Bound (Forbidden Series - Book 1) (16 page)

             
She pulled out another dress and he sat forward. “That one,” he said before Jewell even had a chance to try it on.

             
“Let’s see how it looks,” the woman said in a warning tone as the young man slid it over Jewell’s head.

             
The material was similar to a few she’d already tried on, but the fit was better, even without any tailoring. It dipped low in front and back and ended high on her thighs, but it almost felt like she was wearing nothing at all, it was so light.

             
“Yes, that’s the one.”

             
The boy helped Jewell out of the dress, and she stood there with her arms crossed, trying to protect her naked body from their view, even though they’d all been staring at her shamelessly for the past hour.

             
“I’ll have the dress ready by Friday morning,” the woman said before making a quick exit.

             
Jewell finally breathed. She moved over to her discarded clothes and gathered them to go upstairs.

             
“Meet me in my room.”

             
She didn’t even bother looking at him as she moved to the staircase. This day just wasn’t ever going to end. The really depressing part of it all was that although she knew she was his sex toy, and she knew he had no respect for her, she also knew she would enjoy their lovemaking.

             
But she assured herself that each time it was finished, she would also hate him that much more.

              “Oooh, that’s going to leave a mark!”

             
Jewell spewed out water as she pulled herself back up on the wakeboard and sent a glare straight to Tyler, who was so busy laughing as he looked back at her that she hoped he choked on his own tongue.

             
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine,” she snapped, determined to master this ridiculous sport.

             
“I wasn’t worried,” Tyler assured her as he waited until she was holding the rope in her hands and her feet were firmly planted back on the wakeboard. He held up his hand and Blake put the boat back into full throttle as she struggled to get up on her feet.

             
They were at the lake, and had been there for the past three hours. She hadn’t spoken a single word to Blake since they’d left his apartment, and she’d be more than pleased to continue not speaking to him for the next four nights, not after what an absolute ass he’d been to her that morning.

             
He was the one who had asked her why she was doing this job, and then he’d treated her horribly when she’d spoken the truth. Let him think she was a liar. The alternative was having him know about Justin and telling the whole story to Ms. Beaumont. That wasn’t an option. She couldn’t believe she’d had such a weak moment as to open up to him.

             
What had he done in the past few days to prove to her that she could trust him? Absolutely nothing. She’d been a fool, but it wouldn’t happen again. At least she didn’t have to be alone with him right now — and maybe he’d even planned this outing because he, too, didn’t want to be alone with her. Anyway, she actually enjoyed Tyler’s company. Granted, she wasn’t as happy being around Byron. He was just as stern and bitter as Blake, so they weren’t the best people to hang out with on a hot, sunny day on the lake.

             
Before she could move on to another thought, she felt herself go under again. Water immediately flooded into her open mouth and panicked her for a moment.

             
When she came back up, coughing out water and taking in much-needed oxygen, she decided she was finished with this so-called sport. Weren’t sports supposed to be fun? Taking her feet out of the boots on the wakeboard, she waited for the fancy black boat to circle back around to her, and then swam toward it.

             
“Are you giving up already, gorgeous?” Tyler asked as he held out a hand to help her up.

             
“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk in the morning. I’m done,” she almost gasped, irritated that she was so out of breath, she collapsed onto one of the benches in the back of the boat.

             
“You aren’t giving yourself enough credit. You got up and lasted a while,” Tyler told her, beaming a proud smile her way and actually bringing a glow to her cheeks.

             
Blake approached the two of them. “Would you quit flirting with my girl?” he said gruffly.

             
“Oh, come on, Blake. I like Jewell. She’s a real trouper,” Tyler told him. Winking at his brother, he sat down at Jewell’s feet, lifted them into his lap, and began to knead the tender flesh on the soles and around the arches. She moaned appreciatively.

             
“Get your hands off her,” Blake growled, and he pushed his brother away.

             
Jewell wanted to protest the interruption of her foot rub, but with the thunderclouds obvious in Blake’s eyes, she decided she was much better off remaining silent.

             
“You’re such a stick in the mud,” Tyler said with a gigantic grin. “All right, Byron, looks like Blake’s out for driving. You’re at the helm now. Give her hell.” He grabbed his board and jumped into the water.

             
Blake still didn’t say anything directly to Jewell as they raced around the lake, but he also didn’t move away, making Jewell shift involuntarily while he sat there beside her, his hand on her leg, obviously staking his claim in front of his brothers.

             
She didn’t see why he would even bother. He’d made it clear that he had no particular fondness for her, and certainly no respect.

             
“Are you going to continue to give me the silent treatment the rest of the day?” he finally asked, startling her.

             
“I’m just minding my own business, Blake.” She knew that if she didn’t reply, he could and would continue to push her.

             
“I don’t like it, Jewell, so stop.”

             
“Oh well, what should we talk about? We are civilized people, after all,” she remarked with more than just a hint of sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

             
He leaned in close, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I won’t tolerate you speaking to me this way, especially in front of my brothers.”

