RUBY

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That no good, grimy, full of herself, jerk.

I shove my foot into my Converse and repeat with the other foot. Saturday night, after being pushed in a cab by one of Satan's goons, I went back to my dorm room and debated how I was going to tell my best friend she was about to be barred from joining the sisterhood of the she-devils. Why did I have to go all Professor BDSM last night and act like I knew anything about sex clubs? I barely finished reading the Shades of Whatever series, let alone have any knowledge of what goes on in them. And I don't think those books had anything to do with sex clubs in the first place! Gah!

I grab for my jacket, taking a quick glimpse in the mirror. Today, I feel more myself dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a worn Stone Temple Pilots t-shirt that hangs over my shoulder, exposing my black tank top strap.

I'd love to deny it, but when I got home, I did exactly as she instructed and ripped off that dumb dress and threw it down the hall for whoever lent it to Jisoo to claim. If she knew what was good for her, she would leave it there too. Not that I cared what that asshole said about me in it. I partially agreed with her. I looked like a fool. Dressed up like a doll in something that was far from the person I was. As I laid in bed debating how to fix the shit storm I got myself into, my thoughts kept going back to her. Every time I tried to sleep, her eyes would haunt me. I can still feel the heat from where her large palm touched my back. See the way her expression turned to stone when I stood up to her. I smile at the way I struck a nerve. Good.

But then I remember the hurtful way she spoke to me. The way she described me. In all its truthful, sad glory. I wanted to take a good swing at her for being so hateful and rude. But she was just speaking the truth. That's exactly who I was. Plain. Boring. My auburn hair sits flat, unlike that blonde she-devil that has bounce for days. I don't wear makeup 'cause it most likely wouldn't help, and I don't bother too much with my wardrobe because let's be real, I'm a stick. My mom was a stick. And her mother…

I wasn't bred to have those curves guys want. If I were honest, my shirt is hanging off my shoulder, not by style, but by inconvenience of my thin shoulder bone.

The way she spoke down to me still didn't hurt any less. Or the way she looked at me, as if I'm so hard on the eyes, she couldn't take another second of me in her presence. Not to mention she was a jerk and I didn't get the contract. I tossed and turned all night. Jisoo's going to hate me. She wanted this so bad, and I'm taking it from her.

I could google a contract. Make one up. I could just fess up and say I lied and beg them not to take it out on my best friend who wants nothing more than to join the blood-suckers. Or…I could go back. And as I jammed my arms through my worn pleather jacket, I knew I was going to regret any option I settled on.

I look at the time, and guilt washes over me as I watch the clock hit three in the afternoon. For my plan to work, I have to ditch my Monday afternoon Human Ethics class. I message my professor, telling him I'm not feeling well and I'll do what it takes to make up the time. If I enter the club during the day, I'll hopefully hit the cleaning crew, then I can pretend to be one of them and get my ass into Lisa's office.

I was smart enough to watch her bodyguard type in the code for the elevator, and I had to roll my eyes at the triple sixes. How cocky can one person be? I wonder if she saw through my lies when I told her she was nothing to call home about. She was far from unattractive. Her height was domineering at way over six feet, and there was no hiding how fit she was by the outline of her button-down dress shirt. Her dark hair was perfectly styled, and those eyes…their color was indescribable. One may call them hazel, but it doesn't do them justice. Amber would be the best way to describe them. The way they seared into me. In my dream last night, they looked at me with need. Lust. Her strong hands didn't shy away like they had in her office. They touched me in places that have yet to be sought.

I shake off the crazy. I do not need to be daydreaming about the son of Satan and her asshole ways. I need to get in her office and get that contract without getting caught. My friendship with the only friend I have at the moment depends on it.

I take a cab downtown and walk the five blocks to the unincorporated bar district. The club is located on the outskirts of town but isn't difficult to find. Without a sign, it's hard to locate again, but then I recognize the alley I got thrown out of.

