Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
Brynn
I’m much calmer at dinner than I expected I’d be. I got my homework done, and then I took what I needed. I’m centered now that I’ve spent an hour kneeling in front of Mr. Bennett.
He went too far this morning when he told me not to submit. I know he’s panicking about what happened last night. He probably thinks I’m going to run and leave him high and dry, but I’m not. I can’t . He’s under my skin.
I’m going to get hurt, of course. There’s no way around it. It’s like a barreling freight train. It’s speeding toward me, but I’m helpless to stop it. Better to have loved and lost is my new motto. And it’s going to include sex.
My new mission is to convince Mr. Bennett to have sex with me. He doesn’t understand that I don’t care about my stupid virginity. I didn’t save myself for some particular reason. It’s not like I was waiting for “the one.” I’ve simply never met anyone I wanted to get naked with .
I’m not going anywhere. I’m with him until he tires of me. And then I’m probably stupid enough to stay until he actually kicks me out. I’m addicted to what he offers me. I’m addicted to submitting to him.
I’m addicted to him.
I don’t think I could ever have this same dynamic with another man. It’s him. It’s not BDSM in general I’ve grown fond of. It’s Asher Bennett.
Yes, I need to be more assertive and set new boundaries, but I also need to submit. I crave it like a drug.
I’m not half bad at this Pretty Woman thing, either. I may not have come from money, but I have manners and common sense. I can sit like a lady, eat with the right fork, and chew with my mouth closed.
The business associates Mr. Bennett is meeting with are kind and courteous to me. William Richmond and his son, whose name is also William, though he goes by Bill, ask me about my college classes and interests. I answer politely. Mostly, I try not to intrude on their conversation, though I’m surprised they never mention business during dinner. They talk about their families and every topic known to mankind. But not business.
At some point, I decide it’s probably an unspoken code. Eat first, talk shop after.
Drinks are served, and I accept a glass of white wine even though I don’t really care for it. I’m not sure if I’ll ever develop a taste for wine. I sip it anyway. I try not to drink much water either because I want to avoid needing to use the bathroom. After last night, I’m paranoid.
I feel like my job is to make it painfully obvious to not only these men but anyone else in the restaurant—from patrons to staff—that my relationship with Asher is rock solid and we are very much in love.
It’s not hard to send him frequent smoldering glances. It’s not hard to thread my fingers with his every time he touches my hand. It’s not hard to lean in and kiss him when he gives me a tug.
To everyone watching, we’re a couple. That’s my job.
Sure, a part of me is stressing over the lie. I feel like I’m not being honest with Asher. My lie is that I’m not lying. I’m not acting. I’m not pretending. I’m falling in love with him.
If I told him, he would probably freak out and back off. I’ll have to, eventually, but I want to savor some time with him first.
After dinner is over, the men finally discuss business. Watching Mr. Bennett work his magic is fascinating. No wonder he’s so wealthy. He could talk a suicidal man off a ledge without raising his voice and then convince him to invest in his company.
When they’re done, we move to the bar, seemingly to celebrate their future collaboration. Asher orders me a drink. When he hands it to me, he leans in to tell me it’s lemon-lime soda with a wedge of lime. It’s so thoughtful. Now, I look like I’m having a drink with everyone else, even though mine is missing the presumed vodka or gin.
I sip it slowly while we stand at a high-top table.
Eventually, it’s Asher who has to excuse himself to use the restroom.
I assure him I’m fine. Our polite guests also reassure him they won’t let anything happen to me. They’re jovial and light-hearted about it, but I get the feeling they know it’s a problem.
They flank me and become the perfect bodyguards. The older Mr. Richmond smiles. “I bet you deal with a lot of harassment dating Asher Bennett. ”
“Yes, sir.”
He waves a hand dismissively through the air. “Please, call me William.”
He makes me feel safe. “Thank you.”
“I’ve seen the tabloids,” his son says on my other side. He winces. “People are vicious. You’re obviously not the person they make you out to be.”
I chuckle. “A gold-digging slut?”
Bill winces again.
William shakes his head. “Assholes. They need something better to do with their time.”
As if we conjured said assholes, a camera flashes in my face, blinding me.
Bill charges after the man with the camera, nearly tackling him to yank the camera out of his hand.
I’m so stunned I can’t move. It’s like the next two minutes happen in slow motion as Bill informs the man that he will smash the camera on the ground if he doesn’t immediately delete the photo.
He manages to scare the asshole enough to convince him that deletion is in his best interest. The man flees the restaurant as Bill straightens his tie.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, still shocked. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Bill shrugs. “Someone has to put these people in their place. Idiots. Don’t they know they’re fucking with other people’s lives? It’s madness how it’s often the women they target. Why not Dad or me or even Asher? Why target you?”
There is no answer.
Asher returns, having missed the entire thing, but he looks nervous. He’s also straightening his tie and looking over his shoulder as if he had his own confrontation .
I’m wondering why it’s worth it to ever leave the house. No wonder so many famous people tend to stay out of sight. It’s exhausting.
