“My money.” The word comes out mocking. “I’m not what you call a big spender. Don’t attend the society galas and whatever the fuck. That’s what you like, isn’t it, June? The glitz and the glamour.”
It’s the only life I know, but I don’t tell him that. “Then what do you buy?”
His hand still waits for me, patient to a fault. He must know I don’t have a choice. He made me come up against the wall. I couldn’t control that, but taking his hand? Stepping into his truck? That decision will have to be mine.
He wants me to participate in my own humiliation.
He leans close, near enough I can see the deep brown of his eyes even in the clear sunlight. “Every so often there’s something I want, and then I have a nice fat bank account to make sure I can have it.”
My skin flushes hot with awareness. “I’m not for sale.”
“Aren’t you?” His laugh runs down my spine. “Then walk back into the house. No one’s going to stop you. Tell your Daddy that you aren’t going to fuck me, that he can find some other way to pay back all that money he owes. I’d love to watch the beautiful June Li tell her Daddy to go fuck himself.”
The temptation beats through my veins, thrums in my ears. It’s a siren song, the desire to escape from Asher’s dark promise. Except the safety of this house is an illusion. Papa isn’t going to protect me. He would not have sold me if there was any other choice; that much I believe.
The good daughter. That’s me.
I place my hand in Asher’s, and he lifts me carefully into the seat. When I’m settled on the wide leather bench, the door slams shut, closing me in. I keep my gaze straight ahead as the truck rumbles to a start. Where are we going? I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
We barely hit the freeway when he lets out a low laugh.
I swallow hard. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing’s funny, beautiful. I’m laughing for the pure fucking joy of it.”
It hits me then, as we’re barreling away from my house at eighty miles per hour—how permanent this is. Even if I’m back in my bedroom tomorrow or the night after that, or whenever Asher decides to bring me back, I won’t be the same. This night is going to change me.
It’s already changing me. There’s a fury inside me that wasn’t there this morning. Even a few hours ago I was content to be the good daughter. To do as I was told. Now I’m mad.
“You’re an asshole,” I say, almost shaking with the force of my emotion. “You’re worse than that. You’re a coward, because if you were really as strong as you act you wouldn’t need to make me feel small.”
He somehow makes the hard, unforgiving bench of the truck look like the most comfortable seat in the world. He makes it look like a throne, reclining with his hand over the back, blunt fingers toying with a piece of my hair. I have to work to ignore the heat of his fingers near my shoulder. I don’t want to feel him, and I sure as hell don’t want to take comfort from him.
“Do you feel small, June?” he asks, his voice mild. “Is that how I make you feel?”
Only when he asks the question do I realize it’s the opposite. I’ve spent so long fitting into the mold of the good daughter, making myself quiet and demure enough for the only daughter of the Li family. A flame made steady so that my glow will not offend.
Asher Cook turns me into a wildfire. I’m ready to consume him.
“Don’t lie to me,” I say. “You enjoyed that little show back there.”
“Oh, I won’t pretend that I didn’t. And I’m going to enjoy a show right now. Pull your dress up, beautiful. And take those panties off. I want to feel what I’m paying for.”
His crude words are like gasoline on the fire. “Fuck you.”
A tsk sound. “Such language.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re running out of time. I can turn the car around and drop you off in front of Daddy’s mansion. I wonder how long it will be before a foreclosure sign goes up on that nice front lawn?”
Bile rises in my throat. I don’t want to disgrace the Li family by becoming this man’s whore, but it will be worse if we lose the house and the business. Oh God.
Slowly I pull the black silk of my dress up my thighs.
Asher’s voice breaks through my uncertainty. “Ten… nine… eight… seven…”
I yank the hem up, exposing my thighs. It’s the same as wearing a swimsuit, at least that’s what I tell myself when he glances down at my legs. I reach up beneath the fabric to push my panties down. It’s awkward trying to move in this space, trying to keep myself covered. I clench my panties in a fist, trying to ignore how damp they feel. Asher Cook made me come. He drew the evidence of that on my chest. Now he holds out his hand, as patient as he did before I got into the truck.
My throat feels tight. Without a word I place my panties on his palm.
He brings the fabric to his nose and breaths in deep. “Christ, that’s good. Your cunt tastes amazing, beautiful? You ever taste yourself when you explore down there at night?”
The flush that spreads across my cheeks could light a match. No one is supposed to know what I do at night. How does this man know? “No,” I whisper.
“We’re gonna fix that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “You reach down and touch yourself now.”
I shove my hand between my legs, hard enough that it doesn’t feel good. He can’t make me feel good, especially when he’s not even touching me. He’s driving for Christ’s sake.
“Now, don’t be rough with that little pussy. That’s my job. Right now you just want to find your clit. You know where that is? Where it feels good, beautiful. Where it feels sharp and right and good.”
My fingers obey him even though my mind doesn’t want to. I rest my forefinger on my clit, closing my eyes at the quiet relief. “This isn’t good,” I say, but that’s a lie.
“Of course it is,” he says, casual as you please. The only sign that he’s moved by what’s happening is the bulge in his jeans. He doesn’t acknowledge his own arousal except to tighten his fist on the steering wheel. “You’re gonna have to endure this no matter what. Might as well get a little pleasure out of it. Now you’re going to play with that clit of yours while I tell you a story.”
“I don’t want to hear a story.”
He gives me a slow smile. “You’re right. It would be much more interesting to hear you tell the story. I’ll start it for you. One day you went to visit your daddy at one of his shopping centers while it was still under construction…. Don’t ignore your clit, beautiful. Make little circles.”
I glare at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you want me to show you?” He reaches across the console, and I make a high-pitch sound of protest. He laughs softly. “Then touch yourself.”
I move my finger slow and crude, not like I would if I were in bed alone. This isn’t really for my own pleasure, my hand between my legs. It’s for his. “I meant the shopping center.”
“Right, the story you’re telling me. About how you got out of the town car and walked up the steps, not knowing that the men were on shift change. They started whooping and hollering at you soon as they saw you in that plaid private school uniform, didn’t they? Gave you an earful.”