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RULE #3: ALWAYS DO AS YOU’RE TOLD—ESPECIALLY WHEN IT INVOLVES GETTING ON YOUR KNEES FOR A HOT MILLIONAIRE DADDY.
I zone out while shoveling ice cream into my mouth, thinking about the way he touched my cheek, how strangely gratifying it felt when he said that one word: lovely. He didn’t call me pretty or say you look nice. This was different. It was…approval.
And suddenly, there is no hesitation. The words just travel effortlessly across the table straight from his lips to my ears. “Ms. Underwood, you looked exquisite on your knees.”
RULE #6: AVOID MALLS FOR THE RISK OF RUNNING INTO YOUR EX WHILE HOLDING BAGS OF LINGERIE YOU FANTASIZE WEARING FOR HIS DAD.
If this week has proven anything to me, it’s that I need to watch myself around this girl. She’s too perfect to ignore and too forbidden to be mine.
“You’re such a good girl, Charlotte.”
My shoulders relax, seeming to melt down at my sides as I gaze up at him, those beautiful words washing over me like warm water. Suddenly, I’m all gooey and compliant, like that one little phrase put me in a trance. He could literally do anything to me in this state.
And since I would do just about anything for his praise, that’s exactly what I do.
“You are so fucking beautiful. Make yourself come, baby.”
You made me very proud today. And you are more than enough. You are perfect.
But the way Emerson makes me feel. The way I feel about him. How my heart seems to almost expand in his presence, the way I like myself more when I’m around him. How I want to be the only girl in the world he ever sets eyes on again.
I’m falling hard for Emerson Grant. I’m so fucked.
“I’ll fill out that form for you if you want, but I don’t need to. You want me to tell you that I want to taste you, Charlotte? Because I do. I want to touch you, tease you, fuck you, bend you over my knee and turn that pretty little backside red. There’s not a thing on that list I don’t want to do with you, so you can put the paper and pen away, little girl. Every single thing would get a five from me.”
“Because I didn’t expect you to be so perfect. I had no idea keeping my hands off you would be this hard. And then I walked in that day and found you on your knees…” He squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against mine. “Jesus Christ, Charlotte. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Yes, I do. Because I love the way I feel when I’m with you. I see the way you want me, how much you adore me. How many people really get to feel that with someone? Why would I ever deny myself something like that?”
“I want whatever I can get,” I reply. “I want you.”
Dear God, please let this be the only man I fuck for the rest of my life because there’s not a chance in hell anyone else could ever top that.
Because now I only see him as mine. My…something. I don’t know. More than my boss, but not just my lover. My sir
“You’re perfect.” Then he pulls away and stares at me sternly, his voice taking on a darker, edgier tone. “Now, stop arguing with me.”
“I’m going to make you forget every bad thing you’ve ever said about yourself. And if I catch you saying anything self-deprecating, you’ll be punished. Understand?”
If I were a smart man, I’d let someone else win Charlotte tonight. I should let him impress her with his money or promises of sex, and if she decides she’d rather be with someone who could love her for real, I should let her go.
But even I know, that’s impossible now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go.
With Emerson, I don’t feel so inferior. Somehow, this perfect, amazing man makes me feel worthy, and my heart explodes in my chest every time I think about it.
“I’m addicted to you,” he groans while fucking me. “You were made for me, Charlotte. You’re mine, and I never want to let you go. Do you understand me? I’d fuck you forever if I could.”
“I wish you could,” I cry. Looking up into his eyes, I whisper, “I was made for you.”
“I was never mad at you, Charlotte. I just wish you could see what I see.”
I feel like I’m his, and Emerson feels like mine. I’ve managed to block out any and all thoughts of forever with him and what that would look like because we made a deal two weeks ago when this started that no one could find out. That we would take whatever we could get.
I realize at this moment just how much I love him, how much I’ve changed since he started loving me, and how everything we’ve fought about until this moment is trivial. It becomes strikingly clear in this moment—Emerson means everything to me.
“I love you, Charlie,” he whispers into my mouth, sealing his words with a languid kiss. And I bite onto his bottom lip, making him feel the intensity that’s boiling inside me.
“I love you too.”
And it’s all that needs to be said between us. No more dirty secrets or stolen moments, just this raw expression of everything we’ve felt over the last three months. Leaving the clothes we shed on the stairs, he carries me to his bed and makes good on his promise to take his time with me, knowing he finally has all the time in the world.
