Page 8 of 12 Days of F*ckmas
A low groan left him. “Mmmm. Say my name again.”
I widened my eyes. “Can we get back to my saying I am horrible in bed?”
“What we should discuss is the price for these twelve days.”
“Twelve days?” I shook my head. “That is not happening. I have to help my father and check on my mother and—”
“I have men to take care of your tasks, but for these next twelve days your only job is to service me.”
I blinked.
He leaned his head to the side. “Do we understand each other?”
I sat there in shock.
Hunger rode his voice. “How much, Mariah?”
Unintentionally, I shivered in desire. His damn voice and that horny look in his eyes kept triggering sensual visceral reactions in my body.
“How much?”
Okay. This could be my out. Say some ungodly price.
My bottom lip quivered.
I cleared my throat. “A million dollars.”
He nodded. “Deal.”
What?
I tensed.
He licked his lips. “On the twelfth day, you will have the money in cash and inside of a briefcase.”
“A-are you serious?”
“I am always serious when it comes to money.” He reached over and handed me the gold-wrapped box. “This is our second day together. Here is a present.”
With shaking hands, I grabbed it. “O-kay. So. . .you know that I suck in bed and am not a professional. And. . .you are still going to pay me one million dollars at the end of twelve days?”
“Yes.”
“But. . .”
“Open the present, Mariah.”
I tore through the smooth gold paper and then lifted the small black box.
What is this?
At first I thought it might have been earrings. Then, I rummaged through my memories at the brothel and realized they were nipple clamps.
O-kay.
In fact, they were two shiny, platinum nipple clamps with a chain of multicolored gems between them.
Gabriel’s deep voice slipped along my skin. “Pull down the blanket. I want to see those beautiful, full breasts again.”