I have no problem getting inside. The way I'm dressed, I fit right in with the cleaning staff. I walk back to the private elevator and enter in the code, which it accepts. My brows rise in surprise when I turn the doorknob to her office and it opens without resistance. I was prepared to jimmy it but turning the knob and gaining entry is a plus. I enter her office, and the smell of her surrounds me. It pains me to admit it, but the scent is so strong and enticing, I want to capture some of it and take it home with me. It's a shame the owner of the alluring scent is a jerk. I brush it off and make my way straight to her desk. She has to keep them in here. I start with the middle drawer, and nothing.

"Dammit."

I try the side drawers, all with the same conclusion. Pulling a bobby pin from my ponytail, I kneel, placing my face close to the lock. I stick the pin inside and use another pin to wiggle the side of the—

"It's a new desk. Meant to withstand a measly hairpin."

At the sound of the familiar voice, my whole body jumps, and I bash my head into the desk. "Crap!" I yelp, dropping my pins as I grab for my poor nose.

I look over, and holy mother Mary and baby Jesus in a manger. My mouth parts as air whooshes from my lungs. She's soaking wet—from a shower or sweat, I'm not sure. The room starts to feel too small, and my skin starts to feel too hot as I take in her slicked back hair, the shirt clinging to her skin, and the shorts sculpting to her…fuck! She's a gp girl! The devil should always steer clear of Celine and definitely work in basketball shorts. I gulp and jerk my gaze up, the bruise surely forming on my face almost forgotten. When I meet her eyes, my hands start to tremble. I'm in real trouble.

"You have five seconds to explain yourself. Then I'm calling security."

I stand up, throwing the loose strands of hair behind my ear. I'm not really sure what to say, so I blurt out the first thing I can think of. "I told you. I need that contract."

"And I told you no." Her voice echoes through the room. Nope. No hiding her anger. I'll admit, she has me rattled. My knees are shaking, and my palms begin to sweat. Her deep frown and dark eyes are eating me whole as they stare me down giving me more than enough reason to be a little freaked out, but if I show her she intimidates me, it'll only make matters worse. So, I inhale a large breath and lift my chin.

"Well, I don't accept your answer."

Stupid, stupid girl, I silently curse myself.

It's as if watching a match light, setting the fire blazing in her eyes. She takes the towel from her hand and tosses it to the side of the room. One step, two steps, three…shit. I think she's going to try to strangle me. Four steps, five… Yep, she's going to strangle me. I take a retreating step and trip backward into her office chair.

"So brave you are." The words move from her lips, but I can't take my eyes off hers. They have mine locked, fearing her every move. And with each step, my pulse picks up. She oozes sex. Power. Domination. "You think you can just come into my club, break into my office?"

"Well, technically the door wasn't locked—"

"And just take from me?" Her voice raises just enough to send a heatwave of goose bumps down my spine. There's no time to react when my feet leave the ground as I'm lifted. Her rough grip digging into my hips confirm she's less than happy with me. I'm positive she's about to toss me through the glass window when she whips us around, sits in her chair, and throws me over her lap. "You know what happens to little foul-mouthed girls who think it's okay to talk that way to me? To disobey me?"

I squirm under her tight hold. "What are you doing! Let me go!" I yell, trying to climb off her lap. Her thighs are hard as stone, and I can smell sweat mingling with the cologne I remember from last night. "Seriously, Psycho Satan, let me go, or I'll scream."

"Oh, I hope you do. I enjoy a screamer. But I enjoy a stern disciplining even more." Before I can decipher her meaning, she yanks down my loose-fitting jeans, and in one swift move, slaps me hard across my butt cheek. The immediate sting has my teeth clenching.

"YOU—"

Again.

And again.

And again. I attempt to fight under her hold until I find myself pleading "Please, stop." My voice is hoarse. She does as I ask, but her hand still touches me, caresses me, soothes the place where she marked me. Her touch is gentle. Calming. An unfamiliar feeling of wanting more blooms in my belly. My hips squirm in a slow grind over her lap without my consent. Each slide of her hand across the stinging of my flesh shoots bolts of electricity straight to my groin, and there's no mistaking the hardness jabbing into my stomach, spiraling the intensity of…need? Want? Something…more…

"Please," I whisper again, sounding less upset and more…God, I'm not sure. My skin is on fire. I'm confused at the tightness in my lower belly. The way I'm squeezing my thighs together. "Lisa," I say her name, a plea to make me understand.

