"So you surrender the bet? Also. 4 times... so far."
Emmett finally hands me the wine and I glance at the crimson liquid lapping up the sides of the glass. Looking past the rim, up to his firmly set expression... I think while his gaze doesn't blink. Those blue and purple eyes wait, patiently, for me to slip. Simply more times for me to forget to call him Ransom.
The bet was easy enough. Both be naked, call him Ransom at every turn... and see if I could sway the conversation away from business, control and money etc etc.
There were no other rules. So, as I think this, I slowly extend my arm and tip the wine over the bar, straight into a small sink on the opposing side, "Ransom. You also haven't stripped... have you forfeit the bet as well?" I shake out each drop of wine from the glass and then I feel a bit cocky and I drop the glass in the sink to be a bit dramatic.
Um. Shit?
I watch the glass strike the bottom of the sink and the side shatters immediately.
My mouth pops open and I feel the energy from Emmett change.
I quickly glance back up at him and the radiation of heat from his fury at my idiot move, damaging yet more of his property, is more than intimidation at this point.
I slip from the stool and I quickly back up towards a fluffy rug before an unlit fire place.
Distraction. I had to pretend that didn't happen. I grab the edge of my shirt and I pull it out from my skirt. I clasp the material in my hands and I prepare to pull it up, but -
Nerves overtake me. I'm frozen.
I've never undressed for anyone and I barely know him.
Not to mention, I was basically forced here, then forced into a bet and at the same time, I was secretly, deep down, enjoying the scrutiny of a hot billionaire's gaze. I was so confused up in my head right now.
"Cherry."
Shit, did he know I was wet? I was so dumb. He had my phone. I broke his wine glass. What was going to happen if I actually lost the bet -?
"Cherry."
My nickname repeated so hard, has my gaze flicking up bravely.
I see Emmett stripping for me. Not in a rushed way. In a soft, slow way... encouraging me to do it with him. He unbuttons his shirt, one button at a time. Super slow. Waiting for me to understand.
His tie is already off.
I reach up for my hair tie and I shake out my hair, feeling a bit more confident with my bleached hair hanging down. I could look nice with my natural black or as a fake blonde, I liked to change it up.
I fluff out my thick hair and I slowly take off my shirt, in time with Emmett.
I'm blushing all the way up my neck as I stay standing with my skirt and bra, stockings and polished work heels still on.
I take in Emmett's abdominals and I almost loose my footing. Fuck... and now his fingers are going to his belt. As he clips it off and slowly slips it out, I see something sharp in his pockets.
Car keys.
Wait, also -
The swipe card.
I let out a shaky breath and look at my feet.
"I'm nervous, Ransom," I whisper it.
"You want my help with that skirt, Cherry?"
I nod.
"Cherry." Emmett corrects me with a little humoured warning.
"Yes. Ransom," I correct my response.
"That's 5."
Psycho-shithead.
I had to get the hell out of here and now I had my means of escape, which kind of messed up my mind even more, but at least I had an option to work on.
As Emmett approaches confidently and stops in front of me, almost flush to my front, he puts his hands on either side of my skirt and he feels around for the hidden zip.
"Ransom?" I murmur.
"Yes?" Emmett finds the zip soon and slowly pulls it down.
"...do you enjoy abusing your power -"
"Abuse, Cherry? Are you kidding me? Why aren't you screaming bloody murder?" Emmett's tone starts to deepen into a snarl as he jerks down my skirt, "Let's see if you're lying to me like the brat you are, shall we?"
"Wait - "
I have to shimmy out of my skirt so I can get the agility to move backwards, but Emmett is too quick.
He grabs the waist of my stockings and slips his hand under, then under even further... under my panties. I gasp and grab his biceps to stop him, digging my nails in - but his hand dives low.
Emmett's finger gently swipes across and we both hear the wet noice it makes.
"Fucking prick," I step into him and push my forehead into his chest, hiding my face, Emmett doesn't force his finger anywhere else, but he does let out an amused growl.
"6."
