“Kev, how many times do I have to remind you to call me Hailee?” I tease, though my mock anger is met with a chuckle. We’ve done this dance many times. “Send him up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.
I drag the towel from my head, letting my long hair fall down my back before gathering it up into a messy bun and securing it with a claw clip. I quickly dry off my body, hanging both wet towels in the bathroom just as the elevator dings. I slip into a floor-length linen dress, its light fabric flowing effortlessly around me, and head downstairs to the foyer. As the elevator doors open, I’m greeted by the sight of Jacob with a charming smile on his face.
“Hey, nice to see you again.” I smile brightly.
“Hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I was in the area.” He casually gestures down his body. He’s wearing board shorts and a tank top, his impressive toned and tanned arms on display. He runs a hand through his wet hair, and his flip-flops are covered in sand.
“How’s the swell?” I welcome him inside.
“Amazing. Do you surf?”
“No, but I’d like to learn one day. Come in,” I reply as I lead the way into the living room. “Would you like some iced tea? I was making some anyway.”
“Yeah, that would be great, thank you.” He runs a hand through his wet hair again.
Leaving Jacob to settle on one of the couches facing the ocean, I make my way into the kitchen and grab the pitcher from the fridge. I fill two glasses with iced tea, the clinking sound of ice cubes against the glass echoing the nagging feeling in my gut. With each pour, I take deep breaths, centering myself before returning to face Jacob.What is he doing here? He barely knows me.
“Sorry, Dameon isn’t here at the moment, but he should be back in an hour or so if you want to wait?” I say as I offer him a glass of iced tea. Our fingers brush lightly, and that nagging feeling in my gut ramps up a notch. I’m suddenly all too aware of my nakedness beneath my thin linen dress. With a forced smile plastered on my lips, I turn toward the opposite couch, but before I can retreat, Jacob’s hand darts out, gripping my wrist.
“I’m actually here to talk to you, Hailee. Please, sit with me.” He nods toward the spot beside him on the couch. I search his eyes for any hint of malice, but they remain frustratingly blank. His hold on my wrist remains light, and I could easily shrug him off, so I ignore my instincts and reluctantly sink down beside him. His lips curl into an unsettling smile.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” I ask, taking a sip of my iced tea to break free from his hold.
“Are you happy? With Dameon?”
“Yes…” I respond slowly. “What’s going on, Jacob?”
“Because I can offer you a better deal. Whatever he’s offering you, I’ll double it.” His words drip with confidence.
“Oh, um, that’s very generous of you, but I’m not interested.” I rub the back of my neck and fiddle with the claw clip in my hair.
“Why not? You’re a hooker, the highest bidder always wins.” He shrugs with arrogant certainty.
Okay, time for this asshole to leave… now.
“Listen, Jacob, I think—”
“I lost a bet because of you.” His voice drops with resentment, and his sudden change in demeanor makes my heart pick up pace.
“What are you talking about?”
“I lost my penthouse in Paris. Because he cheated.” He leans forward and puts his iced tea on the coffee table with a loud clank.
“I don’t understand.”
“And here’s the thing, Hailee, I don’t lose. Ever.” The intent is clear in his eyes, and my gut screams at me to move, to run. I swiftly rise from the couch, but before I can make a move, his hand shoots out and grips my wrist, tighter this time. The glass slips from my hand, shattering as it crashes to the floor, iced tea splashing over our legs. In one swift move, he yanks me down onto the couch, his body looming over mine as he uses his weight to pin me underneath him. Shock and fear render me momentarily speechless. It takes a second to gather my wits, then a surge of adrenaline floods my veins.
“Get the fuck off me,” I snarl, my voice trembling with anger as I push hard against his chest.
“You owe me. One fuck doesn’t even come close to making up for my penthouse, but you’re sure as hell gonna try.” He secures my wrists above my head, pinning them together in an iron grip with one hand. His other hand grasps my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin. Panic surges through me but I can also feel a fierce determination igniting deep down, driving me to fight against him with every ounce of strength I possess.
“Time to pay up,” he spits out. His eyes are narrowed into dangerous slits, like a coiled snake, deadly and ready to strike. An anger that I didn’t know I possessed surges within me like a raging inferno, blazing beneath the surface, ready to explode. I buck and arch my back in a desperate attempt to free myself from his hold.
“Why are you fighting this? Take it like the whore you are.” He seems perplexed by my resistance, which only fuels the flames of my fury. The audacity of his insults, the sheer contempt in his tone, it’s almost too much to bear. My vision blurs with rage.
He gropes my breast before shifting his weight to free his cock from his shorts. I see my opening, and I take it. In a quick and calculated motion, I lift my knee with all the force I can muster, aiming squarely for his balls. The impact is immediate and gratifying.
