Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“We are.” I nodded regally, hiding my sudden black animosity.
“Have you decided on a price?” Jordon asked, his tone unable to hide his craving of her.
“We were just about to discuss that.” I narrowed my gaze at Markus. “Weren’t we, Mr. Grammer?”
Markus swallowed and raked a hand through his floppy hair. “For the entire night? Not just a few hours?”
I shoved hands into my pants pockets so I didn’t dig my thumbs into his eye sockets and bash their heads together. “If you think you can last that long.” My smirk was thick and condescending. “As you saw, gentlemen, she has spirit.”
Jordon groaned under his breath. “I want her every night of my stay. I’ll pay an extra twenty-thousand a session with her.”
Twenty fucking thousand?
My temper increased a thousand degrees. “Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Wordworth? Twenty wouldn’t even buy an hour with her.” I couldn’t swallow back fresh fury. “And as you’re aware, I’ve already been overly generous to you. I’ve gifted you one night. That’s free, Mr. Wordworth. And now you insult me by offering—”
“Fifty thousand,” Markus rushed. “Fifty k for five hours.”
I pinned him with a feral scowl. “You’ve just offered me less than Wordworth. Fifty for five hours? That’s ten an hour. I already said twenty would be too low.”
“Fine.” Markus wiped his mouth. “Seventy.”
I bowed politely. “Good day, gentlemen. I’m highly confident you’ll enjoy the talents of Neptune and Calico. They’re both exceedingly proficient at delivering a session guaranteed to leave you—”
“One hundred thousand, Sinclair. For however long you want.”
I paused.
My heart crashed and clawed to hold out my hand for such a sum, only to shred it into confetti and throw it in the sea. Normally, that figure would sway me. I’d pat myself on the back for a well-orchestrated deal and snap my fingers to ensure a staff member scurried off to prepare the goddess in question.
But now…now there was hesitation.
A pause, a reluctance—that motherfucking envy that filled me with resentment and rivalry, acting as if I had to compete with these bastards, stewing with malice at the very thought of one of them tasting what I hadn’t.
My hands slipped from my pockets and curled tightly into fists.
I very, very much wanted to punch him. Punch both of them.
Once they were broken and bleeding, I’d be fully within my right to claim my prize. To return to Jinx as the victor and push her to the sand, strip her clothes, spread her legs, and fucking thrust over and—
“Sinclair, glad I found you.” Dr Campbell appeared from the sandy side path that led to his surgery. His forehead furrowed as he noticed the three of us, testosterone ripe in the air, aggression a distinct purr beneath it.
Nodding at the guests, he cleared his throat and pulled a white bottle of pills from his cargo shorts. For a doctor, he kept his uniform lax, adopting the tropical relaxation instead of retaining strict professionalism.
I’d have a word with him about that.
I’d remind him he wasn’t retired…yet.
“Here. Jinx needs to take these for the next week at least. It’s just a comprehensive vitamin and a few other bits and bobs to boost her system—from your own pharmaceutical company.” Pushing the bottle into my palm, he had the audacity to cup my elbow and guide me away from the panting men already enjoying fantasies of fucking a girl who’d fainted at my feet.
“Are you forgetting your place, Campbell?” I snarled, ripping my elbow from his control the moment we were far enough away.
His eyes flashed, nonplussed by my temper. “If you’re renting out Jinx, it’s with strict medical advisement that she be given a minimum of five days to adjust.”
We stood toe to toe. He was shorter, but he used his skills as a medical practitioner to stand on a proverbial box and tower over me.
“She’s perfectly recovered,” I seethed. “No ill effects of her fainting episode. I personally checked she was eating before leaving her to her own devices.”
He shook his head. “One afternoon of food won’t be enough.” He lowered his voice to ensure the impatient guests didn’t overhear. “Her system has no reserves. It will take time to replace what she’s lost, not just one meal. If you put her in Euphoria; if you make her take the elixir”—his eyes narrowed— “for the second time in as many days, I’m afraid she might suffer worse than low blood pressure and mineral deficiency.”
I crossed my arms. “I appreciate your concern, but dabbling in my business affairs is not permitted. Jinx is here to work. I won’t have a freeloader on my shores.”
“So, you’d rather have a dead goddess, is that it?”
I laughed quietly, icily. “She won’t die from a night of fucking, Campbell.”
“No, she’ll die from that damn elixir.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “It’s too potent, Sinclair. It wreaks havoc on hormones and imbalances the natural cycle of just about every system in a human being. They forget to drink, eat. They can’t sleep or rest until it’s run its course. The adrenaline alone that feeds the inflated libido causes hyperawareness, rapid blood flow, and drenches the brain in—”