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As he scanned my assessments, I studied his face. At times, he raised his brows. What did that mean? Wait, was that an unconscious nod? Damn, he read fast. Once, that left corner of his lips tilted for an instant.

Now that I'd been given the chance to impress him, I wanted to succeed! He'd liked my brain--wanted to take advantage of it. Would he still?

He raised his face and turned that penetrating gaze to me. "We matched on all but one," he said, impressed.

Even as my toes curled with pleasure, I fake-examined my nails. "Oh, did my baby boy get one wrong?"

His eyes grew lively in that way I loved. "You didn't ask me questions; you simply assessed proposals. Did you learn from all those econ books you read?"

My finance minor had actually been of more help today. "I learned a lot from those books." Bob and weave.

"But why did you recommend moving forward on the fifth proposal?" A block of run-down apartment complexes. "These aren't class A, B, or even C. I'd deem them class S for 'shithole.' That gulag you wanted to visit probably has more amenities."

Bingo. My bus route to one of my cleaning gigs passed those apartments, and they reminded me of my own.

"The numbers are marginal at best," he said. "Tell me your reasoning."

The Shadwell Theory. "Gross mismanagement." Emphasis on ooh, gross. "The managers are probably shaking down the tenants each month and under-reporting the rents collected. If you got even a semi-honest crew in there, you could lower rents, increase repairs and maintenance, and you'd still make more. Tenants are happy, owners are happy."

"Lower rents." He was looking at me in that keen way of his.

"It's just an idea." I bit my lip. "The property is in foreclosure. Banks like to clear their books of bad debts by year's end, so if you offered cash this week, you could steal it. Or so I've heard. There are tax implications as well--oh, wait, la mafia Rusa probably doesn't worry about taxes much."

His keen expression deepened.

You're talking too much, Cat. Muzzle it. To distract him, I said, "Can I see your takes?"

He handed over his own computer.

I read his notes and determinations, and nearly orgasmed at how his brain worked. Boundaries! "Not bad for a rookie."

"Glad you approve."

I was about to suggest we take "un cafecito," a coffee break for caffeine and sex--not necessarily in that order--when he stood and stretched.

As he headed toward the kitchen, he tossed over his shoulder, "You're going to the wedding with me."

"Que???"

CHAPTER 25

Heart in my throat, I followed him.

He was at the leftovers again. "Are we out of the almond candies? Who ate all of them?" He glanced up from the fridge with a dark look. "Vasili, you prick." He turned to me. "It's your fault you fed him. Now he'll be like a stray dog coming around for our handouts."

"Sevastyan, let's be reasonable. Of course I can't go to the wedding." Did he expect me to wait in the hotel room while he went to the ceremony and festivities?

"You can, and you will." He took out the prawns, licking pink sauce off his thumb. "Now that my Cat's out of the bag, there's no reason for you not to be my date."

Date? Excitement filled me. Then realities weighed in. "It's not just a wedding. It's your brother's. If anyone found out what I am"--a prostitutka--"they'd consider it a slight."

And how would I fare at a wedding--when the last one I'd been to was my own doomed courthouse ceremony?

He pulled out two plates, setting them down. "What you are? You're a beautiful, intelligent young woman."

Was he finally looking past my being an escort?

As soon as the thought occurred, he said, "I expect a heated negotiation." He grabbed me by the waist and plopped me onto the counter. "What will it take? Cash and jewels? You'll need clothes to wear." He wedged his hips between my thighs.

Confusion. "What are we doing here, Ruso? Why this turnaround? I'm your quote-unquote prisoner, remember?"

"You can still be my quote-unquote prisoner in Nebraska."

"You hate me except for when we have sex." "When we read proposals, I like you okay. When you sing and cook, I like you."

"You're teasing me?" The whole reason I'd been able to handle this time with him was because it had an expiration date! All I'd had to do was guard my heart for a little while longer, and I'd be free. I could avoid the inevitable crash. Now he was talking about extending my time--and deepening things between us.

He really wanted to introduce me to his family?