"Ransom - if you can do that, I guess I can do this -" I boldly drop my hand to his pants, forcing my hand down his underwear and over his -
Um. Really hard, really erect, really long, really thick, really evil, violinist dick.
"Oh," I squeak into his chest and I feel Ransom tense a bit when my hand boldly feels around the girth of him, "...it... feels..." I gulp, "...nice..."
Ransom scoffs and his finger firmly brushes over my clit, swiping once, twice, three times.
I dig my nails in a bit tighter into his arm, while my hand slips from his pants and then he copies me, taking his hand from my stockings. I lay my curious hand on his abs, while Emmett raises his hand to his mouth, where he sucks on the finger covered in a hint of my pussy juice.
"Ew... why would you do that?" I ask and I almost forget, but a glint of sadistic victory in his eyes has me remembering to address him correctly, "Ransom."
"Take off your stockings," Emmett orders me, a simple test.
I stand back and I willingly take off my stockings, to test his reaction to my obedience.
I was just mucking around.
I was not forgetting to steal his swipe card and escape.
As I jump up and down a bit to pull off the stockings from my feet, Emmett smiles.
"You can keep the rest on, Cherry."
Leeway?
"What... about... your.... your pants... R-Ransom..." I stutter a bit as I point to his bulge, "Fair's fair." Even as I speak, Emmett slides off his pants and casually kicks them aside.
He's left in designer underwear that fits him perfectly, even if there's a bulge from his hard dick.
I glance at the couch and I get a silly idea. I wanted to take control of this conversation, just a bit.
"Sit with me on the rug, here? Ransom?" I ask as I drop my butt and cross my legs under me, holding my ankles and feeling a little bit less stressed since he allowed me to keep my bra and panties on. Without answering in words, Ransom sits opposite me, leaving a fair distance between us. He leans one arm over one raised knee, while his other hand pushes back into the rug.
I watch him click his fingers briefly and the fire place roars to life.
My eyes flick to the flames but I quickly squish them shut. Don't get distracted by a simple trick.
Emmett is silent. He's giving me a chance to fire a shot, to prove my point. I had to prove we could have a polite conversation that didn't end up about business or money or control.
"Mr. Ransom, do you like mangos?" I ask, feeling rather smart about my question.
Emmett is even shocked by it, but I think he's just reacting about how stupid the question is. He raises a brow. Oh my god. Try again. He doesn't even want to answer it.
"Um. Philosophy," I blurt out, while I still have the chance, "Money doesn't buy happiness -?"
Shit. I want to kill myself.
I mentioned money. I did!
I'm actually a bimbo. An actual fake bimbo, but an actual bimbo -
"I disagree," Ransom responds quietly but he is also trying to keep in a satisfied smirk. He doesn't even have to say anything else, because - "7." and I didn't address him correctly.
That number, softly spoken, has my pussy gushing because of his confidence and the sexy control in that statement.
"Fuck. Forget that part of the conversation, Ransom," I raise my chin, but looking at this model billionaire, sat before his fireplace, in his penthouse, with his violet and azure eyes staring at me, waiting for me to fuck up again, while his abs are rock fucking hard - my brain kept thinking about the fact I just grabbed his cock just a few minutes ago -
"Watch your language, Cherry... you've got a loose tongue," Ransom is not impressed.
When he scolds me? I'll admit. I kind of want to rip his face off. Kind of.
I can't help myself, "Bad language isn't a part of the bet, Ransom. Why are you such a fucking prick?" I snap it, my defence for feeling humiliated kicking into gear.
"Outside of the bet, if you keep swearing like that, you will be permanently fired," Emmett smiles.
"I just hate how you just sit there patiently waiting for the conversation to be over, just so you can whip me 7 times," I snap this as well, "You're literally a psycho, and I don't know why I'm not screaming. I'm apparently really stupid," I shake my head, "I'm so stupid," I glare at the rug and I pick at it with my nails, lightly.
"8."
"Fuck."