Her growl echoes in my ears, and I'm no longer in her lap. Her arms hug me as she stands, fusing me to her. Using her free hand, she swipes everything off the surface of her desk to the floor, and my butt lands on top. She grabs my ponytail, locking my hair around her fingers. With a tight squeeze, she forces my head back. Our eyes lock, and without invitation, her mouth is on mine. Her tongue slides inside, not allowing me any vocal time to object even if I chose to. I'm stone-still, my brain having trouble catching up. I'm being kissed. No, I'm being mauled by a woman way out of my league. I seem to have lost my mind, just as she has, because a moan, unfamiliar to me, travels up my throat, and I kiss her back. Her tongue tastes like coffee and mint, and it makes me want to taste more of her. My palms reach out, sliding up her chest.

Her free hand drags my jeans farther down my hips. "Dammit, what in God's name are you wearing?" she demands, pulling my worn jeans hard enough for the zipper to tear. Her strength and determination win over, and my pants fall to my ankles. She kicks them off and presses herself in between my thighs. "Why do you wear such plain clothing?" Her fingers begin to tug at the seam of my panties. There's immediate panic at where she's about to explore and my heart begins to pound. It's been forever since anyone but myself has ventured there, and I quickly begin to pull away.

"Lisa," I plead, but she doesn't let up. If anything, her fingers become more determined, working their way past the thin barrier. "Lisa," I say again, with a little more force. My palms push against her chest as she finds my entrance. The tips of my fingers curl at her intrusion. My lips part just as she ends our kiss and pulls away, placing her mouth on my neck.

"A girl as innocent as yourself shouldn't be here. Especially in the hands of a woman like me." She grazes along my flesh with her teeth. I want to tell her she's right. Push her away and run. At the same time, I want to beg and cry for her to continue until I explode into a million pieces. She begins to use force as she slips one thick finger through my wet folds. With each thrust, her hold on my ponytail tightens. As if she wants to cause me just as much pain as she does pleasure. The feeling is almost euphoric. My eyes squeeze shut, and when I open them, I find her staring at me, her amber irises gone, obsidian in their wake.

"Is this what you wanted?" she continues, stroking me. "Is this what you think happens here?" She adds two fingers this time when entering me. "Were you hoping to get caught so I could teach you a lesson?"

She's trying to work me up. Prove me wrong. I become disobedient under her spell. I attempt to wiggle out of her grip, but she only spreads my thighs wider, planting herself harder against me. Her two fingers become three, and her slow pumps become quick, powerful jabs. Raising my hands, I reach for her hair, grasping tightly. Her hair is thick and still wet between the clutches of my fingers.

"You enjoy giving pain as much as receiving. I'll take note." Her words anger me even more. I want to pull her hair out, but my restraint on her is slowly becoming less trying to hurt her and more of a tool to help hold on to whatever is happening with my body. A feeling of tightness creeps up my stomach. My skin all too quickly becomes overly sensitive, and with each push, shove, dominating thrust, she takes me to such an unfamiliar place. A few more seconds pass and my walls squeeze around her fingers as my own hold her hair for dear life.

All too quickly the moment of pure bliss wanes. Lisa releases me, and I almost tip off the desk. Immediately, she steps away from me, putting ample space between us. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." Her voice is gravelly and deep. She moves to the window and runs her hands through her hair, refusing to look at me.

"It's…okay." Okay? That was the best you had? And really, is it? I have no idea. I'm so confused. She just spanked me, for crying out loud. Was it horrible? Yes. It hurt like hell. Did I totally hate it? I'm afraid to even answer that. The way she coddled my bruising skin once she was done felt overly intimate. Yet, she's a complete stranger. And then what I just allowed to happen…Oh God. My cheeks heat as shame washes over me at the way I so easily allowed her to touch me. A woman who's probably with a new girl every single night. If not more than one. Embarrassed and now feeling the cool breeze against my bare thighs, I jump off the desk and slip my ruined jeans up my legs while willing a hole to swallow me alive.

"I need you to leave." She doesn't spare a glance at me, but her voice is telling. She's back to being mad. I'm not sure she was ever not mad, but now, she's possibly even angrier.

