I’m completely caught off guard, and my answer is stammered out with a complete lack of finesse. “Um… I have… Um… Well, I’m really not sure—”
The man laughs. I can tell he’s not charmed by me, but takes some pleasure in my embarrassment. His hand goes to the woman’s head, his fingers grasping her hair tightly. He spares her a short glance and growls at her, “Faster,” then uses the grip on her hair to push her roughly up and down on his stick.
Again, it’s extremely weird that he doesn’t seem turned on by any of this but rather seems more interested in embarrassing me because he says, “Why don’t you join us? I’ll let Lila here eat you out while I fuck you from behind.”
I have to suppress the groan of embarrassment welling up inside of me. Not only am I highly offended, but I am also slightly turned on by the prospect of what was just offered. I don’t know if it’s from an abundance of hormones thickening the air or if I just suddenly became susceptible to the wickedness of this place, but for the first time, I wonder if I would ever take up Jerico’s offer to get my rocks off during a slow shift.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Willis,” Jerico growls from behind me. And I mean right behind me, so close I can feel his suit jacket brush against my bare ass.
The man—who is apparently named Willis—uses his grip on the woman’s head to pull her off him, swinging his legs off the couch and placing his bare feet on the floor. He stands up. His dick is wet with lipstick marks and only standing at half mast, so I don’t think the girl was doing a very good job. The man glares at Jerico. “What’s your problem? You never mind your employees joining in the fun.”
Jerico’s voice is low and commanding as well as final. “That’s true, but this one is off limits. Now if you’ll excuse us, I hope you have a good evening.”
And with that, Jerico’s hand comes to the back of my neck. He uses it to turn me away from Willis and pushes me toward the opposite side of the room.
He guides me to the wall adjacent to the entrance door. There are no people congregated here, and it’s fairly quiet away from the drone of lusty moans and slapping sex. With his hand still at the back of my neck, Jerico turns me around to face the pool and the sexual activity going on around it.
“Did you want to join that man and woman?” he asks me softly.
I shake my head immediately, and his fingers squeeze my neck in what I take to be approval.
“But the idea doesn’t turn you off?”
Did he just ask me that?
I feel like my breath has been stomped out of my lungs by the personal question, mostly because I don’t want to tell him the truth. Jerico, however, is not a man who will go unanswered.
“Trista,” he says almost harshly to get my attention. “Tell me the truth… are you turned on right now?”
I shake my head vehemently, giving him a total and absolute nonverbal lie. I’ve been turned on since the moment I stepped out of the dressing room and Jerico looked at my body.
No, strike that. Since I saw him getting pleasured in The Silo room.
Jerico gives a dark laugh and whispers in my ear, “Little liar.”
“I’m not,” I deny, but it sounds weak.
I’m surprised when Jerico’s hand falls from my neck, and he turns to stand right beside me as we look out over the interior of The Waterfall Room. He even casually tucks his hands in his pockets.
“I’ll make you a deal, Trista,” Jerico says.
My head turns in surprise to look at him, but he keeps his profile to me. “What’s that?” I asked hesitantly.
He’s not looking at me, but I can see from the side he’s smirking when he says with utter confidence, “I think you are turned on. Confident, in fact. So if you let me stick my hand between your legs right now and you’re dry, I’ll hand you the other fifteen grand I owe you and you can walk out of here and never come back.”
My heart starts to jackhammer at the thought of Jerico’s hand between my legs, but there is no way I’m ever going to let myself get embroiled with a man like him. Still, you know how curiosity killed the cat and all that, so I ask him, “And what happens if I’m not dry?”
Jerico turns his head to look at me. He’s no longer smirking and his eyes are dark and sinful looking as they bore into mine. “If you’re wet, Trista, I’m probably going to bend you over one of these couches and take care of your problem.”