“Jack.” But you can just call me Master, sweet thing. “Tell me about yourself.” Quickly. Before I walk around this desk and see just how submissive you are.
Even her voice was sexy, in that unsure, I’m so asking-to-be-trained kind of way when she began talking about her non-existent social life. There couldn’t be a more perfect woman for what I had in mind. Twenty years old, lived with her sister, didn’t have a boyfriend, and was probably the most innocent little creature I’d ever met in my life. Definitely perfect for what I had in mind.
“That’s about all there is to know.” Those hesitant little eyes looked up at me, and I swear, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. The only problem with this woman was going to be reeling in my appetite and not scaring the shit out of her.
“What are you looking for in a relationship, Emily?” Whatever the fuck it is, I plan on making you change it.
She blushed. Fucking blushed! Shit, that’s sexy. “Um, I really don’t know. I haven’t had one before.” Consider this interview over, I found what I need. She wouldn’t even know what hit her until we’d walked down the aisle and was finally mine.
“Maybe we should go to dinner and find out?” Dinner, and then my bed, that is. I wanted this little woman in my bed, and had no intention of denying my needs. She’d give me what I wanted after I instructed her in the ways of passion. This was going to be too damn easy! An innocent over the age of sixteen, life just didn’t get much better than this.
I know I’m a son of a bitch, never claimed I wasn’t, but when I want something, I don’t stop until it’s mine. I wanted Emily Yates. Hell, the girl was ripe for the picking, and since she answered my ad, obviously she was ready to give it up.
“I don’t know. Well, I guess dinner would be okay?”
Was she asking me? Dinner would be great, and after, well that would be something she could write in her diary. She looked like the type of girl who kept a diary. I would have to read that entry when she finally became mine.
“Good. I’ll make a few calls and then we’ll leave.” I gave her the smile that helped me get other women in bed, so I know it would melt her little heart. Picking up the phone I informed my secretary that I’d be leaving early and to call ahead to Per Se, my favorite restaurant, and let them know I would arrive within the half hour. Normally there was a reservation list, but I had a personal table whenever I wanted one.
I stood, thankfully in control of my body again, and watched as she made it to her feet. She had a natural grace about her, but her trembling hand gave away her nerves when she clutched her purse. She stiffened when I wrapped my arm around her, and I bit back a smile. Getting used to my touch would be something I’d enjoy teaching her. “Shall we?”
With a small nod of assent, all I really needed, I escorted her out of the office. Stopping by my secretary’s desk, briefly I informed her that she could cancel all other interviews. Lorna seemed shocked at first, but quickly masked her emotions. She was nothing if not professional.
I filled the ride to Per Se mostly with talking about myself, something I rather enjoyed. Most women chatted non-stop about inconsequential things, but Emily seemed much more reserved. Unless I directly asked her a question, she seemed fine letting me do all the talking. That would be something I’d work on, but not to the point that she chattered excessively.
Judging from the way her eyes opened widely, she was impressed as we walked through the doors of the restaurant. I made a note to get her more acclimated to my standard of living. Lorna would be compiling a full background check on her while we were dining, but I knew just from her awe that she lived a much different lifestyle than I.
We were seated immediately, and I again knew that she wasn’t accustomed to fine living when asked what she preferred to drink. The way she turned those hazel eyes to me in deferment was charming. “We’ll start with a bottle of Cros-Parantoux.” Waving away the waiter, I gave her an encouraging smile.
“You’ve told me you live with your sister. What does she do?” I wanted to get her talking about her life so I could see if there were any skeletons in her closet, before making a final decision. In truth, it wouldn’t matter if there were. I only needed to know how to erase them from public knowledge.
“She works for the homeless shelter.” Her face lit up when she discussed that, and for the first time tonight, she added more information to our conversation. “Kim loves helping the more unfortunate, and is usually griping about how more needs to be done.”