32

I’m not a stalker.

I just wanted to see her pretty cheeks turn pink as I texted her filthy shit while she tried to dine with her stepmother. From my perch at the bar in the restaurant, I had a prime view, too. Everything was going well, satisfying even when I managed to get that waiter fired on the spot for not only staring a little too long but by placing the napkin back in her lap. As though that piece of shit even had a chance with someone like Ash. I’d been eager to send her to the bathroom, get her worked up, and then I planned on surprising her.

But things got away from me.

Nate called to warn me about Ash’s intentions with me. He thinks she wants to marry a Constantine. That she’ll use me for my money. If he only knew… He comes from a good place, though, worrying over my wellbeing. I do, however, question what prompted his sudden concern. Ash Elliott doesn’t have the skill to take advantage of a man like me. And if she’s really hoping for a ring, the poor girl is delusional. That ship sailed a long time ago, thanks to a girl who broke my heart when I actually had one. I can play with Ash, but no one—not even a naughty girl so willing to please me—will have the opportunity to know that part of me again. Later, when she and I are alone, I’ll make sure she understands it, too.

When I finally got rid of Nate, read her texts, and saw her hot-as-hell smooth pussy, I was ready to fuck her raw. Then, I noticed those bastards had arrived and were following my girl to the restroom. The triplets who have a death wish.

I wanted to kill them. Hell, I still do.

I’m not used to feeling so out of control. Ash brings out the worst in me, and I can’t help but feel a thrill from it.

The triplets are a problem, though, which is why as soon as I get back to my computer, I’m going to find out where those monsters plan on going to college so I can fuck with them for terrorizing Ash. I thought tattling to their mommy would be enough, but it’s clear they’re not going to leave her alone until I send a message they can get through their thick skulls.

“You’re too quiet,” Ash says from the passenger seat, tugging at the hem of her silky dress. “I’m thinking.”

“Does it hurt?”

I glance over at her, amused at the silly grin on her face. “No, smartass. It doesn’t hurt. But since you’re feeling playful and we didn’t get to finish our game, I think sitting in traffic is a perfect time to play.”

“Why do I feel like I’m going to hate this?”

“You won’t hate it, dirty girl. You’re learning you’re just as fucked up as I am.”

She sighs in resignation because we both know it’s true. This goes beyond the money. Sure, she loves it, because who doesn’t love money? But this is more. She’s turned on by my creative depravity. I love exposing her to it. Infecting her with my filth.

“Show me what everyone else got to see tonight,” I say, my eyes on the taillights in front of me. “You sent me a picture, but I need to see the real thing.”

The darkness must give her confidence because she slides the silk up her toned thighs and lifts the material.

“Tuck it into your seatbelt,” I rumble, watching her from my peripheral. “You’re riding home like that.” It’s cute that she keeps her thighs pressed together like I won’t see.

“Take your sandal off and give me your foot.” I glance over at her, loving the panicked look in her eyes. “Now, Cinderelliott.”

She huffs as though she’s annoyed, but then she kicks off her shoe. Her movements are jerky and awkward, but she manages to stretch her leg across the console. I caress her soft foot, learning all the curves there.

“Feel how hard our games make me?” I grip her foot and rub it over my cock that’s hard and straining against my slacks. “You do this, Ash. You make a billionaire like myself horny for a fucking foot.”

She laughs. “You are so strange, Win.”

“And you’re fucking hot for the strangeness I offer.” I skim my fingers up her calf, circling the inside of her knee. “Touch yourself.”

“Here?” she squeaks out. “Now?”

“We’re in traffic. What else do we have to do but sit and entertain ourselves?” “Fine.”

“Don’t act like pleasure is a hardship, brat. You like to feel good as much as the next person. At least I’m paying you for it.”

“You always make this stuff ten times more awkward by reminding me of that,” she grumbles.

“Stop stalling,” I murmur, running my fingers higher up her thigh toward her pussy. “Touch yourself before I do it for you.”

She trembles at my words, deliberately stalling. I smack her cunt hard enough to make her cry out. Her leg jerks up, but I pin it back down so her foot stays pressed against my dick.

“You fucker! You can’t hit . . . that.”

“I’m paying for it. It’s mine. I can do whatever I want.” “You’re insufferable.”

“Touch. Your. Cunt.”

She scowls at me, hesitating briefly before she slips her fingers to her pussy. It’s quiet as she rubs at her clit slowly. I massage her foot, my eyes glued to the way she touches herself. The scent of her arousal fills my car and makes me salivate for a taste.

“Does it feel good?” I ask as I run my fingers up her thigh again. “Yes.”

“Are you wet?” “Yes.”

“Slide your finger in and let me see.”

Her breath hitches as she pushes into herself. She squirms as she fucks her finger and then pulls it out. I grip her wrist, pulling her hand closer. Leaning in, I wrap my lips around her finger, tasting her.

“Mmm,” I praise. “Tastes like the filthy, depraved girl I knew you were.”

I bite down on her finger, capturing her. Then, I smack her needy pussy again. She cries out when she tries to pull her hand back, but my teeth dig in, not allowing her to go. A whimper escapes her but it’s one filled with desire.