             
“I’m surprised you don’t just tell them that I’m your personal prostitute, and that our time is almost over, that they can have a turn next if they wait until Monday.” Where was this cattiness coming from? Jewell hadn’t a clue, but she suspected she’d come to regret it. And when he leaned toward her, rage burning in his eyes, she knew she would. And soon.

             
“They already know,” he said, making her humiliation complete before he continued speaking. “Is that what you want, Jewell? Do you want to be bedded by all three of us? Right now? Want me to find a nice quiet little alcove? Or wait, you like the public stuff, don’t you? Why don’t I just find a place where all the boats are tied together and you can make your rounds? Don’t worry, doll — I know you expect to be paid extra for taking on multiple partners. Not a problem.”

             
The sneer on his face made her want to slap him. Oh how she would love to wipe away his arrogance, if only for a single second.

             
“I’m not the whore you make me into,” she found herself saying, her throat tight.

             
“Then quit making comments that make you seem like one,” he fired back. “You’re your own
sales
woman, you know.”

             
“Why don’t we just go back to not speaking? You are so much more pleasant that way.”

             
Before she could say anything else, he pulled her up and straddled her over his lap. “Don’t even think for one minute that because I allow you to speak your mind, I give a damn about your opinion,” he said before crushing his mouth punishingly against hers.

             
When the boat stopped, Tyler climbed back on board and gave a catcall. Blake immediately pulled away, and she could still see the rage he’d been directing at her flashing in his silver depths.

             
She had to fight the urge to cry, but there was no way she was doing that again. She’d shed enough tears in the last six months to last her a lifetime, and Blake Knight was certainly not worth wasting any of her precious emotions on.

             
He released her and stood. “I’m done. Let’s go back in,” he said to Byron, who was now captain of the boat.

             
Everyone fell silent. The boat turned, and Jewell was relieved when they came closer to the docks. The sooner this horrible day ended, the better off she would be. Then she’d be tied to Blake for only three more nights.

             
Tyler gave her a questioning look, but even he said nothing. And now they were at the docks, and Blake was leading her up the ramp and straight to his car.

             
Their night seemed destined to be less than pleasant. When he sent her to her room and didn’t even try to bring her to his bed or join her in hers, she was relieved, or she thought she was.

             
But as she gazed at the clock next to her bed and sleep didn’t easily find her, she felt nothing but despair. She told herself it was because she was counting the endless hours until her release from this nightmare, and freedom from Blake Knight was still so far away.

              Ticktock, ticktock, the time was counting down.

             
Barely able to climb from her bed, her muscles were so sore, Jewell somehow managed to stumble into her bathroom. Though he’d told her yesterday that he was taking the rest of the week off , she hoped that after their tiff Blake would be at work the entire day and that she could cross one more day with him off her calendar.

             
After showering, she made her way painfully down the stairs and went straight to the coffeepot. The apartment was quiet and she was relieved to realize she was alone. He was his own boss, so he could take any day off he wanted — like yesterday — and she simply couldn’t predict what the man might decide to do next. It threw her too far off balance for her comfort. But today he must have gone to his headquarters, and she’d be free at least until the evening.

             
As she finished her first cup of coffee, she heard the familiar ding of her phone — the darn thing was sitting on the kitchen counter — and she grimaced.

             
She needed just five more minutes, maybe one hour, to wake up and get her armor in place before speaking to Blake. Please, she begged, please… But when it dinged again almost immediately, she knew that to avoid whatever he had to say would be foolish. And it would be texting, nothing more.

             
But she was still going to assert some shred of independence. She went over to the coffeepot first, filled her cup, and added a nice splash of cream to it before taking a sip. The third message came in and she finally forced herself to go over to her phone.

             
Good morning, Jewell, I hope you slept well.

             
That message confused her. He’d been such a jackass the day before; why would he send something civilized like that? It made no sense to her. Maybe the man was bipolar. Or maybe he even suffered from multiple personality disorder. That wouldn’t surprise her in the least.

             
Be ready in one hour. I’ll be picking you up.

             
Her stomach tightened. She didn’t want to spend the day with him. It was going to be awkward and unpleasant, and she would just end up feeling bad about herself again. It could be a lot worse, though. She had to remind herself of the stories she’d heard from the other escorts. At least she wasn’t being tied up to things and flogged, or being forced to have sicko sex in front of an audience.

             
Get over your tantrum, Jewell, and get ready… Now!

             
Tantrum? What freaking universe did he inhabit? Or did he own a special cyber helmet that made every jerky thing he did look and smell like roses?

             
Fine!
Jewell punched in each of those letters in her one-word response with no little savagery, and dropped the phone on the counter, delighting when it bounced. She took her coffee cup with her back up the stairs and walked into her closet to find clothes. She had no idea what he was planning and didn’t know how to dress, so she chose a skirt that came halfway down her thighs, and a tank top that revealed her back but at least didn’t show most of her breasts. She wouldn’t make it into a “sideboob” photo gallery.

             
Forty-five minutes later, she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock on the front door, and she rolled her eyes. It wouldn’t take long for her to discover what was coming up next in this weeklong adventure with Blake.

             
“Hello, Jewell. You look lovely today, but you always do.”

