Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Finally, he spoke. “Tonight, I want you to look at this as if it’s just a date. Just two people having dinner. Get to know me. Try to be open-minded about enjoying the evening.”
I gave him a yeah right look.
“I mean it. I’ll reward your obedience.”
His eyes were flirty. I didn’t want flirty. But he rewards obedience, he punishes defiance. I had been punished already and knew that to be true, for sure. This guy loved mind games, that much was obvious. Making me snuggle in exchange for not getting raped, offering me vanilla sex if I complied, raping me, restraining me, and now making me pretend to be on a date and be happy about it?
I swallowed hard, “How will I be rewarded?”
He looked thoughtful for a second. “We’ll see.”
I thought back to our first night together. He wanted me to pretend to be happy about lying in his arms in order to have him not touch me sexually. This seemed like it was a lot like that. But it was probably a trick, too, because when I’d woken up the next morning, he was doing sexual things to me anyway, taking advantage of the fact that my guard was down. What was his trick this time?
“Why would I trust you after you tricked me that first night?”
“Whoa, that wasn’t a trick. I kept my word. I didn’t fuck you that night. In the morning you were rubbing your sweet body all over me and I just responded. I’m just a red-blooded man.”
I rolled my eyes. He was so full of it. As if I’d rub all over him.
“I’m trusting you,” he said, touching my hair, twirling a curl with his index finger. “I’m taking you out in public with me when you could make a scene, when you could try to run away from me. I think you know that it’d be very stupid to do either. I think you know you’re lucky that you’re not still tied to my bed. I’m trusting that you won’t do anything stupid. Compromise. I’m trusting you. You give me some of that back.”
I backed away, not wanting him to touch me and hating that this was a veiled warning for me to not try to get away tonight. It had occurred to me, of course it had. I could sneak out the bathroom window. I could hope someone else was in the bathroom and tell someone in the bathroom that they needed to call the cops. But I hadn’t hatched a real plan because I didn’t know how to do it without putting Dad and the Crenshaws at risk.
What choice did I have about this little game, though? He was repeatedly letting me know he was in charge, and I didn’t feel like I had much choice in the role I’d play.
I’d had fleeting thoughts in the past about joining the community theatre. Maybe I could just look at this night as being in a play, playing a role. Couldn’t I? Could I pull it off? I wasn’t sure if I was capable.
“I don’t like to talk consequences, Tia, because it’s usually not necessary. Most people who know me know what they put at stake when they cross me. But maybe you and I should have that conversation. Just this once.”
“We don’t need to have that conversation,” I said, not wanting him to make it impossible for me to play this role tonight. But by the look in his eyes, I think he wanted to scare me. And he was. Every hair on my body was at attention.
“Let’s just say this, then. Let’s just say that all you hold dear is at stake with me, Tia. Now, tomorrow, twenty years from now. Always. I don’t forget debts and won’t forgive betrayal. Capeche?”
This was going to be a fun experiment. I’d get to see what she was made of. Could she be convincing, or would it take some work to get her to be as perfect outside of the bedroom as she was in it?
Now she seemed like she was trying to mentally prepare herself as we sat parked while I checked my voicemail messages. When I got out of the car and reached to open her door, I held an index finger up, signaling her to wait while I walked around and opened the door for her. She got out of the car and looked up at me.
“Chivalry should be shot dead and pissed on.” She flashed a look of disgust at me.
“And why is that?” I was taken aback.
“Because it’s one of the things that keeps women oppressed.”
I was a little shocked at her comment and her brashness.
She flashed a smile at me. “This is me. The real me.”
I laughed, a big open-mouthed laugh. She looked embarrassed.
“Well, I guess I’m an old-fashioned guy. I’ll be oppressing you every chance I get. Opening the door for you is something you should look on as a gift, my treating you like a queen. My queen.”