My fingers play with her clit again as my other hand comes back to rest on her throat, reminding her that the whole purpose of this is pleasure. I want to fuck her right now, but I can’t. Not until we get the ground rules figured out. She’s not signing anything tonight, so this verbal sparring is all we have to set it straight until she’s ready to commit. I take her hand and place it over the hard pulsating bulge in my pants. “You should want to submit to me because it makes me hard. It makes me want to fuck you in every way possible. It makes me addicted to you, Grace. Submitting to my whims so that I am pleased is addictive. I want that more than anything. I want a woman who will give me that when I ask for it.”
“Then why all the secrecy? Why the NDA? I mean, if you’re so convinced that this is good for me, and you’ve checked me out, then why do you have to gag me with the threat of legal action?”
“Please, Grace. I’m a Hollywood movie star. My father is a Hollywood legend. My family’s production company has hands in more than two dozen high-profile projects at this very moment. What I like in private is no one’s business but mine.”
“You’re wrong,” she says, interrupting me. That ticks me off a little, but since she’s not mine yet, I let it pass. “It’s not just your business, it’s my business too. Which means it’s unfair that I can’t articulate my experiences with a confidante just because your career might be impacted. You seem to think that there’s only one person in this contract, and that’s you. And honestly, that’s a big red flag for me. Because if my feelings and experiences are that inconsequential to you that the contract is written to exploit me and favor you, then you are preying on me. Pure and simple.”
“So leave,” I say impulsively. “Leave. And forget everything I said to you tonight. Just move on with your life and I’ll move on with mine.”
She swallows under my palm again and it takes all my self-control not to flip her over and fuck her blind. Her hand comes up to her neck once again, and once again she pries my fingers from her throat. And then she smiles a big fake smile and tips her head up. “It was great to spend time with you, Mr. Asher. Perhaps we’ll meet again some other day.”
And then she picks up her shoes, discarded when, I have no idea, and walks back down the pea gravel path to the beach.
“You’ll get lost,” I call out to her. “If you take the beach. You’ll get lost because you won’t know which path to take back to the bungalows.”
She turns around, walking backwards as she speaks. “I’m a big girl, Vaughn. A grown woman, in fact. I think I’ll manage.” And then she turns her back and skips down the few concrete stairs that stop at the sand.
“What will it take then?” I call again. “Grace! What will it take?”
She stops and turns. “Why? Why do you give a shit about me? Just stop and leave me alone. I’m not interested in feeding some sick pathology—”
“I’m not sick. It’s not sick to have a full, enriching sexual fantasy. I—”
“See,” she says cutting me off. “You’re so fucking self-absorbed, you assume I’m talking about you. But I’m not, OK? Did it ever occur to you that I have my own reasons for saying no? Reasons that have nothing to do with you.”
What?
“And you’re so fucking clueless. Trust? You’re telling me to trust you when you’ve never earned it. Why the fuck should I trust you? Who the hell are you? I mean, yeah, I admit I’ve stalked you relentlessly online. I’ve tweeted shit about you that would make porn stars blush. And it would be very easy to just let you fuck me sideways, as you put it, and then walk away with the movie-star feather in my cap. But Jesus Christ, Asher. You’re an Oscar-winning prick.”
I laugh. I can’t help it.
“I’m glad you think that’s funny.” And then she turns and starts her trek down the beach, muttering out, “Asshole.”
I run to catch up to her and then I grab her arm. She pulls away, dropping her shoes and lifting her hands up in some kind of fake karate stance. “Don’t,” she orders. “Back off. I’m a certified Tae Bo specialist at the Women’s Health Spa in LoDo. And I’m warning you, I will not be held responsible—”
“Tae Bo? What the fuck—”
“Yah!” She smacks me in the neck with the side of her hand and I grasp my throat, gasping for air. “Tae Bo!” she screams as I fall to my knees and choke. “Oh, shit, Asher! I’m sorry! I’ve never done that to a real person before! Are you OK?”