It’s a bold move, and I feel almost insane for saying it, but it seems to work. The woman’s face softens slightly, and her eyes sparkle.
“Nothing wrong with a sugar daddy, love. You’ve certainly caught a big fish in something like that. Let me see what he’s put you on.” Before I can react, the woman circles behind me and is fumbling around in the back of my dress. “Ah, Vivienne Westwood. Very nice. He must like you, honey. How often do you let him play?”
“L—let him play?” I’m so far out of my depth here that I might as well be drowning.
“Oh, don’t act so innocent.” She winks. “We may not be attracted to these men, but we have to let him have what they want sometimes! I’ve managed to get my man down to once a week without him complaining and still giving me everything I need.”
Oh, wow. This really is another world. Forget drowning; I’m a fish out of water, and it really must be showing on my face, because the woman purses her lips and looks at me like I’m just the cutest, silliest girl in the world.
“Aw, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?”
“More than you could ever know, Janice.” Baron’s hand closes tightly around my waist as he pulls me to him. I want to fawn all over him for saving me from the most awkward conversation in my life, but at the same time, want to wriggle away from him and run for the hills. “This sweet little thing has no idea the sexual power she possesses, and I’m not sure I want her to know.”
Janice giggles with such delight that it becomes quickly obvious that she’s overdoing it. I guess loyalty isn’t held in high regard among these women. And why would it be?
“Whatever is she doing here?” Janice asks.
“I thought I would do her a favor and invite her,” Baron chuckles. “She spends far too much time looking all frumpy and bored around the house.”
“Frumpy!?” I exclaim. I’ve been doing my best to be as inappropriately sexy around him for a while now and he’s calling me frumpy?
“Giving her a taste of the high-life?” Janice asks with obvious amusement. I’ve never felt more looked down on.
“A taste. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to borrow her from you,” he says with such nobility that I almost wonder if he secretly has a twin, a polite twin, who he’s assigned to spend the night with me while he’s off assaulting other barely-legal women.
“Sure you two don’t want some company?” Janice asks with a sly smile. “I’m a fun gal.”
“I’m sure you are, Janice, but we’re fine for now.”
She hides her disappointment well, and Baron pulls me away and onto the dance floor. I’m seized by a terrible panic as he takes my arms and drapes them around his neck. Oh God, no.
“Relax,” he purrs. “Don’t tell me you’ve never danced with a guy before?”
This is so embarrassing. I pretend to see something interesting across the room, but Baron turns my face back to his. His smile makes me want to shrivel up and die.
“You haven’t, have you? Christ, Pixie, you see? This is my fucking point.”
“Oh, you have a point to all this?” I’m pissed. “And frumpy? How in the world could you call me frumpy—”
“What did you see when you were outside?” he asks.
“Boobs, boobs and more boobs,” I reply flatly. “And some guys with cigars.”
“Bill Clinton vibes, right?” he chuckles.
“What does that mean?”
Baron just shakes his head. “Christ, you really are young, aren’t you?”
“You know I am.”
“True.” He nods. “And I like it.”
Oh, God. I try to pull away, but his grip on my waist is unbreakable. If only I was an X-Man (X-Woman?) or something and I could teleport back home or turn myself into a cloud of smoke and float out the front door.
“What you saw out there were a bunch of girls who have chosen to live their lives in a certain way,” he explains. I don’t like his tone. It’s like a high school counselor who thinks you don’t understand how to make your own decisions yet. “They make a living off their bodies. Submit to men for money and gifts. They call themselves sugar-babies, companions, but we both know what they are.”
“And what’s that?”
Baron smiles. “Prostitutes.”
Ugh, of course the would-be rapist is also a misogynist. I know it’s pointless at this point to try and get away from him physically, so I just look away and make my disdain obvious.
“Oh, you think that’s wrong for me to say?” he laughs. “It’s their body their choice?”
“Something like that,” I reply.
“Is that a life you would like for yourself?” he asks. “Maybe with a guy like Harry?”
My eyes snap back to his as he reignites the anger inside of me. Suddenly, I’m feeling far less vulnerable and wishing I could get my hands on a knife.
“Are you…calling me a prostitute?”
I know he’s an asshole, but I’m still somehow shocked when he just shrugs and smiles back at me. “Let’s see. I’m a rich man, you prance around my house wearing next to nothing, clearly trying to get my attention. If the shoe fits, princess. But I gotta tell you something; you are no Cinderella.”
9
Pixie
“And you’re no Prince Charming,” I spit back, fuming. Still, I keep my voice down. It’s bad enough that I’m here arguing with Baron; I don’t need the rest of the eyes in the room on me.
“No, I’m more like Khal Drogo.” He smirks. “I know what I want, and I take it.”
“Oh, yeah? Bend me over some animal skins and fuck me from behind?”
Jesus, did I just say that? I don’t know where any of this fire is coming from, but Baron’s bringing it out of me. His amusement with me is impossible to hide. It’s almost worse than if
