Claimed Harder by Em Brown
Chapter 14
BRIDGET
Past
Last night, I managed to work on my paper a little more after using the wand for Darren. And since Amy was probably spending the night at JD’s place, leaving me the room to myself, I actually used the wand before going to bed. The orgasms don’t engage my whole body the way sex with Darren does, but they still feel great, and they come fast. Usually it takes me twenty or more minutes to masturbate myself to the end. The wand cuts that time in quarters, and the orgasms are stronger.
The next day, I think through what I would say to my internship supervisor, Linda Rosen. I can’t believe I’m actually asking for time off to go to Thailand. It’s crazy. I don’t do this kind of stuff. To make sure I haven’t lost a screw, I call Coretta, a woman I trust second only to my grandmother.
“So there is a man in your life,” Coretta says. “I thought I sensed something.”
I’m sure I didn’t say anything during my last call with Coretta that would suggest that I’m seeing anyone, but maybe she has a sixth sense.
“He a student at Cal, too?” Coretta asks.
“He’s actually a few years older,” I answer as I sit before my desk with one foot on my chair. “He went to UCLA.”
“By a ‘few years older,’ how many are we talking about?”
“I’m guessing five.”
“That’s a little more than a ‘few,’” Coretta teases.
“Maybe four.”
“And what does he do?”
“He owns a club in the city.”
“How’d you meet?”
I tell her the story of how Darren and I first met and how I ended up throwing my drink in his face.
“Well, your grandmother probably wouldn’t have approved of throwing drinks at people,” Coretta commented, “but it sounds like this young man deserved it.”
“He admits he did.”
“Good. So how did he win you over?”
I think for several seconds. “He let me teach him how to boil an egg.”
“You’re telling me he doesn’t know how to boil an egg?”
“Actually, I don’t know a lot of guys who know how to boil an egg. I bet the majority of guys in college don’t know.”
“You might be right about that. Especially in your generation.”
“And Darren has a unique excuse for not knowing. His meals are made for him by his chef.”
“Goodness. Are you saying he’s rich?”
“He’s not like anyone I would ever think to find myself dating. He’s a businessman, he is rich. Born that way, I’m assuming, because he grew up in Atherton. We are so unalike, really. And not just because we’re on different ends of the socioeconomic scale.”
“There’s truth to ‘opposites attract.’”
“I guess. It feels strange and right at the same time. But I really don’t know him well enough. And then he invites me to Phuket, Thailand—”
“To where now?”
“Thailand.”
“Your guy invited you to Thailand. The country Thailand?”
I laugh. “When he first said Phuket, I thought he was referring to a restaurant.”
Coretta is quiet. “That’s a far place to go.”
“I know. My roommate, Amy, is dating his cousin, and she was invited, too. I mean, maybe flying off to Thailand is no big deal for them, but it is to me.”
“Your mother would be jealous.”
“And I am not my mother.”
“Going to Thailand doesn’t make you your mother.”
“I know. And unlike my mom, I have responsibilities that I take seriously. Class and work. Darren insisted I could work it out, and he’s right that I probably could. But should I even try?”
“Hmmm. How badly do you want to go to Thailand? And can you trust this guy?”
That’s the key question. And what does it say about me if I go?
“I think so,” I answer. “But how well can you know a guy after just a few weeks?”
“He must be head over heels for you to be asking you to Thailand.”
“You’d think, but that’s not the sense I get from him.”
“Then why’d he invite you to Thailand?”
“Because he wants company, and he’s interested in me at the moment.”
“What does your gut say?”
“That I can trust him, but it doesn’t seem reasonable to fly halfway ’round the world with someone I barely know. What do you think Grandma would say?”
“Well, she might feel like I do, which is a little nervous since I don’t know the guy, but she’d also be happy that you have the opportunity to experience a trip to Thailand. He’s paying, right?”
“Yeah. No way I can afford to go otherwise.”
“Your gut ever steer you wrong?”
I ponder the question. “Not really.”
“And you said your roommate’s going, too?”
“She’s very excited.”
“And her family’s letting her go?”
“I think she’s going regardless. Would you go?”
“Well, the farthest I’ve ever traveled is Florida. Still, my life is complete, with or without a trip to Thailand. But it is exciting. Like winning a big prize on a game show.”
“I’m not going to mourn the opportunity if I don’t go,” I consider aloud. “Who knows, this may not be my only opportunity to go.”
After talking with Coretta, I’m a little less sure about Thailand. I decide that if Linda doesn’t go for it, I won’t go.
But Linda, a woman in her early fifties with tight curly hair and librarian glasses, is enthusiastic. “Who is this guy?”
“The cousin of a guy my roommate’s dating,” I reply as I run documents through the scanner.
Linda sits down at my computer. “What’s his name? Where does he live?”
“Darren Lee. San Francisco”
She types both into Facebook. “Is this him?”
I look at the photo of a Caucasian man. “Darren’s Asian. He runs a nightclub, The Lotus.”
“This isn’t him,” Linda murmurs, looking at the profile pic of an older Asian man. “Your guy has a Facebook account, right?”
I shrug.
“Oh, wait, your generation is more on Instagram or Snapchat, right?” Linda asks as she types in “The Lotus” and “San Francisco.”
