The Billion Dollar Contract: The Executive Collection (48 page)

With one hand holding her torso up, Ethan pushed her toward the bed again, her ass in the air. She wasn’t even surprised – but certainly alighted with arousal – when he briskly slapped one of the cheeks. “What a naughty girl you’ve been. Spending all of my money.”

He said it with a forced humor.
So he originally meant something else.
Ethan’s habit of one-eighty changes in conversation lately unnerved Jasmine. Something boiled in the back of his mind, waiting to come out to her, but for some reason he was too proud to say what it was. So he said those things, probably hoping that Jasmine wouldn’t notice.
I always do.

Still, this was an escape for him. A scenario for him to exert control in. Jasmine just reaped whatever benefits she could.
So why do I want to make him talk about the other thing?
Because she cared? Because she… loved him?

“Last I checked, you have a lot of money to spend.”

Another playful slap to her rump. He didn’t do it often, but when Ethan got started with the spanking Jasmine knew she was about to have a wild ride in one position or another.
God, here I am, slobbering over sex while he stews about something.
Wouldn’t be the first time.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that’s all you’re using me for.”

Ah, what an astute man. Not that Jasmine was
only
using him for his money.
I kind of like you, asshole.
“I would never, sir.” She didn’t know if she was into the scenario or naturally on the defensive.

Ethan stepped off the bed and coaxed Jasmine to follow him, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood of the hotel room floor thanks to a cramp in her leg. If she made a fool of herself in front of Ethan, he never let on. “Just to be on the safe side, I better make sure I get my money’s worth.”

Before she could gasp in offended shock, Jasmine’s hands were behind her back, tied together by the silk accessory. Helpless in his arms, she could only hiss between her teeth when he embraced her from behind and pinched one of her exposed nipples.
Your money’s worth, huh?
She knew what that meant as she was herded to the Victorian sofa in the center of the hotel room and bent over it, the back of the sofa maintaining her precarious balance as she stood on her tiptoes and kept her shoulders up. “Holy…!” The third spank of the night was the roughest, landing right on her flesh before those fingers yanked on her lingerie and left them to catch around her spread legs. “Shit!”

She didn’t know exactly how much she meant that until Ethan knelt down and kissed the vulnerable space between her thighs. His tongue soon followed, parting her open and making her moan into the open air. Without a care Jasmine tried to pry her hands apart, but they remained firmly together beneath Ethan’s knot. Jasmine’s fingers twisted together, her mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as Ethan stood and slipped his middle finger into her.

“At least there’s that,” he said, referring to how wet she was already.
You think it takes much around you?
Jasmine wanted to say something snippy, but the sensation of his fingers pushing into her made her lose the strength in her shoulders. She slumped down with a groan in her throat. “As long as we have an understanding, my flower. My money for
this.
”

One final spank and she was done. Jasmine whimpered in desire, pulling herself up –
willing
her damn self up. She was glad, oh so glad, when Ethan pushed the head of his once again erect cock into her.

“Say it.”

The collar was tight around her throat at that angle. “Fuck me,” she said, softly. He pulled out, then teased her, eliciting a groan of frustration that shook the expensive sofa. “Please…”

Her cry as he yanked on her hair was loud enough to alert someone outside of the room. “You know what kind of woman asks for that?”

Fear, for the first time in many weeks, crept across Jasmine’s skin.
No, don’t say it…
Not that word. Not that biting, terrible word that made her want to throw up. Not even with the collar on was it acceptable. “What kind of woman?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

The word rumbled through the both of them, awakening her, luring him into her, and bringing them together in that heated moment. “Mine.”

Relief as powerful as her need for him brought her back to her senses.

He was in her, pulling her hips, tugging her hair, and digging his nails into her tender flesh. Jasmine tried to meet his thrusts but realized that she was meant to just take it
,
his lust burrowing into her and claiming her for the night.
Because I’m just a mistress.
Shame danced with her lust as she delighted in every stroke to her skin, thrust to her center, and tug against her head. She shouldn’t want to be used like this. She shouldn’t want Ethan to imply she was what she was as he fucked her in a debasing position, as he spanked her for spending his money, as he…
Stop. Stop thinking.
It was a role-play. A scene. The collar was on and Jasmine’s goal was to ride it out with as much pleasure to gain as possible.

So when he held himself inside her, warmth spreading through her body, Jasmine succumbed to a soothing orgasm that filled her with more than just endorphins.

Ethan took his time pulling out of her and undoing her binds. Jasmine lowered her sore arms and stretched them, her lips begging him to hold her in at least one comforting embrace – which he did, snapping the collar off her neck so he could kiss the skin beneath.

32

One of the most dangerous things that could happen was Jasmine overthinking. Something she was notorious for when she felt she had been wronged.

There was a long list of examples in her life. When she was a child, she often resented her parents’ lifestyle because it made things difficult for her at school. Sure, there were lots of hippies in her hometown. It was known as a sort of haven for them. But Mr. and Mrs. Bliss weren’t just
ordinary
hippies. They took veganism to the extreme by not allowing Jasmine to even eat the cookies a friend brought over one day after school because they had milk and eggs in them. Granted, over the years they became much more relaxed, but Jasmine never forgot the embarrassment she felt when a cookie was yanked out of her hand.
My parents didn’t make me be vegan or vegetarian… until it came to junk food.
Convenient.

