Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Which I no longer believe. It’s not Devereaux. It’s someone trying to hurt Devereaux.
My plan solidifies right here and now. I need to get closer to him.
With silent feet, I inch closer and see Devereaux’s office door open, and I rush back down the stairs before either of them spots me listening.
I need a solid plan on how to get closer to him. An idea forms. Luna trudges in through the front doors of the club.
“I’m so tired today,” she says, dragging her feet over to me.
“Do you want me to take most of the tables tonight so you can rest?”
Her face lights up like the Fourth of July. “Yes, please. You sure you don’t mind?”
“Positive.” I like Luna. She’s the nicest girl here and has helped me out the most. “Why are you so tired?”
“Patrick and I stayed up all night.” Patrick’s her boyfriend, and I’ve heard her talk about him plenty.
“Doing what?”
Her laughter billows before she says, “We were fucking, Swan.” She says it as if talking about sex is as normal as talking about the weather. For me it’s not.
“Oh.” My cheeks flame. To anyone else, it would be obvious why they were up all night, but people like me—innocent girls—don’t think about those sorts of things. It’s most likely because it’s been so long since I’ve had sex.
“You really need to get a little more experience.” She edges closer. “Your boyfriend isn’t fucking you good enough?”
“Oh, my god, Luna.” I swat her away, trying not to die from embarrassment.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. You’re probably just not into how he’s fucking you. My ex liked me face down. Ass up. Smack. Smack.” She exaggerates the words with a roll of her eyes.
“Well, my boyfriend isn’t like that.”
“Seriously. Is he not getting the job done?”
A shadow looms behind me, and I don’t need to turn around to know who is lurking. I can feel him. Heat radiates off him in waves, making my body tighten.
“Who’s not getting what job done?” Devereaux’s deep voice vibrates across my nipples, standing them at attention.
Luna’s not mortified like me. I turn around, and before I can tell him we weren’t talking about anyone, she speaks. “Swan’s boyfriend isn’t getting the job done, if you know what I mean.” She raises a brow so there’s no misunderstanding. She means sex.
Now. Now I could die from embarrassment, not like earlier, but now.
“What job?” Devereaux asks, obviously not grasping Luna’s underlying tone.
“Nothing,” I say, trying my best to shut Luna up and end this conversation.
“The job. Sex. Swan’s boyfriend is a dud in the bedroom.”
Devereaux’s intrigued eyes crash with my mortified ones. “Is that true?”
“I never said that.”
Luna parks a hand on her hip. “You didn’t have to. I can tell.”
“My boyfriend is top-notch in the bedroom.” Nerves weigh me down.
“Like how?” Luna asks.
I flounder for an answer because I can’t believe she asked for specifics. What’s more unbelievable is that Devereaux hasn’t walked away. He’s waiting for my answer too.
My mind draws a blank. I can’t even remember my fake boyfriend’s name at this moment.
The only thing I can think of is my interlude with Devereaux in the kitchen that spurred my fantasy in the shower.
“Like spankings and such,” I blurt.
Devereaux’s startled eyes zip to mine, and I can feel the weight of his world behind them. “He spanks you?” He seems off put by that idea.
“Yep, all the time. We can’t get enough of it.” Ok, I’m too eagerly telling this lie.
“Really?” Devereaux stares at me, but I can’t tell whether the crinkle between his brows means he’s amused, bored, or perhaps, intrigued.
“It’s always the innocent ones,” Luna says before she ambles away, leaving me alone with Devereaux.
“Your ass must be sore all the time,” he says.
“I’m a tough girl.” I wink, trying to seduce him. “I can handle it.”
“You can handle it?”
It’s silent in the club, because they haven’t turned on the music yet, and all I can hear is the galloping of my anxious heart.
I nod. “Yes, I can handle it.”
In a flash, he tugs me deeper into the server station and braces his hands beside my head, caging me in. “Let me ask you one question.” His voice is sharp like a dagger ready to pierce straight through my heart.
I swallow. “Ok,” I peep out.
“Does he use his hand or a belt?”
I can’t answer because I feel like I’m a fly trapped in a glass jar, suffocating. It feels like all the air is being sucked from my lungs by his powerful inhale.
Devereaux lifts his hand and tucks a stray strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. “I was hoping you’d say belt, so I wouldn’t want to punch the fuck out of some guy I’ve never met for getting to touch you.”
Belt. Belt. Belt. I want to scream the word, but he walks away, leaving in his wake a gasping, naïve girl who can’t play with the big dogs.