own me, but it’s all a game.
That’s all sex has ever been to me. A game. And I don’t lose. Not when it comes to control. Not when it comes to getting down and dirty. And definitely not when it comes to giving in to what a man wants.
What does Jack want? What does he like? Is he gentle? Does he like it rough? Is he selfish or giving? Top or bottom? My imagination has run wild for days with no end in sight.
One thing’s for certain though. He wants me. The question is, would it be such a bad thing to want him back? Am I even capable of wanting someone without losing my shit like I did in the hall? Why’d I have to ruin it by grabbing his dick and turning it into a battle for control? Why couldn’t I just…be in the moment and tell him how I feel? That I might want him in a way that I didn’t even think was possible.
I shake off the thought and go back to getting ready for a dinner party with Jack’s boss. The fact that he asked instead of demanded that I attend, along with the trust he’s obviously giving me by inviting me in the first place, is enough to melt the last of my reservations about him. He’s a good guy. And I really don’t want to screw him over.
Just like a weapon, I wield the dark red lipstick with precision, swiping it against my lips one last time before puckering as I take in my nearly flawless complexion in the mirror. Tattoo concealer is a godsend, and even though it isn’t perfect, it’ll have to do.
A soft knock distracts me from inspecting my reflection any further. Shoulders straight, I grab my purse laying on the vanity, then sashay toward the closed bedroom door.
“Yes?” I say as soon as it’s opened.
“We’re going to be late,” Jack tells me.
“You can’t rush art,” I return with a smirk, feigning confidence.
His cool blue eyes take me in, making note of every imperfection and misplaced hair on my head. My breath is held hostage in my lungs as I wait for him to come to a conclusion while hating the control he has over me.
“You are a masterpiece,” he breathes, brushing the back of his knuckles against my temple and down to my chin. I could melt for this man. The way his eyes are tinted with lust. The way his breath fans across my cheeks. The way his lips tempt me to lift my chin and close the distance between us. All of it could break me. It could ruin everything. My plans to escape. To start a new life. To grab hold of the second chance I’ve been dreaming about since I was a little girl.
And all it would take is a kiss. A simple…innocent….
I drop my chin to my chest and look down at the buttons on his white dress shirt in an attempt to break the spell he cast on me with a simple compliment.
“We should get going,” I whisper.
“Yeah. Of course.”
He drops his hand to his side before offering his arm. When I take it, we exit the apartment and head to his car. The gentleman opens the passenger side a few minutes later and smirks when he takes in my stunned expression. Quickly, I cover it up with indifference, then slide inside.
“Thanks. Again,” he tells me as he slips behind the steering wheel.
“Seems like you owe me. Again,” I quip.
“Seems that I do. If only I could find your guilty pleasure so that I could pay up.”
“If only.”
The silence is comfortable as we fly down the road to make up for the time I spent applying makeup and matching the perfect shoes with the black cocktail dress I’d chosen for the evening.
As I take in the GPS lighting up the dashboard, I break the quiet ambiance. “So, what exactly do you need from me tonight?”
“Just…”––he shrugs and turns on his blinker––“the perfect fiancée, I guess.”
“And what, exactly, does your perfect fiancée look like?”
I can feel his gaze slide over me before he turns back to the road. “You’ll do fine.”
“I’m great at role play, don’t get me wrong, Jacky Boy, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”
That same boyish grin flashes across his face, playing peekaboo with my ovaries as the light from the street bounces across his handsome features. “Role play, huh? Why am I not surprised?”
He has