Filthy Beautiful Lies

Chapter 4 - Colton

Chapter 4 - ColtonOne million dollars? My head is still spinning. Sophie swallows the liquor I gave her, the delicate column of her throat working. She makes a grimace. Okay, so I'm mature enough to admit this is not going well.

Tonight has been an absolute f*****g debacle. One million dollars was more than I’d wanted to spend and more importantly, I didn’t want a virgin. I’d wanted one of the older, more independent girls who’d done this type of thing before. Not someone I’d have to handhold and train every step of the way. Something tells me Sophie is going to take more time and work than I’ve bargained for.

I release a heavy sigh, and take a long swallow of bourbon, letting it warm a path down my throat. The dull roar of the jet engine is giving me a headache and I pour another measure into my glass.

Fuck’s sake, what had I been thinking?

I glance over at the girl, she’s finished her drink, and the way she’s huddled into the leather chair—her knees pulled up to her chest, and her arms wrapped tightly around them—creams of her discomfort. Her eyes are closed as though she’s trying to summon her inner strength for whatever is about to come her way. I can already tell this isn’t going to go well. f**k.

I’d only outbid that asshole who wanted her because he’d gotten the girl I had picked out. She was closer to my own age of twenty eight, and this was her third time entering into this type of relationship. She was tried and tested and would have made a good drama-free companion. But that prick had been the one to take her home, so when he started bidding on Sophie, outbidding him was my way of giving the asshole a taste of his own medicine. Plus, he just seemed like a dirt-bag and I didn’t want him to have her. The little boy inside me wanted to take his toy and go home. Of course, the terrified, timid girl sitting across from me is now mine to deal with, so maybe I hadn’t exactly thought that plan through.

And a virgin too…would she even be capable of handling me? I highly doubted it. I hadn’t wanted a project—someone to babysit and go slow with. But s**t, I’m the one in control. There’s no real reason to go slow. I can set the pace of this. And I will.

As I continue studying her, my c**k perks up in interest. She’s petite, but with all the rounded curves a woman’s body should have. Soft moldable t**s and an ass meant for grabbing onto. Or spanking. Her skin is creamy and pale, except for the apples of her cheeks which are flushed pink. Long dark hair hangs loose over one shoulder. My gaze travels north and I realize her blue eyes have lifted to mine. She’s watching me expectantly, obviously wondering what will happen next. Good f*****g question.

I have no idea why I told her to call me Drake. Actually, I do. It doesn’t take a psychologist to figure out that my employees call me Mr. Drake and hearing her call me Colton would feel too familiar. Too intimate. That isn’t what this connection is about. It’s business. Pure and simple. The business of my d**k getting some much overdue attention and having a steady female companion without the hassle of navigating the dating scene. Get your head in the f*****g game, Colt.

Sophie will be somewhere to park my d**k when I'm bored. I have needs and she'll provide for those. There's no need to get all philosophical about things. I'm in charge here. Everything will work out just fine, I'll just have to set some boundaries and expectations. We'll be home soon and then I'll make sure she knows what's expected of her. I'll get the attention I need and she'll get her money--it's an ancient arrangement and I won't feel guilty about the fact that I have certain desires, certain fantasies.

As the liquor warms a path inside me, I take a breath and cast a glance over at the beauty seated across from me. Yes, this will do quite well...