, whatever he has to say, I find myself answering with, “I won’t fly off the handle.”
He seems to let go of me slowly, really slowly, and once he steps away, I kind of miss his touch immediately. And when my eyes connect with his… fuck. Those dark blue eyes suck me in, in a different way to how they ever did over a damn dinner table. I mean, I guess my sister being a barrier was the reason, but without her here, without them together, I can picture his lips on mine, his body covering mine, and his tongue doing wicked things to me.
Shut it down. Shut it down now!
“So,” I begin, standing tall. “What is this proposition you manhandled me down here to talk about?”
He chuckles deep in his chest, and bloody hell, it might just be my new favourite sound.
“Firstly, I realise this must be a lot to take in, seeing as I’ve kept my business as private as possible, and away from my social life. Secondly, you only get one pass to walk out of my club in a hissy fit—just one. And thirdly, my proposition is a simple one…”
“Which is?” I ask as he lets the seconds draw out between us, even as I feel my annoyance flair at him saying about the one pass thing—annoyance and heat, because fucking hell, this dominant side of Darius is quite something. I’ll question him about the other shit rolling around my brain in a minute, once he’s revealed the reason he accosted me.
“I have a client, a very trusted one who expects nothing but your company for one weekend. Friday night until Sunday afternoon. And they pay very generously.”
I’m momentarily frozen in place. That was not what I was expecting. I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting to start with, but it certainly wasn’t this. One weekend. One man. A trusted one, apparently. A paid weekend with a man I don’t know, and this is after I’ve stormed out of his bar.
“Hang on a second, this is a little much to process. I just found out you’re the boss of the whole escort thing, you just ended things with my sister, and now you want me to spend the weekend with a man who I’ve never met but who will pay me to spend time with him?” I waffle.
“Yes, to everything you just said, except it’s been a week since I ended things with your sister, just to clarify,” he replies, a smirk gracing the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, well, that makes it all better then,” I respond, my eyes rolling again, except this time, I see his eyes darken at the action, and damn if that doesn’t make me feel a little hotter for him.
“I usually don’t let people get away with talking to me like that, Bonnie,” he starts, and he takes a step towards me, my feet instinctively moving back until I hit the wall. “I’d usually reprimand them, show them who they’re dealing with, but for you…” His hands come either side of my head, resting against the wall as he leans down so he’s eye level with me. “I’ll make an exception.”
“And why would you do that?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Because I want you to say yes.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m a very persuasive man, Bonnie. What you saw of me over Sunday dinner was an act, a ploy to make you all believe I’m someone I’m not, but really, I will go after what I want until it says yes.”
“So you’re pushy,” I deduce, as he firmly holds my gaze, my eyes unable to look away.
“Not pushy, I just don’t give up. It’s how I became who I am today.”
“A pimp?” I fire back at him.
“If you took a little time to learn, then you’d see that I take extremely good care of the women and men that work for me.”
“Men too?” I ask, surprised by that.
“Yes, Bonnie. I’m not fucking close-minded.”
“Sorry,” I say quietly, feeling a little foolish that my brain doesn’t seem to be engaging before my mouth speaks.
“I would never put anyone in danger, ever. And if there is even a slight risk of it, then I nip it in the bud. The background checks I run are more in depth than the fucking FBI, so when I tell you I have a trustworthy client, then I mean they are trustworthy.”
“I need time to think,” I say, needing him away from me so I can try and make sense of what the hell is happening.
“Think…” he mutters, and then, out of nowhere, he’s taking hold of me and turning me around, so I’m back facing the wall.
“What the—” I begin, but am cut off by his chest being flush against my back, his fingers running along the side of my leg, at the hem of my very short skirt.
“You need time to think?” he questions, his fingers tracing the hem, until they’re making circles on the front of my thigh. “I told you I was a persuasive man, Bonnie,” he continues, as he kicks my feet apart a little more, so his fingers can run up the inside of my thigh… and I’m not stopping him because?
Because it feels fucking good. Naughty. Forbidden. Taboo. And I can’t find it in me to tell him to stop.
His fingers are so close to my pussy, so very fucking close that I hitch a breath, my body betraying me when my arse pushes against him. His answering chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest makes my skin tingle, and then his finger swipes up the middle of my knickers, my lace knickers that are already wet. Damn.
“You won’t be expected to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says, another delicious swipe of his finger making me rest my cheek against the wall, the coldness of the brick doing nothing to cool the flush heating my face.
“You hold all the cards, Bonnie,” he whispers, his lips right by my ear as his finger dips beneath my knickers and he finds my sweet spot, an embarrassing moan leaving me as I close my eyes. He’s giving me an out, telling me I don’t have to do anything against my will, and for the life of me I don’t have it in me to stop this as his finger lightly circles my clit and all thoughts of how wrong this is leaving my mind. I don’t care about anything other than him getting me off… against this wall… in this side street. His body encases me, his finger working at the perfect speed, him upping the tempo when my breathing changes, like he can read my mind for what I need. And when he pushes his finger inside me, his thumb taking over the circling of my clit, my legs tremble, my orgasm rocking through me.
Fuck.
“You have twenty-four hours to make up your mind,” he says, removing his hands from my knickers before he pushes off the wall and turns to walk away from me, leaving me propped against the wall in the aftermath of what just happened.
“Is that it? You give me small bits of information and an orgasm, and I’m supposed to decide by tomorrow night?” I manage to say to his back, my inner annoyance trying to come to life but being sedated by the fact that I just came on this man’s hand.
“Correct. I’ll see you soon, Bonnie.” And with that, he walks away, leaving me feeling like I’ve landed in a bizarre dream that makes no sense.