The way he was looking at me, you’d think I was an all-you-can-eat buffet and he hadn’t had a meal in days. It was at the point where he licked his lips that I forced myself to look away, suddenly becoming very interested in the actual buffet before me. All three courses of the meal were already laid out: salad to start, a juicy steak and baked potato, and a slice of three-layer chocolate cake with a side of vanilla ice cream for dessert.
I unfolded the napkin and laid it in my lap. “Did you make all this?”
“I’m a multimillionaire. I don’t have to cook,” he said, picking up his fork and stabbing his salad. “I pay people to do this for me.”
“I see. Sort of like how you pay for pussy?” I asked, and then took a sip of water from the goblet in front of me.
Noah choked on the bite of salad he had just taken, and I gave myself a mental high five while smirking around the rim of my glass.
“Why is that, anyway?” I asked, not the least bit concerned for his welfare.
“That subject is not up for discussion,” he said, taking a drink of wine. “How are you feeling? Any bleeding or cramping?”
Until he mentioned something about it, I’d almost forgotten about my little excursion to the twat doc. “Well, that’s a personal question, but if you must know—”
“I must, and nothing about your body is a secret from me for the next two years. The sooner you get used to that idea, the better this situation will be. Now, you were saying?”
I gritted my teeth together, trying my damnedest not to tell him to go fuck himself, even though that might have actually been sort of hot. Mentally picturing that scene, I needed to do a quick count to ten in my head before I felt reasonably calm enough to answer his question. “The cramps have subsided, and I haven’t had any bleeding at all. So does that mean you’re going to fuck me now?”
“Yes. How about right here on the table?” he said facetiously as he made a show of testing its durability with a shake. He gave me a crooked grin to make sure I knew he was only joking. “I think I can allow you to have the evening off to recuperate. I know you hate me and must think some pretty terrible things about me, but I’m not a monster. I am capable of showing a little compassion every now and then, you know.”
Double Agent Coochie was already strapping on her hooker heels to perform her table dance and was beyond disappointed when he took it all back. She was threatening a revolt, but I mentally stomped that slut in the face and told her to simmer down.
“Have you called anyone to let them know you’re okay?” he asked, cutting into his steak.
I wasn’t really sure how I was supposed to respond to that. If I told him the truth, it might piss him off enough that he would decide to take my phone away from me. But he hadn’t established any rules regarding having contact with family or friends, plus he knew I had my cell. I hated to lie, because one lie almost always led to another, which led to another, until you’d woven one heck of a web of deceit that was near impossible not to get caught up in. Plus I was still looking forward to watching his pretty, pretty face in one of his pissy tantrums. So, screw it, I told him the truth.
“I talked to my best friend, Dez, before I came down to dinner.”
“And your parents?” he asked, his face not showing any indication that he was upset by my admission.
I was disappointed, to say the least … and I also had to snatch Double Agent Coochie’s hooker heels from her and grind one into her sassy little mouth.
“They think I’m away at school. I’ll have to call them eventually, but they can’t know where I am or what I’m doing. It would kill them.”
Noah nodded and tented his fingers under his chin. “That’s understandable. But I want you to feel free to keep in touch with whomever you need to. As long as you’re holding up your end of the deal and not trying to break our contract, you’ll have most all the freedoms you enjoyed before you came to me.”
“Most?” I asked, arching a brow in question.
“All except for your body, of course. That belongs to me,” he clarified.
“So I can leave the house whenever I want?” I asked, testing the limitations.
“I expect you to be here when I am here, unless I have preauthorized an outing. I say preauthorized because I want to know where you are at all times. Plus, there may be times when I feel the need to come home during the day for a little stress relief,” he said with a crooked grin.
Let me clarify: that wasn’t just any crooked grin. My pussy was leaking at an abnormal rate and I feared for the safety of the expensive fabric that lined the chair I was sitting in. My nipples were at full attention and I pulled my shoulders forward, hoping my hussified reaction wouldn’t be noticeable. But it didn’t stop there. Oh, no, I was apparently on a roll with my newfound whorishness.
“And are you feeling stressed now?” I asked in a sultry voice.
Don’t ask me where that came from. I didn’t even recognize my own voice. Apparently I had let my guard down just enough to allow my hoochie of a coochie to get the drop on me, going straight for the verbal function of my brain and setting up camp. That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
Noah chuckled and licked his bottom lip, which really sort of pissed me off because I kind of wanted to do that. “Let’s see. I have an incredibly sexy woman in my house, whom I’ve paid some major dough to have my way with anytime I want, yet I can’t because I’ve brought a bit of discomfort to her. So, yeah, I guess you might say I’m a tad bit stressed.”