Free Driven by K. Bromberg Page B

absolutely nothing to do with you. Nothing! Second, I don’t ever pay for dates, Rylee. Ever . I have more class than that.” I can feel his fury roll off him in waves.
    “You paid for a date with me,” I retort.
    “Charity. Auction. Does. Not. Equal. Escort. Service.” He snarls at me, taking a step closer, but never breaking our reflective stare. “Lastly,” he seethes, grabbing hold of my arm to emphasize his point, “I don’t ever want to hear your refer to yourself as a whore again.”
    We stand in silence as his words settle around us. Why the hell does he care what I call myself? He has no claim over me. I know better than to provoke when someone is angry, but I can’t help myself. For some reason I want to push his buttons. If I’m going to be forced to do something, then I might as well say my piece.
    “Then why the contract? The events that I’m required to be your escort for.” I yank my arm out of his grip. “Sounds like your ego is bruised because I won’t succumb to your dazzling charm, so you need to tie me to you to prove to yourself that you still have that magic Colton touch . That you haven’t lost it—”
    “I didn’t say anything about bondage,” he smirks, cutting me off. “But if that’s your thing, Rylee, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I can teach you the ropes .”
    I shake my head in disbelief; the meaning of his words as they sink in has blood rushing to my cheeks, before I can meet his eyes in the glass again. “I’m ignoring your last comment,” I say dryly, trying to recall what my point was since he has scattered my thoughts so cleverly. Um—where was I? Oh! “Your ego’s bruised because I won’t fall helplessly at your feet and become your compliant sexual plaything, so you come to my work—take the one thing that I really want, the one thing that I’ve been working toward for over two years—and you serve it up to me on a platter.”
    “And the problem with that is …?”
    “The problem is that you offer it to me with terms that can only logically be explained as self-satisfying for you …” I falter because I realize I’m rambling now. And at some point I’m afraid that if I keep talking, private thoughts may tumble out—thoughts about him. And if I slip, then … he’ll know I think about him more than I should.
    Colton sidles up next to me, leaning his shoulder on the glass, staring at my profile. Our silence extends for several moments, my anxiety ratcheting from his quiet scrutiny.
    When he speaks, his voice is demandingly soft, “Why won’t you go out on the date with me?”
    Whoa, change of subject! A sliver of a laugh escapes my mouth from nerves. I keep my face averted from his, watching the world outside. “For what reason? You and I come from different worlds, Colton, that have different rules. You want a date so you can add another to the many notches in your bedpost. You said you wanted to fuck me to get me out of your system, and move on,” I say, reiterating his threat. In my periphery, I see him blanche at my words. “You may be used to women declaring their love for you and dropping their panties at clever lines such as that but not this one.”
    Colton starts to speak. I know he’s going to drop a witty one liner about how I’ll have no problem dropping mine for him. Using one of his own tactics, I stop him before he can interrupt by holding my hand up. “My time with you was a momentary indiscretion on my part. One that will never happen again.” I turn my face to look Colton in the eyes. “I’m not that kind of girl, Ace.”
    His regards me, the muscle in his jaw pulsing. He leans into me, the coarseness of his voice making his words resonate their truth. “You know that deep down, a tiny part of that proper, respectable woman you are, wants to visit that reckless, sexy, uninhibited place inside you that’s begging to get out. A place I can undoubtedly help you find.”
    My eyes blaze at him while I try and reject