Asher sets his hand on my arm and slides it up to my shoulder. “We should probably go. It’s getting late.”
William nods. “I was just thinking the same thing. We have an early flight. We’ll be in touch at the beginning of the week to finalize things.”
Asher nods. “Yes. We’ll talk Monday or Tuesday.” He shakes hands with both men and sends a text to Charles before guiding me toward the exit. He stays closer than ever as if protecting me from an invisible threat. I’m wondering if something really did happen while he was in the restroom.
When we’re seated in the car, I breathe easier and tell him about the incident with the camera and how much I appreciate the help from William and Bill.
Asher is shocked as he listens to me, but he keeps fidgeting and rubbing his hands on his thighs. He’s making me nervous.
I pull my phone out of my purse, wondering for the tenth time if I should contact my dad. It’s too late now. It’s after midnight on the East Coast.
A text comes in, though, and I glance down to see it’s from Tracy, my ex-coworker at The Grind.
What the fuck, girl? Engaged? How did that happen? You just started dating the man like a week ago.
I stop breathing. What is she talking about?
Another text comes in from her. It’s a screenshot from a tabloid. And then another and another. Three screenshots . I have to widen them so I can read the headline.
Billionaire Bachelor Asher Bennett Off the Market. Engaged to Unknown College Student Brynn Flores.
I feel like I’m going to faint. Why would anyone print that? I mean, I understand they’re all liars and will do anything for a buck, but that’s going too far.
The pictures are from last night. I’m surprised it took the vultures so long to concoct this lie. I’m shaking as Asher suddenly snatches my phone from my hand, looks at the screen, and groans.
He rolls his head back and stares at the ceiling. “I’m so sorry, Brynn.”
I frown. “Why are you sorry? You’re not the one who printed this shit. I have to get used to it. I told you I would. It’s shocking how low they will stoop, but like I said, I’m thick-skinned.”
He lowers his gaze to me and takes a deep breath. “I did this.”
I stare at him. My mouth is dry. I’m confused. I say nothing for long seconds while my heart beats in my ears. “You did what?” I murmur.
“I told a reporter we were engaged.” He groans and runs his hands through his hair. “I didn’t realize she was a reporter. I thought she was just some rabid fan who wanted to convince me I would be better off with her.”
I blink. “Who? When?”
He chuckles sardonically. “They’re fast. That’s for sure. It was when I was on my way to the restroom. She cornered me in the hallway. I don’t like to get rough with women, so I try not to touch them. I stood still, waiting for her to finish her little speech about how I could do better and if I wanted to find out what a real woman could do with her…” He shakes his head as if realizing it wasn’t necessary to give me every damn detail. “Never mind. The point is, I couldn’t get rid of her, so I told her to give it up. I was off the market for good. I told her we were getting married.”
I gasp, my eyes wide. I’m too stunned to do anything but stare at him. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. No way.
Charles pulls into his designated spot in the parking garage, and I’m glad because I’m going to suffocate in this SUV. I need air. I grab my purse, shove the door open, jump down, and run in my stupid heels until I get to the elevator. I know the code, so I quickly type it in.
I’m so fast that I’m in the elevator and it’s closing before either Charles or Asher catch up.
“Brynn, wait!” Asher shouts.
But it’s too late; the doors close, leaving me alone. I’m panting. I can’t catch my breath as I ride the elevator to the top floor. When it opens, I run through the penthouse to my room. I spin around for a moment before finding my wits. I need to get out of here. I don’t know where I will go. Anywhere but here. I have enough money to get a hotel room for the night. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out something else. I’m not sleeping in this penthouse.
Furious, I drag my suitcases out of the closet—the ones I packed and brought here unnecessarily because I’ve never opened them except to give my vibrators to Mr. Bennett.
Yes, Mr. Bennett . The asshole who told a reporter we’re engaged.
A minute behind me, Mr. Bennett rushes into the room. “Brynn… Please, baby. What are you doing? Talk to me. ”
I turn toward him and give him my best glare. “I can’t believe you. Why would you do that?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted her to stop hounding me.”
“Engaged!” I shout. “Asher, this isn’t even real. Did you forget? You paid me to be your arm candy.” I’m yelling. “You paid me two hundred thousand dollars, paid my tuition, bought me a new wardrobe, and had me groomed to be your fake girlfriend. Fake .”
He takes a step back, looking shell-shocked.
I wave a hand between us. “This isn’t real. I’m just some girl who needed money and was desperate enough to get lured into your web. I’m a fool. I feel so stupid.”
I start pacing back and forth on the other side of the bed. I stop and bounce on one foot to take my heels off, one at a time. Barefoot, I keep pacing.
“Brynn… It’s not like that.”
I fist my hands and scream, “Not like what ? Not like I moved into your house, became your submissive, and fell hard for you like the idiot I am? Not like I gave up my freedom to pretend to be with you, and now I probably can’t go back to school on Monday and my life is ruined? Not like I told myself it would be okay because having a fake piece of you was so fucking wonderful that I’d rather have a year living a lie with you than never having you at all? Not like I thought I could give you my virginity because it would be worth it just to know what it felt like even though, in the end, you were always going to crush me like a bug. What is it not like, Asher Bennett? Tell me.”
