I paced around my apartment until my phone finally rang at 8:30.
It was Jared.
“Hello, Miss,” he said, which felt weirdly formal, since he knew such intimate details of my life. “Are you ready for your evening?”
“I am, Jared, thanks,” I said. “I’ll be right out.”
I went to grab my purse before realizing that wherever Noah was taking me, there was no way I could bring my huge messenger bag. I needed something sleek and tiny.
I rummaged around in my closet before coming up with a tiny black Coach wristlet. I started switching over the essentials – lipstick, keys, ID, cash…. All the small stuff was in the bottom of my messenger bag, so I had to pull everything out to get to it, including the file folder I’d been given on Noah’s case, the one I’d been avoiding looking at.
It dropped to the floor as I went to grab my credit card out of my wallet, the documents spilling out onto the carpet.
I reached down to pick them up.
And then I froze.
It was a picture of Dani DeClair, another one from her autopsy. The top was labeled “DeClair, Dani.” Only this one was a split frame, with a picture from another woman’s autopsy on the other side of the page. “Hogan, Nora” it was labeled. Noah’s ex-fiancé.
The pictures were taken from the same angle, close up on both women’s wrists. It was an unremarkable shot, especially for autopsy photos. The pictures hadn’t been taken because they were gory or shocking in any way. They were taken because of their similarities.
Both women had matching light red marks on their wrists, circling around as if they’d been tied by something.
The same exact marks I had on mine.
Noah
I got to the club promptly at nine, and made my way inside. It wasn’t my usual place. Charlotte wasn’t ready for Force, and I didn’t want to scare her off before we’d even started. Besides, I liked my anonymity.
I ordered bottle service for a table in the corner and watched as men and women gyrated on the dance floor, their bodies a tangled mess. The women were beautiful and came in all shapes and sizes, blonde, brunette, curvy, fit, skinny, tan, freckled…whatever you were searching for, you could find it here.
The men who frequented this club were very rich. And very rich men tended to attract very beautiful women.
I watched as a man placed a collar on a stunning Brazilian girl and began leading her to the VIP area downstairs.
My cock strained against my pants. Not because I had any interest in the Brazilian girl – no, quite the opposite. All of these women were nothing compared to Charlotte, with her curvy hips and voluptuous body, her gorgeous tits and pouty little lips. I was hard because I couldn’t stop thinking about her, imagining how innocent she was, how cute her little tantrum had been earlier in the lobby of her building.
You shouldn’t have invited her here.
I knew that.
But I couldn’t resist.
I needed to make her mine. It was pull I hadn’t felt toward anyone since Nora, and even Nora… I didn’t remember it being like this.
A blond waitress in a skintight silver minidress came over.
“Would you like more champagne, sir?” she asked. Her eyes never left the ground. The waitresses had been taught not to make eye contact with the clients of the club.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Let me know if you need anything else, sir.” She set a collar down on the table next to me before moving on to the next table.
I reached out and wrapped my hand around the smooth leather ring. It was my collar for the night, to do with as I pleased.
I checked my watch.
9:07.
Charlotte was late.
Disappointment ran through me at the thought that she might not show.
She had to show.
I wanted her.
I needed her.
Tonight her training would begin.
END OF BOOK TWO
WHAT HE DEMANDS
(What He Wants, Book Three)
NOAH
9:10.
It was 9:10 and she still wasn’t here.
I took another sip of my drink and leaned back in the red leather booth. Had I spooked her in some way, perhaps with that talk in her lobby where I told her that in order for her to be with me, really be with me, she’d have to do things she’d never even considered?
She hadn’t seemed spooked.
In fact, she’d seemed eager and willing.
And according to the text she’d just sent me, she was ready to go, all dressed up in a sexy little black dress that hugged her curves. It drove me insane just looking at her. I couldn’t wait to fill her with my cock, to tie her up, to make her beg me to fuck her.
9:14.
I wondered if she was trying to mess with me, planning to arrive late in order to keep me guessing. The thought was amusing. If she wanted to play those kind of games, she was going to learn fast that there would be a price.
My dick hardened, thinking about the way she’d looked at me in the lobby earlier, telling me she wanted to understand, to learn. I wanted to teach her, to bring her into my world.
But she still wasn’t here.
Disappointment washed over me, and I was shocked to realize that if she didn’t show up, I would head home. I was surrounded by beautiful women, women who had been conditioned and primed to provide pleasure for the men who requested it. And yet all I could think about was Charlotte. Her lush curves, her fiery spirit, the way it felt to hold her close. She was innocent. Pure. Perfect.
Be careful, Noah. Don’t get too close.
I wouldn’t. If she wasn’t here by 9:20, I would leave. It would be better for me. And for her. I would have her fired from helping Colin Worthington. I would tell him it was nothing personal against her, that I just no longer felt comfortable having law students working on my case.
The police weren’t going to arrest me anyway. I was sure of it.
Stop being disappointed. She was too good for you. She would have never understood.
I surveyed the crowd on the dance floor, watching as a blonde girl in her mid-twenties was collared and led to the VIP room.
You should take another woman.
You have to.
Forget about Charlotte Holloway.
You need to get her out of your system.
Find another pussy you can bury your dick in, a woman who will let you do what you need.
That’s when I saw her.
Charlotte.
She was standing just inside the door, wearing that tight little black dress she’d sent me a picture of. High black stiletto heels were on her feet, and the fabric of her dress gathered at her waist, showing off her curves and hugging that deliciously round ass. Even from here, I could tell she was wearing more make-up than usual. Her plump lips were done in a shade of red that made me harden. I couldn’t wait for her to suck me off, taking every last drop of my come down her pretty little throat.
She looked around, confused. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes widened as she took in the fact that most of the women on the dance floor were scantily clad and grinding up on the men. She bit her lip as she watched a man reach out and put his hand on his date’s skirt, then pull it up and grab her ass in front of everyone.
It was this part – her naivety about sex and the world – that made her so irresistible. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked with mine. She began to make her way over to me.