Me: Deal.
Winston: I’m on my way.
I toss my phone on the dresser and then go on a hunt for a Sharpie. I can’t believe we’ve negotiated this deal. It’s so fucked up, but I want him. I need to feel this connection between us. Quickly, I make my way into his condo office. Of course, his office at home is just as immaculate as his one at Halcyon. I stop to admire a photo of his family when his father was living. This week, knowing I’ll have to see his family tomorrow, I’ve researched all I could about them. His father died in an accident five years ago, and the family has been fractured ever since.
I locate the black Sharpie and then rush back to my room. After stripping, I awkwardly write “Winston’s Dirty Whore,” though it’s hard to read because it’s difficult to write upside down. Once I finish, I send a picture that coincidentally has a picture of my tits too. Like he promised, he continues to pay me for pictures, but he pays a lot more for the ones with nudity.
I receive money from him before a response.
Typical Winston.
Winston: Anyone ever tell you you’re wife material?
I roll my eyes but secretly preen at his words. Just like he needs to say depraved shit to me, I need his praise. He layers it on thick, and it’s always bullshit, but I still love it, nonetheless.
Me: Yeah, some guy in the elevator earlier . . .
When he doesn’t reply right away, I have a flare of panic as I imagine him firing every person who works in the building.
Me: Kidding! Abort mission to kill everyone.
Winston: I’m whipping your ass with the belt for that one.
Me: No way!
Winston: I’ll buy you a car.
Me: Winston! You can’t buy me a car for whipping my ass!
Winston: Anything you want. It’s yours. I get to make it hurt . . .
I’m so sick.
So, so sick.
Me: You’re over the top. Maybe I’d let you do it for free.
Winston: And give you a chance to pussy out? Fuck no. I want an iron-clad agreement. My belt gets you whatever the fuck you want. You need a car anyway. You’re giving me ulcers with your Uber threats.
I laugh as I crawl onto the bed and wait for him.
Me: Fine. As long as you coddle me after and make me feel loved.
He sends me a bunch of eyeroll emojis.
Winston: Little girls are so fucking high maintenance.
Me: You’re the one who started this fucked-up ride. Too late to get off now. We’re going full-speed ahead.
Winston: Fine. I’ll baby your ass. Happy?
I send him heart-eye emojis that earn more eyeroll emojis.
I’m laughing until I hear the front door open. Shrimp sings happily from the living room. He always has a special chirp for Winston. Winston doesn’t get it, but it’s a big deal. Shrimp doesn’t warm up to people easily, but he likes Winston.
“Look how fucking dirty you are,” he growls as he enters the room. “Striking deals for sex. You’re wicked, Miss Elliott. Give me your phone.” I toss it to him, and he sets it to record before arranging it on the dresser.
I drink in his handsome appearance. He’s hot in a three-piece light-gray suit that makes his blue eyes pop. His dark blond hair is styled in his usual perfect way, and he’s sporting a small amount of scruff that I crave to feel between my thighs.
When he starts undoing his belt, heat floods through me. I love the efficient way he unbuckles it, a feral glint in his intense eyes. My heart stutters in my chest when he whips the belt off with a swoosh.
“Your butt plug still in?” he asks, his brows furrowed.
“Yep.”
His lips curl into an evil smirk. “How’s that new size working out for you?”
“Once it’s in, I barely notice it.”
“You wish it were my dick instead.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. That hurt. Definitely not looking forward to that ever again.”
He barks out a laugh. “Too damn bad. I’m fucking that ass soon. I might even do it tonight.” He arches a brow in challenge, but I don’t back down.
“It’s not a part of this negotiation, but you can work it in to the next one.”
“Flip over and bring me that ass.”
I scoot down toward the end of the bed, hanging my legs off, and then twist until I’m on my stomach. His palm runs down my back and then he squeezes my butt cheek. Then, he playfully tugs on the butt plug. I groan at the sensation. It’s too big to just pop out. This size takes work to get out.
“Hold onto the covers, Ash. Scream all you want. No one can save you from the villain.”
I squirm, a nervous thrill trembling through me. “Maybe I don’t want to be saved.”
“You’re a pathetic damsel in distress,” he bites out. “Needy and desperate for an old man’s attention.”