The Devil’s Pawn Read Online Free PDF Page B

Veronica, a Shelby, an Abigail, a Claudia and an Angela or Emily—I don’t recall which—and then, of course, Liz. She beams at me the whole time, genuinely happy to see me. They each radiate beauty and charm, and they make this life look tolerable. They seem happy and healthy and really okay with themselves, and I wonder if I will be okay someday too.
    But as the memory of the night before floods back into my mind, my optimism fades quickly. The experience was painful and terrifying, and, worst of all, humiliating. And I’m already dreading the next time I see Derek.
    With luck being always against me, the next time happens with that thought. He enters the room and walks casually toward the kitchen. He’s again dressed impeccably in a pair of extremely expensive looking pants and a button-down dress shirt. His collar is unbuttoned, and he makes business casual look so damn good. My body is instantly flushed from head to foot as memories flood my brain. I can so easily remember his knuckles trailing up the back of my thighs, the sound of his breathing, and his glistening fingers beside my own. And while he caused my body an incredible amount of pain that is still fresh in my mind as well, the shiver running through my body is hardly in memory of that.
    As he approaches the table, Liz offers him a good morning, to which he responds in kind, glancing up to her with unfaltering impassiveness. But at seeing Liz, he catches sight of me sitting beside her and freezes mid-stride, locking his eyes on mine as his lips part slightly. Perhaps he’s surprised I’m still here and haven’t jumped ship.
    I suck in a quick breath as I become powerless to look away from him. The memory of his hard arousal invading me the night before suddenly pushes out all other thoughts in my head, and as I look at him, my body tingles. He holds my eyes for too long before his jaw visibly clenches and he moves on toward the kitchen. Yep. He still hates me. He grabs a tin of tea from a cupboard before turning and leaving the common room.
    I don’t breathe until he’s left, and when he’s gone from the room, the comments start.
    “Well, you’ve obviously fucked him.” From Angela or Emily—to be determined.
    “And you obviously made an impression.” From Claudia, the beautiful Asian woman with the shiny, jet-black hair.
    “Honestly, what the hell was that? I’ve never seen Mr. Pennington speechless before. Not really in his nature.” I think … yes, that was from Teresa.
    I say nothing at all, knowing they have no idea what truly lies behind this bizarre encounter, but all continue to eye me speculatively. If they only knew how truly humiliating my first experience was with Derek, they wouldn’t be nearly so intrigued. Let them be intrigued. It’s far better than the reality of the matter. When my coffee is finished, I stand to leave for my room to get ready for my noon appointment with the tailor and gynecologist. As I stand, Liz does too, and she follows me from the room. She walks me to my room and enters after me.
    She asks how I am, worry crossing her face, and I assure her that I’m fine. As I start setting out jeans and a T-shirt, she stops me cold. “You can’t wear that!”
    “Why? I mean I’m just going to the tailor and the gynecologist. Do I really have to wear a dress to see a vagina doctor?”
    She laughs at my sarcasm before continuing. “In fact, you do. You fuck for a living, dear Ashton, so yes, you wear dresses. They keep you easily accessible…”
    “So I’m expected to sleep with the tailor and the gynecologist?” I blurt out incredulously.
    Liz laughs again before continuing. “God no. The tailor is far too gay to care how accessible your vagina is, and the gynecologist is going to have you in a gown far more revealing than any dress we wear within minutes of you arriving. It’s just the expectation.”
    My face falls at this fact, though, and I have to admit, “I don’t have any other dresses other