Instead, he cups my shoulders in his big hands firmly. His grip bites into my skin.
“You onlythinkyou love me,” he says, staring right into me. “You don’t even know who I am.”
I open my mouth. I want to tell him I do know. That I choose him anyway, but before I can get a word out, he throws me over his shoulder like I’m nothing. He bursts into a room and flops me on the bed.
Right away, I know it’s a... sex room. Lots of weird props and dim lighting. Erotic art. He opens a drawer and tosses something at me.
“Put that on,” he orders, his tone darker than I’ve heard from Grayson.
I catch it against my chest and look down. Black, strappy, shiny.
Latex.
I swallow hard and glance over at him.
This is what he wants. The bad girl like Meghan. The kind of woman who would crawl for him.
I clutch the latex tighter to my chest. “I— um... could you turn around?” I ask softly.
He smirks and turns around.
I hold it up. It’s new with tags. I swear I am in a sex factory. I pull off the tags and undress.
Quickly, I learn that latex is hard to put on. Tight. It sticks. It clings. It pulls at my thighs, my waist, my chest.
I have to cram myself into it, sucking in air, tugging, fighting the zipper closed.
When it’s finally on, I glance down at myself.
It rides high on my hips, tight across my waist where the little pooch I hate is impossible to hide. The light shines off the latex, almost pointing at every imperfection.
My palms are sweaty and I’m so nervous.
Gosh, I hope Grayson thinks I look sexy!
But I remember how he would groan when we slept together, kiss me all over like he cherished my body, like it broughthimpleasure just to touch me.
My voice barely rises above a whisper. “Okay. I’m dressed.”
He turns around and the second his eyes land on me, everything in the room feels heavier.
He stops cold.
And the way he looks... Not soft. Not loving.
Hungry.
Mean.
Like he wants to ruin me.
I blush and quickly pose sexy, but I cringe as his eyes gloss down my plucky body.
I’m no Meghan. I’m thick and pudgy.
His jaw flexes, and he licks his lips. “You’re so...” he draws in a breath.
“Sexy?” I squeak.