"9 and you are fired permanently," Ransom isn't even amused anymore. I glance up, shaking my head, I open my mouth to blurt out more, but I keep digging my own grave, "...you can do better than that, Cherry. I'm listening. Open ears."
Shithead.
Rubbing in how he was winning.
I inhale deeply.
I close my eyes.
I can do this.
Give it one more shot before you crack the shits.
"Okay... Ransom..." I exhale just as deeply, keeping my eyes shut so I'm not distracted by his villainous patience. Cheryl. Start from base 1, "Nice weather, isn't it?"
"Yes," Ransom looks past me at the rain and then back at me. I blush deeply. But, I'm surprised he continues his response, "Do you want to shower, to warm yourself after standing outside in it?"
"No," I answer, quickly, "I don't need a shower."
And I wouldn't have one just for his sick pleasure -
"10," Emmett smirks. He tricked me.
"I don't like you," I blurt out, "Ransom."
"It's not me you don't like, it's the discipline."
"Discipline, you mean like getting whipped? I don't need to be whipped... R-Ransom."
Now we're talking about control. Fuck.
"Try again, Cherry, time's running out," Emmett is starting to look impatient and a bit annoyed by my sentences.
"Okay. What sport do you like? Football? Tennis? Ransom?" I ask.
"...personal fitness..." Ransom answers, carefully, "If you couldn't tell."
I'm lost for words, until I realise I'm probably going to lose. I can't get my mind on straight. Not after I touched his dick. My blood wasn't in my brain. However, I was not going to get whipped or fucked tonight.
So, back up plan?
I make one on the spot.
"Fine. I give up," I breathe, "I'm afraid if I keep going it'll be more than 10 and... I don't know if I can even take more than 1 whip lash. So, it's better I surrender the bet now. I'll take the... the whipping... a sexy whip, I assume? Not a real whip?"
"Of course not," Ransom shakes his head, "...but it'll still hurt like hell. Don't hold in what you feel... scream if you have to..." Ransom gets consumed in his victory, standing up, while I nod obediently and watch Emmett look over his shoulder to the rest of his penthouse, "I'll be one minute, Cherry."
"...yes... Mr. Ransom..." I whisper it, bitting my bottom lip.
Emmett turns to me and catches me hugging my knees to my chest. He sends me a satisfied smile and then turns to fetch the whip. I wait for him to turn a corner and then as soon as he is out of sight, I launch into action.
I lunge for his pants, I take out his swipe card, I pick up my shirt, my skirt and my shoes, leaving my stockings.
I sprint to the lift, I swipe, I enter the doors, I swipe again. The lift doors close quickly and then I start to dress like a maniac. I quickly pull on my shirt, then my skirt. I don't have much time but my adrenaline helps.
When the lift slows and stops at the bottom, I'm paranoid Emmett Ransom will press a big red button to stop my escape, to lock me in.
But no, the lift opens as I walk out with my shoes in my hand.
I slip on my shoes in the lobby and I run out the doors. I abandoned my bag. My phone. My car keys. But at least I was free from that psycho.
I decide to run all the way back to my college dorm, I don't care how long it takes.
I'm so glad I made a successful escape. I may be dumb as fuck when faced with your half naked body, Mr. Ransom, but I guess I win this round. Ha!
...no.
I shouldn't consider it a 'round' because this was never, ever happening again.
Never ever, never again.
I swear.
I was safe now, after I nearly caved from his good looks. But no, the whole 'Dominant' and 'Master' speech. The whole I'm a brat that needs lessons... to tweak my attitude? That was crossing a fucking line. The you're-officially-a-psycho line.
Besides, Emmett barely knew me. I barely knew him.
I was never going back, I had no reason to and I would buy a new phone and get a loan to pay off his 'repair' bill for his car's bumper if he was prick enough to send me the bill after all this.
As long as I was safe; that was worth everything. Emmett Ransom could suck my fucking feet - he wouldn't trick me again. If anything, I'd report him to the police if I had to.
Who cares, anyway. I'm safe now. I'm free.