this was — whatever this was — something that she’d even want.
She took a gulp of her water,
trying to get some moisture back in her mouth — all the wetness in her body
seemed to have migrated to her pussy.
“Well?”
“I don’t want you to think that I‘m
just going to roll over and do whatever you say. I — I’m not that way. I’m not
some doormat.”
“What makes you think doing what
you’re told makes you a doormat?”
“I know,” she said, smiling
ruefully. “It’s not what it’s supposed to be right? Just a role to play? I
don’t think I can do that.”
“It wouldn’t be a role with me,
Ashley.” He set his wine glass down, tightening his grip on her hand. “I don’t
play games. Ever.”
With a gulp, she met his gaze. His
steel eyes held not a hint of warmth in them. To a normal woman that would be
unsettling, frightening even. It made her pussy drip.
You are one messed up chick,
Ashley. You should not be doing this.
“Parker.”
He frowned for the first time. She
didn’t like that frown one bit, though the exact reason why eluded her.
“Sir … what do you want? What am I
supposed to do?”
She knew she needed to listen to
that small quiet voice. The one telling her to retrieve her hand and walk out
the door. To do anything else was insane. She knew this.
But she didn’t do it. This was that
chance to see if she could still be who she’d dreamt of being. The person she
wanted to be with Terry — at least at the beginning. Maybe Parker was the one?
She thought about the phone conversation with Tara, her boyfriend Brian in the
room with her. How Ashley’s heart had ached for the loss of someone to feel
that closeness with. A soul to share her life with, a companion on her journey.
For the first time in a very long time, she felt … lonely.
Be careful what you wish for,
Miss Lonely Heart.
“Ashley, I want to see if you’ll be
a good girl, and obey me. So far, you’ve mostly exceeded my expectations.”
Her eyes widened. “I have?”
Parker’s beautiful smile banished
the memory of his dark frown. “You showed up didn’t you? And wearing that
bewitching dress, no less. I can see why any man of yours might feel …
threatened.”
“That’s the kind of possessive shit
I’m trying to get away from. I hate jealousy.”
He frowned again, and lay her hand
on the table, covering it in his. Possessive.
“First, watch your language.
Second, a possession is just what you’d be, if you were mine. My most treasured
one, but a possession nonetheless. I need you to be clear on this.”
She licked her lips, reaching for
her water glass once more.
“Maybe this won’t work then.” She
tried to pull her hand back. but he pressed down on it, stilling her.
“I think that bothers you a lot
less than you’re letting on. Maybe you feel like you have to say that? Not be a
‘doormat’, as you say?”
“I’m serious. I can’t be someone’s possession .”
She needed to calm her beating heart, slow her breathing. His words had
agitated her, but that didn’t stop moisture from slickening her clenching
pussy. She felt sure any minute she’d feel a trickle down her thigh.
“Can’t you?” He leaned closer. “Does
the thought really sound so horrible? To be cherished, protected?”
“Controlled? A plaything?” She
wasn’t letting him get off easy on this one. She had to prove to him — and
herself — that she wasn’t some spineless pushover. Beaten down, scared, like
she’d been in the past. Worse.
“Yes, maybe you’d be a plaything,
if you want to think of it that way.” His gaze flashed as he sat back again. “You
would be mine after all.”
“I am nobody’s plaything, Parker.”
“Sir,” he growled. “And if you were
mine, you would be.”
Ashley digested that for a minute,
the stroking of Parker’s hand over her own a pleasant distraction from her dark
thoughts.
She was supposed to be fleeing the
possessiveness and insane jealousy she’d
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