Page 41 of Stolen Empire
I swallow hard.
My mind spins through every angle, every escape route I've ever learned.
It's one job.
That's all he's asking.
One job and I walk away clean.
No more locked rooms.
No more threats.
I go back to the streets, back to the life I know, back to freedom.
All I have to do is fuck him first.
"I…" My voice cracks.
I clear my throat and try again. "You're serious? One job and you let me go."
"I don't make promises I can't keep."
His eyes are so dark they're almost black, pupils blown wide in the low light of the room.
"Sleep with me. Help me finish this. Then you walk out that door and I never touch you again."
His hips shift forward, and I feel how hard he is pressed against my thigh.
A jolt runs through me and makes my legs feel weak.
My mouth goes dry.
This man is dangerous.
He's brutal and cold and everything my mother taught me to run from.
But my body doesn't care about any of that.
My body only knows the way his hand feels on my skin, the rough edge in his voice, the way he's looking at me now as though I'm the only thing in the world that can make his cock stand at attention.
"What if I say no?" I ask, hating how breathless I sound.
There's always an alternative too, a way to get what you want when you don't like the first set of conditions.
It's how I get things I want—negotiation.
I learned how to do it when I was only seven years old and my mother wanted me to go to bed on time.
I'd find the other options and apply gentle pressure until I got what I wanted.
This is no different.
It's the skill for which he, himself, is wanting me.
"Then you sleep in the guest bed."
His thumb drags across my lower lip, curling it downward slightly before letting it spring back up.
