Ultimatum(2)

He raised an eyebrow. “No?” Gage reached for the phone. “Are you sure?”

The futility of my situation spilled from my eyes. Upset with myself for displaying weakness, I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Don’t call.”

As if I’d given him permission, he uncrossed my legs and wedged them apart. “I love natural redheads.” He slipped his fingers under the edge of my panties, smoothed them over my crotch. “Are you just as red here?” he asked, grabbing a pinch of hair.

With a nod, I closed my eyes. My entire body tingled, and not in a good way. I couldn’t believe my boss was doing this to me. In his office in the middle of a workday.

“I’m tempted to leave you natural, at least for a while. I want to see you first.”

My face burned with humiliation, and it took everything I had to keep my legs apart. I balled my hands until my fingernails bit into skin. “This is sexual harassment, you bastard. It’s illegal, and so is blackmail.”

He withdrew his hand, and by the time I looked up, Gage had reclaimed his seat. “Don’t think of it as blackmail. Think of it as an alternative to prison. I’d much rather punish you myself.” He opened another folder and slid the contents across the desk. “You either submit to me or go to jail. Either way, the decision is yours.”

With unsteady fingers, I fiddled with the paperwork, but couldn’t bring myself to read his demands. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Let’s start with the basics.” He gestured toward the contract. “You’ll be my submissive for the next six weeks, beginning immediately upon your signature. I prefer a live-in arrangement on the weekends. During the week I expect you to follow my rules.” He leaned back in his chair and kept a steady gaze on me. “You’ll come to work as usual, but under no circumstances will you flirt or date other men, or entertain or go out with friends—”

“What about Eve? I spend most of my time at the hospital.”

“I’m aware of that, and I don’t have an issue with you seeing her, but the weekends belong to me, understand?”

If I could shoot daggers with a single glance, he’d feel my pain. “What else?” I tossed the contract down and crossed my arms.

“I expect absolute obedience.” The corner of his mouth curled. “I won’t hesitate to punish you when necessary. Of course, you’ll choose a safe word.” He frowned, as if the idea didn’t please him. “However, should you decide to use it, our contract will become null and void, and I’ll turn you over to the police. If you speak with anyone about this, the same stipulation applies.”

Tears of desolation dripped down my cheeks, and I no longer cared about hiding them. His ultimatum terrified me. I wasn’t a stranger to abuse, but being someone’s slave—in every sense of the word—was a terrifying concept. “Eve will wonder where I am on the weekends.”

“She’ll benefit from our agreement. I’m allowing you to keep the money, which in turn ensures she gets the treatment she needs. I understand it’s experimental, and that you don’t have the luxury of time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know about that?” I hadn’t talked to anyone about Eve’s treatment. It was too painful a subject, and the last thing I wanted was platitudes thrown in my face. The insurance had refused to cover it, and Eve was out of options.

“I have my sources.” He leaned forward with a smirk. “I have vested interest in you, Kayla—ten thousand dollars worth. You’re desperate, and I know you’ll give me what I want because even though I’m giving you a choice, your love for your daughter won’t.”

“There’s a hole in your logic. Even with the ten grand, I’m still short.”

“You underestimate me. I’ll pay for her medical bills in full. She’ll be taken care of.”

The bastard had me, and he knew it. “What will you do to me?”

“It’s all there in the contract . . . but to put it succinctly—” he leaned forward with a glimmer of excitement in the depths of his eyes “—whatever I damn please.”

I forced my attention onto the papers. Certain words and phrases popped out: Flogging. Bondage. Nipple torture. Anal play. I stared at him, slack-jawed. “You’d hurt me like this?”

“Yes,” he lowered his voice, and something about his deep timbre shot through me, “but there’s a flimsy line between pain and pleasure.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Decide now. I’m growing impatient.”