Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
* * *
There, he takes control, his breath ragged as his cock sets a firm rhythm, his intensity taking me, as it always does, by surprise. Hard thrusts let me feel exactly how aroused he is, every stroke bringing a new burst of pleasure.
* * *
I have fucked Nathan countless times. Standing, sitting, bent over or on his lap. But never this completely, never without an emotional wall of some sort between us, constructed either by him or me. This time, as his cock thrusts, as our eyes lock and our bodies move as one, my wall crumbles down.
* * *
In this moment, he takes my heart as well as my body.
* * *
The last time I spent the night with Nathan was in Rosemary Beach. I was a stripper, he a mark. I was already asleep when he got into bed, and he was dressed and gone by the time I woke. There was no cuddling, or spooning, no sweet words whispered.
* * *
When I crawl into the sheets, I almost expect the same. I lay on one side, facing away from him, and will my expectations into place. When the bed dents, and he slides up behind me, I hold my breath.
* * *
“Turn over.”
* * *
I roll over, and he is there, gathering me against his chest, his leg hooking around mine, pulling me flush to him, and he gently lifts my head, sliding his arm underneath, until my cheek is against his chest, his heart thudding in my ear.
* * *
In the moments before his breathing deepens, his hold on me relaxing, it is perfection.
* * *
Forbidden. Impossible. Perfection.
IV
DO US PART
A woman’s desperation is most clearly spoken in a kiss.
CHAPTER 47
I sit next to Nathan, giving him a nervous smile.
* * *
He reaches over, looping his fingers through mine, tugging a hand free and planting a soft kiss on the back on it. “Relax,” he murmurs.
* * *
I try, letting out a breath and rolling my neck slightly to relieve the tension there.
* * *
“Mrs. Dumont!” The dark-skinned man strides up to me with a smile, reaching forward and enthusiastically shaking my hand. “I am Leo Brantling. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
* * *
I match his smile, returning his handshake and gesturing to Nathan. “Mr. Brantling, this is Nathan Dumont.”
* * *
The man turns to Nathan with a smile, repeating the greeting ritual. “Come, come. Let’s step into my office.”
* * *
His office turns out to be a small glass cube, right off the lobby, two worn chairs in front of a crowded desk. I had envisioned riding an elevator, walking through ornate halls and lobbies until we reached a large corner office. I set down my purse and shift uncomfortably in the chair.
* * *
“Now, how can we help you this morning?” The man looks to me.
* * *
“I’d like to transfer all of the funds in my account.” I reach into my bag, pulling out the card that Nathan had given me two days prior, the account number written on the back.
* * *
“Will they be leaving the bank?” The man’s eyebrows meet in a worried pinch above his brown eyes.
* * *
Nathan leans forward in his chair. “No, they will be transferred to my account, here at the bank.”
* * *
“Very well.” The man smiles. “Is that the account number?”
* * *
When I nod, he takes the card, setting it before him and begins to type, his attention on the screen. “I’ll need identification, preferably a passport, for both of you. Mr. Dumont, may I have your account number?”
* * *
As Nathan speaks, I pull out my passport, a slight tremor in my hands. My fingers smooth over the rough blue plastic, opening it slightly to see my new name staring confidently back at me. Candace Dumont.
* * *
I am Candace Dumont. I was born on June 6, 1988. It’s all true. There's no reason for my hands to tremble, my heart to race.
* * *
“Mrs. Dumont, can you verify your social security number for me?”
* * *
My first lie. I recite the numbers, grateful for the time Nathan insisted I spend memorizing his sister’s social. Then I hand over the passport, aware of the change in power that is occurring right here, right now. The weight of influence shifts with every dollar that transfers from Candace’s account to Nathan’s. After this, I will be expendable, my purpose fulfilled. No reason other than honor to keep his promises and care for my father, no matter what our contract may say.
* * *
It's done entirely too quickly, the whole process taking less than five minutes. $54,236,301.59 transferred from one person to another faster than a twenty-dollar lap dance. Nathan is unhappy with the amount, a scowl stealing over his face when he sees the figure. “What’s wrong?” I whisper, scrawling a signature as I have been shown to do: a big, looping C followed by a swirl of squiggles, then the last name in clear, bubbly cursive.