He looks like I’ve slapped him, but he doesn’t say a word.
I stomp into the bathroom and manage to unzip my dress, even though it’s awkward getting the zipper down my back without help. I don’t even care that I’m naked when I step out of the black silk. I toss it on the counter, stomp back into my room, and aim for my suitcase. I yank it open and pull out a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. I don’t have time to hunt for panties and a bra. I just want to be covered with my own clothes and get the hell out of here. I can’t think clearly.
As I tug the T-shirt over my head, Asher steps closer. “Brynn, stop. Let’s talk about this, baby.”
I shoot him another glare. “I’ve said everything I have to say. I’ve made a fool of myself. I’m embarrassed and humiliated. Let me go. I’ll transfer the money back to you on Monday morning. I don’t want it. I’ll move to another city, get a job, pull myself back together, and finish my degree. I’m done being a fool.”
He rounds behind me, grabs me around the waist, and pulls my back against his front. He kisses my neck.
I’m confused and so angry. “Stop it.” I shove at him.
He kisses me again. His voice is calm when he says, “It’s not fake, baby. Nothing is a lie. I’m in love with you.”
I struggle against him, but he holds me close. “What are you talking about? Let me go.”
“Never. Not until I die. You’re mine. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I should have. I thought about it a dozen times. I was too chicken. I was afraid I would ruin everything and lose you if I told you how I really felt.”
I’m panting and still pushing at his arms. What is he saying?
“I love you, Brynn Flores. I love you so much it hurts. I’ve never said that to a woman before. I love you.” He kisses my neck again. It’s maddening .
“I want to marry you. I want to move you into my bed and never let you go. I want to renegotiate our agreement. I want to come up with a balance of dominance and submission we can both live with. I want to drag you down to the courthouse and make our relationship permanent, so you’ll believe me and know I’m not lying.”
I’m breathing heavily as I give up the fight and go limp in his arms. Is he serious?
“I should have told you. I shouldn’t have told that damn reporter first. It was stupid. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. You’re killing me here. Stabbing me through the heart. Don’t leave. Stay. Talk to me. Please, baby.”
I’m out of fight as he turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. He keeps one arm around my middle as if I might run for the door if he gives me an inch. His other hand comes to my face. He strokes my wild hair from my face and kisses me.
I don’t kiss him back at first. I can’t get any messages to my lips.
He doesn’t give up, though. He kisses my cheek and nibbles a path to my ear. “I heard every word you said. Now I know that you love me, too. We were not communicating because we were afraid to lose each other.”
“We’ve known each other a week.” It’s the first thing I can think of to combat the madness.
“Really? It seems like ten years. I don’t remember what it was like without you. My penthouse was too quiet. Ever since you moved in, I’ve felt lonely when I’m not with you. I hate going to bed at night. I can’t sleep because you’re in another room, so close and yet so far. I hate when I’m at work and you’re at school. I don’t feel whole until you come home and kneel between my legs. I’m so desperate to have you that I made a poor choice. Maybe, on some subconscious level, I told that woman we were engaged on purpose to force the issue.”
He strokes my hair. I love it when he runs his fingers through my hair. “You’re not playing fair,” I mutter.
He smiles. “I’ll never play fair with you. I will always play to win. I want your heart. I want your body. I want your submission. Say you’ll give it all to me. Tell me you’ll stay forever.”
I search his eyes. He’s serious. “You love me?”
“Every inch of you. Love is too mild a word.”
I narrow my gaze. “You’re not taking me to the courthouse. And telling a reporter in a bar that we’re engaged does not make us engaged.”
He chuckles. “Got it. I can do better. I will do better. Maybe there will be rose petals and a diamond next time.”
I draw in a deep breath. I can’t believe this is happening. Am I really going to give him a chance with my heart? “You’re going to hurt me.”
He nods. “Sometimes, I will because I’m a dude and make mistakes. Sometimes, I’ll say or do the wrong things. But I will always apologize, and I will never let you go to bed angry. You have my word.”
“What about alone? Will you let me go to bed alone?” I’m challenging him now.
“Never again. From now on, you will be in my bed every night. In my arms. I’ll be wrapped so tightly around you that you’ll struggle to breathe.”
I believe him. His eyes don’t lie. There are still problems. “I want to finish school.”
“And you will. I promise.”
I narrow my eyes. “How am I going to do that? By Monday morning, the vultures are going to descend. ”
“Charles will stick to you like glue. No one will dare bother you.”
I can’t picture attending classes with a bodyguard, but I can’t imagine there’s another answer. I wiggle my left hand between us. “How am I going to explain this naked finger after you told the entire world we’re engaged?”
He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “We’ll buy a ring tomorrow morning.”
I stare at him. He’s for real. Do I want a ring? It’s too soon…isn’t it?
He eases his grip, bends his knees, and sweeps me off my feet, cradling me in his arms.
I hold on to his neck as he carries me from the room and into the master suite. He kicks the door closed and reaches back to lock it.