             
She stood there dumbfounded. He was behaving so differently than he normally did when he was around her. Was this a trick? She had no clue what to think right now.

             
He smiled as if knowing he was confusing her, and approached her with the confidence she’d come to expect from him. “When a person says hello and offers a compliment, the correct response is usually to offer a greeting in return.”

             
Then he pulled her into his arms and, before she was able to say a word, he kissed her. It wasn’t a greedy assault on her mouth, but a soft, drugging kiss that made her legs tremble in weakness. When he moved back and looked into her eyes, she found she was still too stunned to speak. It had now been an uncomfortable, silent couple of minutes, and she really felt stupid.

             
“We’re going out today for a walk,” he said, and released her to wobble on her own as he grabbed her light jacket, which was hanging on the back of the chair. She still hadn’t said a word as he helped her slip it on.

             
Finally, she found her voice. “What is going on?”

             
“Nothing. I told you I was taking the week off, but I needed to go in for a few hours to take care of things. I’ve finished and now I want to stretch my legs,” he said, and he led her out the front door.

             
“It’s not much of a week off if you still go in to the offices,” she pointed out.

             
“I’m the owner. There are certain things that only my brothers or I can do.”

             
She was surprised he was even bothering to explain any of this to her. She was surprised by his attitude change altogether. He was almost treating her like a human being instead of his plaything. But she’d do best to remember this wasn’t typical.

             
They made their way outside, where his driver, Max, was waiting. Jewell said nothing as he helped her into the backseat and then joined her. They drove for several hours, chatting about nothing of importance, and she finally found herself relaxing in his presence. She didn’t even care where they were going. He’d said a walk, but so far the only walking they’d done had been from the elevator to the car.

             
When the driver stopped, then quickly came around and opened her door, she was surprised to find herself at a winery and vineyard.

             
“We’re going to a fundraiser tomorrow night, as you know. I thought I would give you a sampling of good wines while we stretched our legs.”

             
Blake obviously thought she was a newbie to any wine that needed a corkscrew to open. But she wasn’t going to get all huffy about it. He was pretty much right.

             
And soon the two of them moved through the vineyard, and they stopped at several stations to taste the local wines associated with each variety of grape being grown, some of which left a sour taste in her mouth, and some of which she wanted much more of.

             
After an hour, he led her to a private balcony off the main lodge restaurant, where a table was already set with wineglasses; food arrived not long thereafter.

             
“I’ve spent some time mulling over what you said yesterday, Jewell, and I think I jumped too quickly to an unfavorable conclusion.”

             
Her heart started thundering. Did he believe her? She was too fearful to even voice the question.

             
His next words made her glad she hadn’t.

             
“Though I don’t believe your story, I do believe that there’s a story you aren’t sharing with me. I would like to know what it is,” he said levelly.

             
She’d had so many tastes of wine — she really should have spit them out like the experts! — that she had to fight past the fog her brain was in. Sure, the glasses had been small and they were far from full, but she must have had the equivalent of four to six full glasses. She really needed to eat some of the food before her if she wanted to come close to keeping up with him.

             
“I thought you told me you didn’t care about my story, Blake.”

             
“I shouldn’t care in the least, Jewell, but oddly enough, I find myself wanting to know more about you.”

             
“Why? Our time is nearly up — as if I need to remind you of that again. There’s nothing else you need to know about me.” She picked up a piece of bread and began eating it, hoping it would soak up some of the alcohol she’d already downed. She didn’t dare touch the wineglass in front of her.

             
“Just because our time is almost up doesn’t mean we can’t have a conversation. Sunday hasn’t arrived yet.”

             
“Well, I just want to get through the next few days,” she told him. Those words were truer than any other she’d spoken to him.

             
His smile evaporated and he looked at her intently. “I am trying to be pleasant. I don’t appreciate it that you’re not putting in the effort to do the same.”

             
“You can’t just flip a switch all of a sudden and expect me to pour out my heart to you. It was only a few days ago that you told me to do my job and not to even think of feeling anything about you.”

             
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind about that,” he said.

             
She looked at him in utter horror. That had to be sarcasm; it couldn’t be anything else.

             
His eyes turned a bit colder after seeing her response, but otherwise showed no emotion. “So you would rather I treat you as nothing but an object, something I’ve bought — no, rented?”

             
“Yes, I do. That would be best for both of us.”

             
“Fine, Jewell. You want that. You have it,” he said, and a dangerous gleam appeared in his eyes.

             
Their lunch was forgotten. Blake stood and held out a hand, not as a courtesy but as a command. Her stomach dipped. But she took his hand, and when she did, she swayed on her feet. Where was he going to lead her?

             
When they ended up in a small basement room in the large house overlooking the winery, she felt panic coming on. And with reason.

             
“Strip for me, Jewell. That’s what you’re so good at.”

             
The color drained from her face. She was a prostitute. It was for the best that he was reminding her of that fact. Trying to erase all thoughts, all emotions, to become nothing but a robot, a sex toy, she began taking off her clothes. That only dim lanterns lit the room was of small consolation.

             
By the time they left, Blake had stripped another piece of her soul away.