The heroine realizes she’s not meant for the hero’s world… but then he kisses her again and those lines start to blur and once again, she’s left confused.
They should have hot kinky sex.
They dabble with BDSM and she realizes that being submissive calms her nervous system and helps her anxiety.
More sex? He controls her orgasms…
They go to a sex club.
34
GRACE
The dress I chose clings to my skin, and I feel mildly uncomfortable in it, but I wanted to looksexy.Like the girls who go to places like Haven. It has thin straps, a deep V-neck that shows more cleavage than I'm used to, and a hem that stops mid-thigh.Easy to take off, Asher said, and this one should pull right over my head in one go. No zippers or snaps. My stomach flutters as I envision him ridding me of the material.
Who cares what the dress looks like if the intention is for it to end up on the floor?
I study myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. Hair loose in waves, makeup subtle but polished, skin glowing from weeks of proper sleep and regular meals. The anxious girl who showed up at Asher's office in January feels like a stranger now.
Asher appears, filling the doorway in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to expose those forearms that make my mouth go dry. His gaze travels over me, slow and deliberate, heat flaring in his steel eyes.
"Perfect." His voice drops an octave. "Turn around."
I spin, the dress swishing against my thighs. His hand finds my waist, pulling me back against his chest. Lips brush my neck, just below my ear.
"You look good enough to devour." His teeth graze my skin. "I want to bend you over and fuck you right now. Was that your intention when you picked this skimpy little thing?"
I swallow. "Maybe."
"Come on, Sugar. Wallace is waiting." He kisses my temple before leading me to the car.
The drive to Haven feels longer than it should. Asher's thumb traces circles on my palm, grounding me, but anxiety creeps in with every block we pass. What if Candace sees us? She fired me. She knows I'm not one ofthem. I'm not a member who belongs there.
Candace will take one look at me hanging on Asher's arm and see right through this facade. The broke waitress she fired, now clinging to a billionaire's sleeve. Heat crawls up my neck because part of her judgment would be true. The money is the reason I agreed to this arrangement with him.
Wallace pulls up to the unmarked warehouse. No sign, no indication of what lies inside. Just exposed brick and a single door with a keypad.
Asher helps me out, his hand settling on my lower back as we approach. He punches in a code, the lock clicking open.
"Breathe." His lips caress my ear. "You're with me."
