We read on.

I like to have fun. I like to mix it up. I fucking LOVE to watch, so I’ll make her fuck and suck off other guys while I sit back and enjoy the show. She has to remember that she’s my fuck toy. She’s there to entertain, and to take what we give her. I won’t go easy on her.

Oh my God. Oh my God. My face is aflame, my entire body so taut I could puke from the tension. It’s nearly impossible for me to equate the filthy, depraved things he’s saying with the concept that he could be talking about me.

He could be doing those things to me.

But beneath it all, beneath the blushing and the nausea and the tension and the ringing in my ears is the oddest pulse between my legs. It’s the kind of cavalier, fatalistic thrill you get when you strap yourself into a death-defying rollercoaster. The kind of thrill parachutists must feel in that moment as they stare at the earth thousands of feet below, right before they throw themselves out of a plane door.

It’s some kind of fucked-up life force that welcomes existential threats, that thinks bring it on. And it’s the only thing that saves me from running from this room and the prospect of putting myself in this man’s hands.

Because, God knows, this is the mother of all rollercoasters. And if I’m going to survive a day in this role then I’ll have to buckle the hell up.

CHAPTER 6

Brendan

Iwas wrong-footed last time I met Marlowe; that’s why I behaved like such a fucking loser. I was prepared for a boring night of “culture” at the Royal Academy, prepared to suck it up for the sake of the family name, to drink champagne, and give my brother a hard time about how he should fuck his hot assistant, and possibly flirt with a few attractive women.

I was most definitely not prepared to come face to face with a woman who had the face of an angel. Neither could I have ever expected that my well-trodden autopilot functions of sexy smile and flirty one-liners would malfunction to the point of non-existence and leave me gaping and stuttering and barely able to shake her hand.

It had never happened to me before, and it hasn’t happened since, and it’s sure as fuck not happening today. Because I am a CEO of a FTSE 100 company, not to mention one of the most eligible—and accomplished—players in London, and I won’t tolerate being a tongue-tied schoolboy in front of my prospective EA with benefits.

I just won’t.