No, that didn't matter! He might feel a connection to me, and I might even be unique to him. But his interest would fade. At heart, the hobbyist was a player, could have any woman in the world. Soon enough, he'd get back out there.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not going. When you leave, so do I. It was always our unspoken agreement."

He gave a laugh. "Was it?"

"On the twenty-eighth, I am going home. You are going north. That's my final say in this."

"Hmm. I can be very persuasive, Katya."

"There is absolutely nothing you can say or do that will change my mind on this."

The look in his eyes said challenge offered, challenge fucking accepted.

"What the hell is this, Sevastyan?"

"Shouldn't it be obvious, dushen'ka?" The bastard was tying me up in his bed.

After we'd eaten, he'd told me, "You're moving to the master bedroom tonight."

"Why?"

"That's what I want."

We had talked about it before, so I hadn't been suspicious. I should have been suspicious. Because half an hour later, I lay naked with my arms secured over my head.

He'd started with kissing, stripping me and getting me mindless. By the time he'd drawn back and I'd blinked open my eyes, my right wrist had been encircled by a black leather cuff with shining buckles and a metal ring. I'd slapped at him with my other hand, but he'd chuckled at my attempts, easily buckling the thing on my wrist. Then he clipped the ring on the cuff to a strap attached to the headboard. With even more ease, he'd forced my left arm over my head.

He'd wanted me in this room because he'd prepared the bed for bondage. The master's room. I'd never seen it coming.

Now he was going for one of my ankles. Two more straps snaked out from the footboard.

I kicked at him and twisted. "I didn't agree to this! Why do this?"

He snatched my ankle. Though I fought him, he cuffed it, buckling it. "I'm going to persuade you to go to the wedding with me." He pinned my leg down, fastening the cuff to its awaiting strap.

Even as I struggled, I gazed around for that crop, dreading it. The devil would probably make my whipping pleasurable, but I didn't want him to do to me what he'd done with all

the other escorts. "Untie me! Damn you, I don't want to be cropped like the others."

He snagged my other ankle. "What we do is so far removed, Katya. You might think of them, but I don't." He buckled the last cuff, then secured it. "In any case, we're trying something new."

I was now spread like a starfish, black leather around my wrists and ankles. Immobilized.

"Look at you bound up for me." He grasped a lock of my hair from the pillow. "So beautiful."

I couldn't believe this was happening! Yes, I'd said I would explore my sexuality, but this was una locura! Crazy! "If you aren't going to whip me, then what will you do?" Maybe I could tolerate it if he lost the crop.

"I had an acquaintance who tormented his subs in this manner. I never comprehended the appeal before." He raked his gaze over me. "Now I completely understand."

Torment? "The appeal of what?"

"Forced orgasms."

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Sexually tormenting you. Just the idea gets my cock so hard." It was a rigid line in his pants.

"I didn't agree to this!"

"Have I steered you wrong yet?" He swiftly undressed. As he moved to the top of the bed, his huge shaft wagged, catching my gaze and making me want.

I bit my lip.

"You'll enjoy it." He flashed white teeth. "Eventually."

Chills raced over me.

He leaned down to kiss my forehead. "I'll be right back." He left the room, returning with a small bag and a magic wand--a plug-in electrical vibrator. I'd seen one at Ivanna's. She'd told me the vibrations were so intense they could make your teeth chatter.

Forced orgasms. With a magic wand. I squirmed. "You just had one of those lying around?"

"When I ordered the belt, I got carried away, buying all kinds of things for you. The belt distracted me for days, but I see now that I need to break out more acute tools."

"L-let's talk about this, Ruso."

"You can stop me at any time. All you have to do is agree to go to the wedding with me. Very simple."

"You devil! You can't do this! You're taking away my free will--again!"

"I didn't have to ask. I do own you now. I could compel you in other ways to go with me. But I want to hear you tell me yes."

"Hear me? You won't gag me? Like all the others?"

"No. Never. You're mine--which means I want to catch your every whimper, sigh, gasp, moan, and scream." He plugged the wand into a bedside outlet, turning it on and off as he raised his brows. "Powerful. And this one is unique--it has a range of different settings."


Tags: Kresley Cole The Game Maker Erotic