No direct results. There’s a restaurant by the same name, but it’s not in the city.
“How can a business not show up? Is it brand-new?” Linda asks.
“It’s been around a few years.”
Linda searches Yelp but finds nothing. She does a broad internet search for Darren Lee and The Lotus, then Darren Lee and San Francisco, and The Lotus and San Francisco.
“It’s like your guy and this club don’t exist,” Linda murmurs.
I look over her shoulder. “Try UCLA. That’s his alma mater.”
The search turns up his name in a list of graduates for the Economics Department four years ago but not much else.
I have an idea and pull up Instagram on my phone. I type in Kimberly Park. Sure enough, she has an Instagram account chock-full of selfies showing off her amazing body. Scrolling through her account, I find a photo of her and Darren.
“That’s him with his ex-girlfriend,” I say, showing my phone to Linda.
Linda pulls her glasses down her nose to see the photo better. “Oh, wow, he’s hot. You’ve got to go to Thailand.”
“But we have grant applications to work on,” I reply.
“A trip to Thailand. A super-sexy guy. What more do you want? In fact, with a guy like that, it wouldn’t matter where we went. If he wanted to hang out at a quarry, I’d say, ‘hell, yes.’”
“I could work on the applications remotely as long as there’s internet access,” I say.
“I know I said I wanted to find the funds for our food recovery vans as soon as possible, but an extra week is not going to make a huge difference. You should go.”
Linda was my out if I decided against going. After Linda and her assistant leave for the day, I stay behind, trying to get as much done as possible. A little after six, I get a call from Darren.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“Working at my internship in Oakland,” I answer.
“You had dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you in downtown Oakland?”
“Near Lake Merritt.”
“I’ll pick you up in twenty then.”
He just assumes I’ll have dinner with him? That I don’t have somewhere to be?
Truth is, I was just going to head back to Berkeley and read through some case studies for my health policy class or work on a problem set for statistics. And I have to have dinner at some point.
So I say okay and give him the address before hanging up. When I walk out of the office building later, I see him and his Porsche waiting for me. He looks devastatingly sexy in his leather jacket and form-fitting jeans.
“That’s a familiar outfit,” he remarks of my black jeans, boots, and sweater.
I smile. “I’ll wear it often, just for you.”
He opens the passenger door for me. “What do you feel like for dinner?”
I think for a moment. “Soul food. How about Maybelle’s?”
He plugs Maybelle’s into the GPS. “So you work it out yet with your internship about going to Phuket?”
“Yes.”
“Great. You’re all set then.”
I hesitate.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
I turn my body to face him. “I’d like to go, but I want to pay my fair share.”
He raises an eyebrow. “How well does your job shelving library books pay?”
“That’s just it. I can’t really afford this trip.”
“And I told you I’ve got this.”
“But you shouldn’t have to.”
“Look, the villa is paid for. It doesn’t cost extra to have you there. If you want to pay for your meals, fine.”
“There’s the plane ticket.”
“That’ll probably set you back about 20K.”
“What?!”
“I booked a suite. It’s an international flight.”
Turning back around, I sink into the car seat and stare out the front window. Holy crap. That’s more than a year’s tuition.
I let out a breath. “Okay, that is way too much to be paying for. I don’t need a suite. I’m perfectly fine flying coach.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re not flying in one end of the plane while I’m in another.”
I calculate in my head, “On a payment plan of a hundred dollars a month, it would take me almost four years to pay you back.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am. I can’t let you treat me to a twenty-thousand-dollar flight.”
“Why the hell not?”
“That’s more than some men spend on their fiancées.”
“It’s all relative. It wouldn’t bother me taking a woman I met off the street to Thailand.”
I’m not sure how that makes me feel, though I think he means to reassure me.
“Anyway, I’m not that type of woman,” I say.
“What type of woman?” he returns, sounding a little exasperated.
“The kind that likes to be wined and dined by some sugar daddy.”
“I told you how you can pay me back.”
My cheeks grow warm. I had forgotten about that. “So you want me to prostitute myself for the trip.”
“You’re the one who wants to pay me back.”
I try to remember exactly how we had left it. “You wanted one night at your club?”
“I said one, but I’m up for more.”
I shift in my seat. “For twenty thousand dollars, I probably owe you more than just one night.”
He grins. “You said it, not me. I won’t argue with you on that.”
I sigh.
He shakes his head. “Why is this so fucking hard for you?”
“Because I don’t get invited to Thailand. Ever. And the most I’ve ever paid for a plane ticket is three hundred dollars for round-trip economy with change fees and no refunds.”
“You said you would make Phuket work.”
I cross my arms and avoid his gaze. “That was said under duress and in the heat of the moment.”
“So you’ll say anything during sex?”
My blush deepens. No. That doesn’t happen. Only with you.
“I guess we could do a combination of the BDSM club and a payment plan,” I murmur.
He pulls the car into a parking spot and turns off the engine. Unbuckling, he turns and grasps my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “You’re going to Thailand. My way. And you’re going to enjoy it. No more of this payment shit or I’ll spank you right here in the car.”
He’s serious. I shouldn’t let him get away with making threats like that. And yet…it sounds kind of sexy when he says it. Already I feel a warm tingles in my body.
I am in so much trouble.
