“AHHH!”
I couldn’t see his eyes when he pressed against me. Mine were clenched shut too tight. But when he curled his fingers tight I screamed and screamed and could not stop.
It was an orgasm, that I knew. But it bore no resemblance to any of the weak trembles of satisfaction I’d given myself. This orgasm made me shiver down to the bone, turning my muscles liquid.
“Oh, God. OhGodOhGodOhGod.”
I slumped back against the wall. His fingers slid from my mouth, and I rasped at the air. The room seemed to have heated up twenty degrees.
When I opened my eyes, I saw the painting first.
KAGE. The green and gold swam in front of me, and then my eyes refocused onto his face. His eyes. He licked his fingers. The fingers that had been inside me. He smiled.
Who was I? Not the girl who walked in the door. That girl wouldn’t have done anything so reckless. That girl wouldn’t take orders from anyone.
But now, panting and sweaty, I waited for him to speak. Waited for him to tell me what happened next. He straightened up in front of me. He gave me one more look, from my bare feet to the top of my head. I ran my hand through my hair shakily, sure that it had gotten completely messed up.
“Perfect,” he murmured. “Just perfect. You’ll do quite well.”
I pulled the hem down on my dress, adjusting it as far down as I could. He held out the shawl to me and I took it from him, my eyes dropping down. I turned to go, but his hand stopped me.
“Wait,” he said.
“You said I could go.”
“Don’t you want your tip?”
I stared as he pulled a wallet from his pocket. It was black, sleek leather. Like a seal’s skin. He riffled through a few hundred dollar bills and pulled them out. I gaped down at the bills. It was five of them. Five hundred dollars.
“A… a tip?”
“Yes. Thank you for delivering the cake. I enjoyed it immensely.”
I choked back the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to take the money. Well, I mean, I did, but it didn’t feel right. I’d fucked up a cake and let him finger me—was that how this worked? There was another feeling inside of me, a feeling that made this seem wrong. For some stupid reason, I didn’t want this to be the end of tonight.
I wanted more than money. I didn’t want to be a whore.
At least he didn’t take your virginity, Lacey. Take the money and go.
I reached out and took the money quickly. I didn’t have any pockets, so I crumpled the bills into my sweaty palm. I didn’t look at the money. I didn’t look at the Kage painting. I didn’t deserve to look at them.
“When will you be back tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
I stared at him.
“Yes. Tomorrow. Lucas told me that I had you for the whole week.”
Chapter Seven
“Tomorrow?” I repeated dumbly. “Who’s Lucas?”
“Cute. The innocence thing, very cute. I wish I could keep you here longer tonight,” Jake said, pacing back and forth in front of the art gallery. He looked like his thoughts were already somewhere else. “But unfortunately, I have some business that needs taking care of.”
“I can’t come tomorrow,” I stuttered. I felt like I was making a mistake, but I couldn’t just stroll back into his penthouse. There seemed to be some kind of mixup. Lucas, whoever he was, hadn’t told me anything and he hadn’t told Steph anything. I had zero idea what was going on.
His eye twitched at the corner, and for a brief moment I saw him look at me with a flicker of anger. It terrified me. His gaze was so intense that I wanted to blurt out that I would come tomorrow even though I couldn’t, I really couldn’t.
“Lucas said you were a gift for the whole week. I’d like you here by eight in the morning sharp. You’ll make my breakfast and—”
“Hold on.”
I raised one of my hands in the air, still clutching the bills in the other hand.
“Hold on one second.” Now I was getting my breath back, and my senses back. I could tell that there was something I was missing.
“What is it?” he snapped in irritation. “Don’t tell me you didn’t expect this. Lucas said—”
“I don’t know who Lucas is,” I interrupted.
“Of course you do. He’s the one who sent you.”
“I’m a friend of the baker’s,” I said carefully, being deliberate and calm with my words. “She told me to deliver—”
“Stop playing games,” he said.
“I’m not!” Now adrenaline was pumping through my system. I wasn’t about to let him yell at me for what was obviously a mix-up on someone else’s part. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, asking me to come back tomor—”