He gives me a clipped nod of his head. “It won’t go unpunished. Now isn’t the time. When you dive into a sea of sharks, you mustn’t bleed. Not even a drop, because they’ll sniff it from a mile away.”
No tears.
No weakness.
I lift my chin, forcing a smile. “Did you know Perry has an orange car?”
At this, Winston laughs. Such a beautiful, rare sound. I could bottle it up and listen to it always. “Is that why Mother was all up in arms?”
“It’s . . . special.” I grin at him. “He loves it though. Threatened to make me walk if I didn’t stop making fun of it.”
His expression grows serious. “Speaking of, I owe you a car.”
“Winston,” I scoff. “You don’t owe me a car.”
It’s a bitter reminder of what this is to him. A transaction. A game. Something to pass the time. For him, it’s a way to spend his endless supply of money and find entertainment. For me, it’s becoming so much more. Sometimes, though, when I stare deep enough into his cold blue eyes, I find warmth for me that gives me hope.
I have to believe we’re more.
Even if I have to believe it for the both of us.
“I do owe you a car. I promised you last night.” He stops as the song ends, eyes boring into me. “And you owe me a blowjob.”
“If you please me at the birthday bash, I’ll reward you with my dick down your pretty throat.”
“Are you saying I please you?” I taunt, grinning at him.
His lips twitch. “You’re too poor right now for my praise. I’ve raised the price anyway.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“One you want to worship.” He flashes me a wolfish grin. “Come on. I know a place where you’ll get your filthy wish.”
5
Winston
It takes everything in me not to grab Ash’s wrist and drag her through the hundreds of people until I have her alone in some dark corner. Instead, I offer my elbow—because I’m a fucking gentleman—and escort her away from the dancing people toward the kitchen. People continue to stop me and wish me a happy birthday, much to my annoyance. Ash sniggers under her breath each time I let out a curse when another person swoops in on me. Several of them eye Ash with curiosity while a few actually call her by my sister Tinsley’s name.
What I’m about to do to her, though, isn’t very brotherly.
We finally make it to the kitchen, and I walk her past the harried waitstaff. A few workers throw us confused looks, but no one argues.
“Where are we going?” Ash asks as I drag her down a quiet hallway.
“Someplace private.”
I open the storage pantry and tug her inside before closing the door behind us. Her hazel eyes burn into me, and she licks her lips.
“What now?” Her voice is low and husky, serving to get my dick painfully hard.
“Now you get on your knees like a good little girl.”
Her sassy eyebrow hikes up, but she starts to obey. I halt her, gripping her blonde locks.
“Not looking like my fucking sister.” I pull off the wig and toss it onto the shelf beside me. “There. I prefer you a mess anyway.”
Rather than be insulted, she gives me her famous heart eyes, grinning wide and happily. Girl is twisted as fuck because she enjoys my cruelty just as much as she likes my forced praise.
“I missed you,” she says, standing on her toes to press a kiss to my lips.
Gripping both sides of her head, my fingers spearing into her frizzy, pinned hair, I devour her with a claiming kiss—one I’ve been dying to do all night. My sweet Cinderelliott tastes like cherry Starburst and sinful promises. All sweetness melts away as she tugs on my bottom lip with her teeth, her hazel eyes gleaming with wickedness.
“A grand if you let me shoot it on your face,” I say with a smirk. “Let me paint your pretty eyelashes, beautiful.”
The girl predictably preens at my words. “Five, and I’ll let you take a picture.”
“I surely thought you’d be spooked from photographs since our previous ones fell into the wrong hands,” I taunt. “It seems I created a filthy monster who doesn’t care about consequences, though.”
“You did,” she sasses. “Plus, I really need the money, Win. A girl’s gotta eat.”
I grip her shoulders and guide her to her knees. The miles of blue fabric from her dress pool around us as though we’re standing in a blue lagoon of tulle. “I’ll feed you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Spoken like a true man.”
A laugh snorts out of me. “You won’t be eating my cock, little girl, you’ll be gagging on it. Huge difference. I meant I’ll take care of you.”
A pregnant pause fills the air, and I realize it sounds a lot more prince-like and charming than I intend. She’s my asset. My toy. Mine. And I need to keep her fed and safe if I want it to stay that way.