Then there was the time her best friend in eighth grade started hanging out with another girl. At first Jasmine thought nothing of it until this friend no longer wanted to hang out with her because something about summer camps and band practice.
Clearly she wanted to end it, right?
Jasmine never got a straight answer out of her ex-friend.

The time she was fired after a public argument about the length of her dress. The time an ex-boyfriend forgot her birthday. The time Blackbeard shat on her kitchen floor after she went away for a weekend.
Men.

Those seemed like nothing compared to what she experienced now. Jasmine lay in bed – the most dangerous time, as her mind ran a mile a minute – thinking over the trip to Portland she just returned from. Not just Portland. Her months with Ethan so far. How her emotions had run the gamut of worried, indifferent, angry, and in love. The sex was great. The strings that came with it? Not so much.

So the collar told her when Ethan wanted to role-play. She wasn’t supposed to take any of that seriously. Except she couldn’t do anything
but,
especially after what he said in Portland. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He knew she was just using him for his money.
I’m not!
She swore she wasn’t, and he swore he wasn’t just using her for sex.

They would never believe the other. Especially when they refused to talk!

But Jasmine didn’t talk because Ethan shut down more often than not. The word love was on his lips every time they had sex, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Jasmine didn’t care if his heart had been broken before. Her heart was being broken
now.

She went to work the next morning looking for signs. Once she had that feeling of being affronted in her soul, it stuck for a long time. And the signs were everywhere
.
Ethan was standoffish. He paid her so little mind as she went about her day that Jasmine couldn’t help but take it personally. The only time he talked to her was to say her ass was great in her dress.

Apparently she looked upset enough that Nadia asked her out to lunch. Somewhere besides the break room or the cafeteria downstairs. A dark, private restaurant at the end of the block where nobody knew them and Jasmine could spill her heart.

It was cathartic telling her everything that was wrong with a smug asshole like Ethan Cole. Because that’s what he was that day. Every day. The only nice things Jasmine had to say was about his prowess in bed. Not that she was sharing that kind of information that day.

Nadia had no advice to give. She listened with rapt attention, but all she could do was hold her hands up in the air and say, “That is rough. But… only a few more weeks I suppose. Then you have the money.”

The money. “Yes. And then he can play with some other dumbass girl’s heart.”

“You’re not a dumbass.”

“Aren’t I though? What did I think was going to happen? Look at this thing!” Jasmine slapped the collar on the table between them. “This is what he really thinks of me.”

“I doubt he really thinks that. You know, for an otherwise eloquent man, he’s not good at expressing himself.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“That is true.”

Jasmine didn’t feel any better when they went back to work. She sulked at her desk, wishing she were anywhere else. At home. Back with her parents. Anywhere but near Ethan Cole.

He asked her out that night. Jasmine was fed up enough to not care by that point.

Ethan had takeout delivered to his penthouse, scheduled to arrive before they did. The deliveryman was late, however, leaving Ethan to grumble about how hungry he was while Jasmine sat listlessly on his couch.

When dinner did arrive, she didn’t have the stomach for it. The TV played in the background, Ethan flipping between Bloomberg and HBO. Tits or titheads in the business world, neither appealed to Jasmine as she stared at her Thai food cooling on the porcelain plate.

There was no way Ethan had just invited her over for dinner. Yet her two hours were almost up. Jasmine fully intended to tell him to piss off for the night if he asked her to stay past seven. She would take the bus home and binge on ice cream while the cat became irate that he didn’t get any.

Ten minutes to seven, Ethan put a hand on her shoulder.
Here it comes. Blowjob in ten minutes. Now is your time to shine, girl.
“Want to stay and watch a movie? The Hobbit is on. You know, more Legolas faces.”

Damnit, she smiled. Why did she smile?

“Or we could play video games. I bought that thing you had at your place. Might need help setting it up…”

No, no, he needed to stop this bullshit. Appealing to the good feelings she had that night he came over to her place. This was how Jasmine kept falling into his trap. His sweet, honey-lined trap. He would cuddle her, kiss her, and make love to her with enough passion to tip her over the edge of falling in love with him all over again. It wasn’t fair. Surely she didn’t do the same thing to him.

“I don’t know. I was thinking of heading home.”

“Ah.”

Just an ah. Ethan didn’t try to convince her to stay, to be with him for the night even if it was just for spooning instead of forking.
So he doesn’t care that much.
That’s what Jasmine had convinced herself, and that was what she was sticking to. The only way Ethan could change her outlook was if he said…

If he said what he kept locked up inside of him.

“Ethan,” Jasmine said, standing from her chair and facing him. His demeanor went from unperturbed to concerned in less than a second.
Good. I’m giving off that air.
“Do you love me?”

The silence in the penthouse was almost deafening. Jasmine was not immune to it.
Bastard.
She thought it the moment she realized that he wasn’t going to answer.

“I’m sorry. Why are you asking me that? Why now?”

Jasmine’s hand clenched around the back of her chair. “Because I need to know. I need to know if you love me.”