Read Online Slave Gamble by Claire Thompson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Claire Thompson
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was kind of flattering, in a
sick way. I said, “All right, Jim. I’ll let the man buy me a drink. But just
for the record, this is the last thing you’ll ask of me, because as of now,
we’re through.”
It was as if he
didn’t hear the last part, or didn’t care. At any rate, all he focused on was
that I said I’d do it. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” he cried,
catching me up in a big bear hug. “Just an evening. And you have my cell
number. Just call me if you need me.”
Yeah, like he’d
come running to save me while I was being raped. I would say, ‘Excuse me,
please stop raping me a minute so I can call my useless ex-boyfriend, Jim.’ I
glanced over at my would-be rapist. He was looking at us now, and he smiled
that slow smile again. He didn’t look like a rapist. He looked like a serious
babe.
Jim faded away,
and I walked slowly over to the man who had won me in a bet.
“You handled that
well,” he remarked, grinning. “Got out of the relationship without all the
usual tears and fights. And now, instead of staying at this lavish, but between
us, rather dull party, you get to spend an evening with me.”
“I get to, eh?
Well, no offense, but you are awfully sure of yourself.”
He cocked his head
at me, and gave me a look that sent shivers right to my core. I hoped he hadn’t
noticed. Who was this guy? Instead of responding directly to my taunt,
he said, “Have you got a car, or would you like to ride with me?”
Like I would
really get into this stranger’s car! “I have my own car. What did you have in
mind?”
“You can follow
me.”
“To where? I don’t
really want another drink, to tell you the truth.” My head was starting to ache
slightly, as the champagne worked its poison through my system.
“My house. It’s
not far from here, actually.”
“Sorry. I don’t go
to strange men’s houses.”
He gave me that
look again; the one that seemed to bypass my brain and go right to my soul.
“You know me already, Zoë. And I know you. I know what you want, and what you
need. Poor Jim hadn’t a clue. And I imagine none of your other boyfriends did
either. That’s why such a lovely sexy woman is still unattached at the ripe old
age of twenty-eight. Am I right?”
“I’m sure I have
no idea what you mean,” I said haughtily, though something inside me was
responding to whatever secret language he was speaking. He looked at me again,
saying nothing.
Instead he began
to walk away. Confused I called out, “Hey! Where’re you going?”
“To my car. It’s
out front. You can follow me. Say your goodbyes to our lovely hostess, and meet
me in the driveway. Take your time; I’ll wait.” I considered protesting again;
refusing, but it was no contest. The man, if nothing else, had me very
intrigued. And truth to tell, I didn’t really think he was dangerous or would
harm me if I went to his house. Something in his eyes told me I was safe.
Besides, I had
Jim’s cell phone number.
* * * * *
His house was
every bit as imposing as Amelia’s. I found my hostess, and after being forced
into a few minutes of small talk with some foreign dignitary, I was able to
pull her aside. “Listen, Amelia! The craziest thing has happened! My stupid
boyfriend. That is, my ex-boyfriend as of tonight, made a $2,500 bet he
couldn’t honor, and so he told this guy he’d let him spend the evening with me in payment!”
“What?” Amelia, a
large but beautiful woman, looked down at me in surprise. “And who is this who
is so taken with you? Who would pay $2,500 for an evening with Zoë Lennon? I
mean, you’re a cute kid, but that seems a bit steep!” She was grinning, as if
she thought I was joking.
“I’m serious,
Amelia! The guy in question is someone named David Turner—”
She interrupted,
her eyes growing round, “David Turner! Do you have any idea who he is? Oh my
god! He wants to spend the evening with you? You are so lucky! I
couldn’t believe it when he said he’d
sick way. I said, “All right, Jim. I’ll let the man buy me a drink. But just
for the record, this is the last thing you’ll ask of me, because as of now,
we’re through.”
It was as if he
didn’t hear the last part, or didn’t care. At any rate, all he focused on was
that I said I’d do it. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” he cried,
catching me up in a big bear hug. “Just an evening. And you have my cell
number. Just call me if you need me.”
Yeah, like he’d
come running to save me while I was being raped. I would say, ‘Excuse me,
please stop raping me a minute so I can call my useless ex-boyfriend, Jim.’ I
glanced over at my would-be rapist. He was looking at us now, and he smiled
that slow smile again. He didn’t look like a rapist. He looked like a serious
babe.
Jim faded away,
and I walked slowly over to the man who had won me in a bet.
“You handled that
well,” he remarked, grinning. “Got out of the relationship without all the
usual tears and fights. And now, instead of staying at this lavish, but between
us, rather dull party, you get to spend an evening with me.”
“I get to, eh?
Well, no offense, but you are awfully sure of yourself.”
He cocked his head
at me, and gave me a look that sent shivers right to my core. I hoped he hadn’t
noticed. Who was this guy? Instead of responding directly to my taunt,
he said, “Have you got a car, or would you like to ride with me?”
Like I would
really get into this stranger’s car! “I have my own car. What did you have in
mind?”
“You can follow
me.”
“To where? I don’t
really want another drink, to tell you the truth.” My head was starting to ache
slightly, as the champagne worked its poison through my system.
“My house. It’s
not far from here, actually.”
“Sorry. I don’t go
to strange men’s houses.”
He gave me that
look again; the one that seemed to bypass my brain and go right to my soul.
“You know me already, Zoë. And I know you. I know what you want, and what you
need. Poor Jim hadn’t a clue. And I imagine none of your other boyfriends did
either. That’s why such a lovely sexy woman is still unattached at the ripe old
age of twenty-eight. Am I right?”
“I’m sure I have
no idea what you mean,” I said haughtily, though something inside me was
responding to whatever secret language he was speaking. He looked at me again,
saying nothing.
Instead he began
to walk away. Confused I called out, “Hey! Where’re you going?”
“To my car. It’s
out front. You can follow me. Say your goodbyes to our lovely hostess, and meet
me in the driveway. Take your time; I’ll wait.” I considered protesting again;
refusing, but it was no contest. The man, if nothing else, had me very
intrigued. And truth to tell, I didn’t really think he was dangerous or would
harm me if I went to his house. Something in his eyes told me I was safe.
Besides, I had
Jim’s cell phone number.
* * * * *
His house was
every bit as imposing as Amelia’s. I found my hostess, and after being forced
into a few minutes of small talk with some foreign dignitary, I was able to
pull her aside. “Listen, Amelia! The craziest thing has happened! My stupid
boyfriend. That is, my ex-boyfriend as of tonight, made a $2,500 bet he
couldn’t honor, and so he told this guy he’d let him spend the evening with me in payment!”
“What?” Amelia, a
large but beautiful woman, looked down at me in surprise. “And who is this who
is so taken with you? Who would pay $2,500 for an evening with Zoë Lennon? I
mean, you’re a cute kid, but that seems a bit steep!” She was grinning, as if
she thought I was joking.
“I’m serious,
Amelia! The guy in question is someone named David Turner—”
She interrupted,
her eyes growing round, “David Turner! Do you have any idea who he is? Oh my
god! He wants to spend the evening with you? You are so lucky! I
couldn’t believe it when he said he’d
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