"Not without what I came for," I spit out, trying to button my jeans, but failing at the ripped seam. I'm just as guilty for allowing what happened between us, but I'm certainly not taking that spanking session for nothing. She turns at my reply. Her eyes warm my blood as they penetrate me. "I told you I need that contract. I'll do anything to get it. Which means I'm not leaving until you hand it over."

She stares at me for some time. Maybe I've broken through her thick skull. A few more seconds. God, please just give me the stupid contract and pretend this day never happened. She begins to move, and I flinch, my body tensing. She goes to the bookshelf at the far end of the room, unlatches a hidden compartment, and pulls out a stack of papers.

Yes, yes, yes, yes…

Turning back, she tosses the thick stack onto the desk. "This what you want?"

Yes! "Thank you." I step forward to grab it, but her arm reaches out, her warm fingers wrapping around my wrist.

"Not so fast."

"What, why?"

"I told you before, nothing is free."

Oh crap. "You mean that spanking shit you just pulled wasn't payment?"

She ignores my comment. "You want the contract? Well, I want something from you." I'm not feeling very good about where this is headed. "You'll sign that contract, offering yourself to me for one night. If you fulfill your contract to me, I'll let you walk out of here with it."

Uh, whoa. Hold the phone. "Um, just one minute. I told you before, I'm not some sort of escort."

"And I'm not looking for one."

"Then what the hell? I'm not going to be your sex slave for a night. Just because I allowed"—I wave my hands around as if I'm free falling from a mountain—"whatever just happened to happen, doesn't mean it's happening ever again." Her eyebrows rise in disbelief. Yes, I would. Ugh. My body's still tremoring from what just happened. "Listen. I get it. You don't like me, and I don't like you. I'm sure you actually have no interest in keeping me hostage for a whole night, you're just trying to scare me into leaving. But you don't understand. I…I lied." Her eyebrows rise once again. I go on. "I may have told a little fib to make myself look cooler to a bunch of Barbie wannabes."

Lisa steps forward, crossing her thick arms over her chest. "Explain yourself."

Sounds a lot easier said than done. "I lied and said I was familiar with sex clubs. Sex. All of this." I wave my arms around again. "But I'm not."

"Clearly."

I dart my narrowed eyes at her, hoping she feels the hatred in them. "I'm not here to prove anything to you, Lisa. I just need that contract. They say if I come back with one, proving I've got what it takes to come in here and get one, they'll allow my best friend to pledge."

"This means nothing to me. Why do I care about your friend? Do you want to pledge?"

"Fuck no! But my best friend sure does. And they kinda have me by the lady balls if I don't. They'll ban her, and she'll hate me."

"If she's your friend, she'd understand," Lisa says with a bored shrug.

"Well, she's my only friend. And I can't risk that." I wish I were a better bluffer, but there's no hiding the sadness in my tone. Jisoo will hate me. And I can't risk losing the only person who's truly stood by me. I shrug, brushing off any emotions etched on my face. "Either way, can you just give it to me? There's really no need for me to come back here. Hand it over, and I'll be out of your hair."

Dropping her arms, she steps back into my personal space. "Take it or leave it. My offer won't change. It's up to you how much this friendship is worth. But I'm a busy woman. Give me an answer. Now." She intrudes further into my personal space, forcing me to take a few steps back. When she stops, she leans into me, and I stiffen, unsure of her next move. Reaching over me, she grabs for the doorknob. "What's it gonna be, Ms. Ruby?"

I want to tell her to shove her contract up her ass, storm out of here, and take my chances on Jisoo not hating me. Possibly prepare myself for becoming a loner for the next four years of college. I'm trying to build the mental picture of eating alone every day, but Lisa's cologne, once again, seeps into my nostrils, jarring my concentration on planning my future life of solitude.

"I think you should…" Her arm brushes against my shoulder as she opens the door. "Should…uh…" God, what was I going to say?

"Should what, Ruby?" Jesus, the way she says my name… My skin breaks out into goose bumps.

"Only one night. That's it. Then you hand over the contract."

Lisa steps aside from the door. "Be here tomorrow by nine o'clock. Don't be a second late."

Did I just make a deal with the devil?

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