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 saleswoman, 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.
Chapter Twenty-Four
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.