Page 93 of Injustice and Absolution

I should have let it go, but I can’t stand the thought of Drew being mad at me for another whole week… Or even a day. I just want things to go back to the way they used to be.

“Thinking about doing this for you … knowing you’ll be in here watching, rock hard and ready to fuck me... It makes me hot...”

I take his hand and run it between my legs.

“Do you feel that?”

The smile he offers me is weak, but it’s a start. Grabbing his shoulders, I pull him in front of the monitor that looks into the champagne room. I catch sight of a man sitting alone, waiting, and I feel like I could hurl right then and there.

I fish his chair out from behind his desk and bring it to him so he can relax as he watches. Giving him a playful push, I tell him to sit.

But he doesn’t sit. He moves quickly, startling me. Gripping my wrist painfully, his cold eyes are back, penetrating my soul.

“You belong tome, Delilah,” he growls.

His nostrils flare, and his eyes narrow as he grips the waistband of my bottoms in his other hand. Tearing them clean off me, he leaves me in only my top and my thong. My lips tremble, and my body quakes with fear as the same anger I saw in him last week resurfaces.

Suddenly, I feel like a mouse caught between two traps, with nowhere to go. On one end, anger at my refusal. The other, anger at my participation.

I’m more confused and scared than ever.

“He is not permitted to touch what’s mine, and you’re to leave your bra and underwear on at all times. Is that clear?”

How can he expect me to talk right now, let alone give him the answer he’s demanding? I wouldn’t speak even if I could, afraid he wouldn’t like my answer no matter what it is.

“I’ll be watching to make sure my rules are being followed. Bybothof you.” His insinuation that I would want or allow a complete stranger to put his hands or anything else on me is revolting.

He nods, dismissing me. Stepping back, he waits for me to move. When I don’t, he huffs his annoyance and takes my hand roughly in his. He tugs me along behind him until we get to the entrance of the champagne room. The entire time, the voice inside of my head is screaming at me to snap out of my terrified trance and run.

But I can’t. The fear Drew instilled in me last week is back, and all I can think about is appeasing his anger again. Getting him back to the proud state he was in earlier.

Why did I have to open my mouth and bring Royce up again?

Why did I have to question what he wanted? He’s never questioned me.

With Drew’s hard body at my back, I lock eyes with the lone man, slouched low in the wide, tufted chair with his legs spread. He pats his knee gently as the taste of bile rises in my throat.

“Make me proud, pretty girl,” Drew whispers before nudging me through the doorway.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

DELILAH

They say money is dirty, but what can be said about those who bathe themselves in filth to obtain it?

With more cash than I’ve ever held in my hand before—and shame burning through every cell in my body—I sit on the arm of the chair the man just vacated.

I forced myself to tap into a place I haven’t visited in over five years. The place my mind fled to when I was with my father and he was forcing me to do things I hated doing. I didn’t want to go there, but it was the only thing that allowed me to continue moving my body against the stranger’s.

I somehow managed to leak enough of my “succulent nectar”—as the client referred to it while he spurred me on—onto his pant leg.

Repeating the phrase causes sweat to lick the back of my neck before a cold, icy breeze covers it in goose bumps.

No doubt my performance was as much for the client as it was for Drew. How could it not be, no matter if it was Drew’s fantasy or otherwise?

When he felt I’d fulfilled it well enough, Drew pushed through the door, halting my tormented gyrating and putting an end to my misery.

He thanked the nameless client for his time then requested I remain here while he escorts him out. I fear what’s in store for me when he returns. I’m still not convinced he won’t be angry, but the bawdy carnality on his face when he left has to be better than perilous threat.

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