Page 17 of Wicked Player
Chapter Seven
He teases. And then he’s off again, dragging his mouth along my leg, down to my toes. He moves slowly back up, and hikes up my skirt. I find myself pushing my ass off of the bed so he can shove my skirt up over my hips. If that isn’t consent, I don’t know what is. I’m a goner. I’ve completely melted under his touch. He owns me. I'm not sure if it's the drugs or just him, but he has me, and it's all come to this moment. He has planned this. I know it. He’s done this before.
He hikes up my dress further up, over my chest. “I chose you because you're beautiful,” he says, finally answering my question.
“They are so much more beautiful than me,” I tell him.
“No,” he says. “Maybe they're taller, perhaps slimmer, but certainly not as beautiful. Have you ever really looked at yourself?”
God, is he one of those wolves in sheep's clothing? He's charming right now, to get into my pants, or under my dress, to be more accurate. I'm not falling for it. “I'm not letting you… you know? Get under my skirt.”
He laughs. “I don't want to get under your skirt.”
“You're a liar,” I scoff.
“Okay, I admit… I would like to get under your skirt, but it's not a necessity. I'm happy just spending the night with you until you fall asleep.”
“Really? And you're still going to pay me ten thousand dollars?” I really should have had that in a contract, like Demi Moore did in Indecent Proposal.
“Of course. It’s what we agreed on, right?”
“Who's to say you're good for it,” I say.
He smiles, still wrapped around me, “Oh, trust me. I'm good for it. You will be getting ten thousand dollars tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t seem like a great deal for you,” I joke.
“Oh, it is. For the both of us.”
“So what do you want to do with me?” I ask, realizing a second too late just how naughty my words sound.
“I just want to be here, next to you, until we both fall asleep.”
Is this guy for real?
“Tell me about yourself,” he urges. “I want to know more. I want to know all there is to know about you.”
“I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before. Nobody cares.”
“I do. I care,” he practically scoffs.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” I say, playing the devil’s advocate. “Is this what you do? To get into women’s skirts?”
He shakes his head. “Of course not.”
“Wow, it takes a lot of work, doesn't it? I'm surprised because you're a pretty hot guy. You should be able to get some action for free. And also, you should be able to do it much faster, without all the small talk. Isn’t this boring you?”
He laughs. “But I love the small talk. It makes it so much better if I know a woman before… if I know all her hopes and dreams, where she comes from, because I’m not out to fuck an object. I want to fuck a person.”
“Wow… you want to fuck a person. That's deep.”
“Please don't mock me.”
“I’m sorry, I'm being snarky again,” I say. “Let's go back… so you want to know about me… Well, it's pretty simple really. I have two sisters, raised by a single mom. My dad left us when I was ten. He's kind of an asshole. Anyway, so my mom was all we had. My sisters and I, Caroline and Candace. And by the way, my real name is Clara, not Anna.”
His eyes grow wide. “Clara?”
“Yes.”
