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I’m not interested in what she’s doing. Regardless of whether she’s busy or not, she’ll be going to that gala with me. It’s her fault she planned it in the first place.
“I haven’t checked with her. Should I?” Charles asks, his tone still cautious.
I stay silent for a second, thinking about how I should approach this.
She made it clear to me that we have a strictly professional relationship, which in her world, means no fucking. So, I see no reason why bringing her as a date would be a bad idea. What harm will it do?
“No. Don’t check. Just tell her she’s going to the gala with me.”
I don’t look at him directly because I feel him glare at me.
I know from experience. It’s a look that makes you think twice about a questionable decision. It’s a mixture of shock and anger, and I almost want to say fear.
Obviously, I avoid looking directly at it. Though, I do feel a little bad for him because it won’t be easy to break the news to her, that’s for damn sure.
“You’re joking, right? You’re not actually going to take her to the gala? As like a date or some shit?”
“Does it look like I’m joking?”
I push my hands behind my head and spread my legs out, straightening my face and removing any expression from it. It’s a common tactic of mine, spreading myself out, so my body can show off its overwhelming presence. I’m tall and broad, and I can intimidate the fuck out of anyone; it hasn’t failed me yet.
“How do you think you’re going to persuade that woman to go? She’s strict about this being only a working relationship.”
“What? This isn’t work?” I smirk at him, feeling very assured of myself.
He rolls his eyes and sits down in the chair in front of my desk.
I can tell he’s getting annoyed, but I don’t give two fucks. I pay him well, so he has to deal with my bullshit. And this is tame in comparison to what I’ve put him through.
“Go buy her a pretty dress and some nice heels. I want sky high stilettos. Oh, and make the dress slutty as fuck. I want to see every inch of that tight ass body twitch when I touch her,” I instruct him while getting distracted by the image I’m drawing up in my mind.
“You really think that’s going to work? Buy the pretty lady a dress, and she’ll just give in like that? This isn’t ‘Pretty Woman.’”
“Oh, she will. And Charles, do you really think she can resist me? I’m the King, not some rich business man. And I’ll be in a fucking tuxedo. No one in the history of man could deny that.” I wink at him.
“You’re a pompous ass.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I place my arms on my desk and clasp my hands together as if I’m contemplating something. But there’s only one thing on my mind.
“It’ll be nice to have some arm candy for a change. I’m just hoping that I’ll be able to get a taste.”
“I thought you’re on a ‘no sugar’ diet.” He laughs, mocking me.
“Don’t be an idiot. Once we sweeten the deal with the dress and shoes, I bet you, I’ll be lathering in her juices. Possibly, even before the gala begins.”
“I’d never bet against you, but I still think you’re a fucking ass for trying. Isn’t she supposed to be fixing your image, not tarnishing it?”
“Well, she has the polish to fix it, right? That’s why she’s fucking here anyway.”
He gets up and makes his way to the door while eyeing whatever he scribbled on the piece of paper on the clipboard.
“David, she’s not a toy or a game you can just play with. She’s working for you.”
I smile, excited for the day ahead now. I can’t believe he thinks whatever he’s saying will change my mind. He’s not my fucking mother.
“I know that, Charles,” I emphasize his name in a condescending tone. “But it also never stopped me before. This is one of my favorite types of games to play. You know this.”
“Well, as your pawn piece, I’ll see to it that she has a dress and shoes ready for tonight. Wish me luck convincing her. And I hate you for this. Don’t forget about your meeting at noon.”
He leaves, slamming the door behind him.
Ugh, fuck.
Well, at least, I can distract myself with thoughts of Vivienne writhing underneath me while I expertly work her over with my tongue. It’ll be a lot better than dealing with Lord Fuckface all afternoon.
And for the time being, I’ll revel in my devious plans.
But seriously, how can you blame me for wanting to try? This game is too fucking tempting not to play.
