Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
It wasn’t even useful to consider the whole boss-employee dynamic at this point. Clearly the man wasn’t the least bit concerned about the consequences of a relationship with me to either of our careers.
And if I were honest, deep down, as much as I used it as a shield to keep him at bay, I knew he wouldn’t really allow my entire career to be ruined by this. Harrison was an arrogant, domineering, possessive, demanding tyrant at times but he was also an intelligent, compassionate man who lived by a higher set of morals than the typical trust fund baby.
There was no way to be certain, but I had to believe he would make sure I landed on my feet if I were forced from the DA’s office by a scandal.
So that left just us.
Well, not really just us. Strictly speaking, I was currently in a threesome.
Me, Harrison, and his horrible fiancée.
Try as I might to conjure up righteous anger for that despicable woman, I had lived in New York long enough to know that society marriages where there was no love lost happened all the time.
It didn’t mean I wanted to be his mistress. Hell, no. But it did mean I didn’t feel the usual moral guilt I would if the man were truly cheating on a woman he professed to love and wanted to marry.
Of course, that meant there was no way whatsoever that what we were doing was going to last. I might be willing to turn a blind eye to the whole fake fiancée thing but only for so long. The moment that man said I do, as far as I was concerned he was entering into a binding contract.
Whether that was with society or God was for someone far more religious than me to decide. I just knew that as a future attorney, I respected contracts and I wouldn’t be a party to breaking one. Fake relationship or not.
Okay, fiancée processed in the tornado report.
Which again brought me back to us.
There was a doomsday clock attached to this relationship. For most women that would have been a deal breaker but it wasn’t like I was on the hunt for a husband. I was only twenty-four. Marriage was the furthest thing from my mind, especially with law school and my career to pursue.
And it wasn’t like Harrison would be the first boyfriend in history to have a doomsday clock attached to him. Women dated men they knew they’d never marry in a million years all the time. They did it for all kinds of reasons. For the sex, for the money, for the fun of it. Just because I never had didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of it.
That was when a small voice inside my head warned me, You’re not capable of it.
Although the illicit nature of our relationship might be adding to the sexy, taboo nature of it, there was no denying I was heading into dangerous territory.
Harrison was tapping into parts of my personality I never knew existed.
Dark, scary corners of my personality that relished in being called a dirty whore while being forced to submit to ever-increasing, degrading, brutal sex.
We had only had sex twice and both times it was twisted and depraved and mind-blowing. Never in my life had sex been this all-consuming experience where I was able to leave all my usual chaotic and distracted thoughts behind and focus only on my body.
In my limited experience, sex was okay but it didn’t erase from my mind the length of my to-do list, or that work e-mail I needed to send, or that bill I needed to pay, or that phone call I needed to return. Unless it was sex with Harrison.
I’d fucked the man half naked, bent over his desk in the middle of the day!
And even knowing that, I didn’t have enough sense to worry about whether someone was going to burst through the door at any moment. All I could think about was his hands, his mouth, his cock.
What the hell was wrong with me?
And that was before we’d even given any thought to the whole birth control thing.
That would definitely need to be a discussion with him. The pill wasn’t an option for me, and we had already taken a huge risk having gone bareback in his office.
My cheeks warmed as I remembered the feel of him fucking my ass. At least that way I didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant. Still, he would need to start using condoms.
That was, if I continued down this super dark and twisty path with him.
So. Disaster report thus far wasn’t too bad.
My job was there if I wanted it and probably secure regardless if I continued to sleep with him or not.
The fiancée wasn’t a concern until she was the wife, but it meant that this relationship had no chance of going anywhere. It was an absolute dead end.