Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Riding?” I had never ridden a horse in my life. I didn’t intend to start now. “Not to be… Can you even ride a horse, with your leg?”
“Won’t know until I try.” He tilted his head. “And even if I can’t, it’s a great euphemism for sneaking off and fucking.”
A laugh exploded from my throat. “You’re not going to want to fuck me when we’re at your mother’s house.”
“I want to fuck you everywhere. I want to bend you over this table right now. I would, if I didn’t have to get out of here.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate that I’m going back to work.”
“I love that you are,” I said, surprising myself. “I didn’t know the old Matt, but the new Matt needs to get into the rhythm of his normal life. And let’s say I decide to stay here longer—”
He brightened up considerably. “Yes, let’s say that.”
“If,” I emphasized. “We’re not going to stay in this apartment naked full-time.”
He made an exaggeratedly juvenile, “Aww,” of disappointment.
“I’m going to get a job, for one.” That was nonnegotiable. “I mean, it’s not like I’d be contributing a substantial amount of income. And I can live without working. But I don’t want to be caged up here.”
“Whoa, whoa.” He rose and came to stand beside my chair, his palms flat on the table as he leaned down. “Listen to me: you’re never going to be caged up. You’re in New York. There is so much to do down there. Shopping, shows, museums—”
“Okay, tourism board,” I interrupted him. “Have you ever been to those museums?”
He hesitated.
“When it wasn’t for rich people events and galas?” I added.
He dropped his head in shame. “No, I have not.” Looking up, he added, “But I could! Now that you’re here.”
“What I’m saying is that I have to have a life of my own so that I can maintain an identity separate from you.” I took a deep breath. “Look, I’m going to spend your money today. I have no qualms about redistributing a billionaire’s wealth into my own pocket. But I’m not going to become a kept woman. Spas all day? Shopping for things I’m buying out of boredom? That all sounds amazing for a week. After that, I’ll get tired of it. I’m fickle.”
“And you don’t want to get tired of me,” he finished for me.
I reached up and tousled his shower-damp hair. “I love you. I don’t want to screw this up.”
He captured my hand and brought it to his lips. “I don’t want that either.”
God, he was so fucking charming. And handsome. You’re going to screw this up, an unhelpful voice in the back of my mind warned me.
“Fifty thousand?” I repeated, to be sure I’d heard him correctly.
“At least fifty thousand,” he confirmed.
“And what do I get if I succeed?” I asked.
His eyebrows lifted. “Fifty thousand dollars’ worth of new wardrobe.”
“If you were going to punish me, my dragon, I assume you’re also going to reward me.” I sat back and toyed with the top of my robe, sliding my fingers along the edge of the soft material. I opened my legs, but the robe obscured the view I knew he wanted.
His mouth slanted in a crooked smile. “Trust your dragon.”
“Completely,” I promised, and watched with a smirk of satisfaction as he adjusted himself under his pajama bottoms before walking away.
Fifty thousand dollars. I was going to have to buy a fucking car to avoid my punishment.
* * * *
It wasn’t as if I’d never been in a high-end department store before. My parents made plenty of money, and my prom dresses in high school had been fantastic. But I was not prepared for Bergdorf Goodman.
Entering was like stepping into Versailles. And even though on the West Coast, you could tell how rich someone was based on how sloppy they looked in public, here, everyone seemed to be wearing designer everything.
I was in jeans and T-shirt with a purse from Target over my arm.
A sales associate spotted me, and I started their way. They turned and hoofed it.
Fuck.
Matt was rich enough to shop here. I wasn’t.
I spent some time exploring. There were boutique areas for names I’d heard of but never dreamed of wearing and I certainly wasn’t brave enough to touch anything. I wondered if I would be punished if I just bought an expensive necklace or something and handed him the receipt.
“Excuse me.”
I spun at the sound of the voice, certain I would see a store associate ready to ask me if I needed to know where the exit was. Instead, a gorgeous brunette in a strange, baggy aqua dress that looked like a men’s shirt on top and balloon animal legs for a skirt stood there with a dazzling, if perplexed, smile.
And she did look familiar.