Chapter 91 Empty Promises
The moment those words left my mouth, we both froze. My face burned with embarrassment, and I angrily turned to stare out the window of the Maybach.
Ethan's deep laugh broke the silence. His large hand reached over to stroke my hair, his voice low and amused. "I don't know if other women want me, but I only want you."
I swatted his hand away. "Don't change the subject. Every time we talk about your behavior, you deflect with jokes or charm. But when it comes to me, you treat me like a prisoner. And yet you expect me to shower you with all my warmth and affection? Don't you think that's ridiculous?"
"Let me explain why I can do things that you can't." He shifted in his seat to face me directly. "First, there's the physical reality. With my height and strength, unless I allow it, no woman could force herself on me. Second, my position and status ensure most women wouldn't dare try anything inappropriate. But you..."
He paused, his sharp gaze softening as his hand gently caressed my face, his smile turning indulgent.
"You're a delicate young woman. Almost any man could overpower you if they wanted to. And let's face it - men think with what's in their pants half the time. I can't risk having other guys around you."
I raised my foot and placed it deliberately on his lap. "Then why don't you just cut off my feet? That way I couldn't walk anywhere, couldn't leave your golden cage. I'd just stay there until you get bored of me."
Ethan looked down at my white-socked foot and hooked his finger around the edge, sliding the sock off. I gasped at the sudden chill on my skin and tried to pull back.
"What are you doing?"
He gripped my bare foot firmly, his thumb massaging the arch. "Why would I? I could never harm you."
He positioned my foot between his legs, and my cheeks flamed hot as I felt him beneath the fabric of his pants. I tried to retract my foot, but his firm grip held me in place.
"Ethan, stop. We're in the car."
His fingers traced the bones of my ankle as he looked at me with dark, hungry eyes. "Press down a little."
I turned away, staring at the tinted window. "I won't. Not unless you agree to my conditions."
"Alright, I agree," he replied, far too quickly.
I looked at him suspiciously. "Are you lying to me?"
"I'm not lying. Press down and I'll agree to all your conditions."
My face burned hotter. "I can't. What if I... hurt you?"
He gave a low chuckle, his thumb brushing across my lips. "Then use your..."
The callused pad of his thumb grazed my lower lip suggestively. "Would that work better?"
I didn't answer. There was no way in hell I'd agree to such a vulgar request. Beyond finding it repulsive, the size difference between us was too extreme. The last time Ethan had forced me, my throat had hurt for days afterward, like a severe cold.
Eventually, Ethan relented, pulling me against his chest. His lips brushed my ear, his voice a husky whisper. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Be good for me tonight, okay?"
"How?" I asked, genuinely confused.
Ethan nibbled my earlobe, his laugh a warm puff against my skin. "I bought you some nice clothes. Try them on for me when we get back."
---
When we arrived at Reeding Waters, he wasted no time pressing me against the sofa, his lips hungrily claiming mine.
I pushed against his chest. "What about those clothes you mentioned? Let me see what you bought."
I regretted the words immediately. I could imagine exactly what kind of "clothes" he'd purchased. Definitely not anything decent.
Sure enough, when Ethan returned from the walk-in closet, he laid seven items on the sofa—each containing so little fabric they hardly qualified as clothing. Some were made of silk-like sheer material, others of fishnet lace. They came in every color: black, pink, red, purple, white—you name it.
Ethan braced one arm against the sofa beside my head, his other hand toying with a strand of my hair. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my face.
"Which one would you like to try on?" The "hmm" that followed rumbled from deep in his chest, low and magnetic with that gravelly texture that made my heart race.
My pulse quickened, pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. My face felt on fire. I looked away, lashes fluttering, lips pressed tightly together.
Ethan, seeing my embarrassment, smiled and kissed the corner of my mouth. His lips moved to my ear, his voice deep and heavy. "Since you can't decide, why not try all seven?"
"No way!" I immediately refused.
Seeing Ethan's meaningful smile, I felt both angry and embarrassed. My face grew even redder as I blindly grabbed one item without looking. Only when I held it did I realize it was a black sheer nightgown with thin spaghetti straps and lace trim at the hem—sexy yet somehow cute.
I started to reach for a different option, but before I could put it down, Ethan caught my hand.
His eyes narrowed slightly, his smile deepening. "This one."
---
By morning, three outfits were torn to shreds, two were stained beyond salvation, and I wasn't in much better shape. When Ethan carried me from the bathroom back to bed, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. I passed out almost instantly, falling into what felt more like unconsciousness than sleep.
Saturday meant no classes. I didn't set an alarm, and when I finally woke, it was nearly eleven.
The bed beside me was empty. Ethan had left a note on the nightstand.
I'll be gone for a few days. Be good, don't wander off. You can see your friends (female only). No seeing other men.
What the hell did he mean by "no seeing other men"?
Did he think I spent my days consorting with random guys? That arrogant bastard!
I crumpled the note into a ball and hurled it to the floor, seething with rage. The deceitful asshole had played me completely.
Yesterday he'd promised me freedom, tricked me into wearing five different ridiculous outfits. And now? Now he'd zipped up his pants and completely reneged on our deal.
But the worst discovery came when I finished breakfast and prepared to go out. My bag had been searched, and my ID, bank cards—even my school meal card—were all missing. All that remained was fifty dollars in cash.
I quickly checked my phone and nearly choked with fury. That bastard had transferred all my money to his account through mobile banking, leaving me with just $5.
Shaking with rage, I called Ethan. It took two attempts before he answered.