“Have something on your mind?” Her voice is uncertain as she walks
in my direction.
“I’ve done some thinking,” I say, propping up on my elbows. I curl
my fingers through the tips of my new dark hair. “I’m not sure when I’m getting
out of here, so why continue to waste time?”
She towers over me and crosses her arms. One hip juts out to the
side, like she won’t be convinced until she hears more.
I pull at my leggings and hike my cleavage, fighting any trepidations.
It might be better if I stand up.
In my platform heels I’m almost able to meet her wary glance.
“Maybe I need to embrace a different destiny.”
She sighs in disbelief.
I place my hands on her defensive stance and kiss her gently. She
doesn’t respond. It’s as if my mouth—the mouth she’s been craving for nearly a
week—is suddenly unremarkable to her. I understand. She’s expecting loathing
and having to manipulate me into doing the things she wants.
I can’t let that stop me.
I dive in again, this time more forcefully, weaving my hands
through her hair, making noises similar to those I was practicing on the bed.
“Heather, I want to give you pleasure. The way you’ve given me pleasure,” I
whisper in her ear.
“You’ve accused me of getting you drunk, coercing you. Just last
night you hated me. Strong words for someone who now wants to bring me
pleasure.”
I glide my hands along the satin of her jacket. “I knew what I
wanted from the moment I saw you on the dance floor.”
She stops my hands midway down her arm and squeezes them. Hard.
Reminding me of who’s in charge. “What do you know about giving a woman
pleasure?”
“I may not know all the fancy tricks you do,
but I know a genuine smile and the subtle gestures of permission.” I break free
of her grasp and intertwine my fingers between hers. “The bow of a head,
flutter of lashes, relaxing of shoulders, allowing me to try…”
Hesitantly, she drops her arms, giving me an opening.
I guide her jacket off and let it fall to the floor, not allowing
our gaze to break, and then smack my lips against hers, drinking greedily from
her mouth.
She breaks away to once again inspect. “What if this is just a
temporary trick of the light? Something different to distract me.”
My hands wrap around her waist and slowly untuck her blouse.
“Didn’t you tell me that different was good?”
The rouge begins to smear between our cheeks.
I unbutton the few buttons of her light blouse and pull it off her
arms.
Her fingers glide along the edge of my leggings. I suck in my
stomach more.
“Careful, Angie. I like you like this.”
I smile. It’s working. The blouse slips through my fingers
like the last rays of light before sunset. I tug at her to follow me back to
the bed.
This is it. My nerves are a mess. The rush of my power play is
catching up to me.
