“Don’t forget you’re still my slave. That’s why I brought you here.”
“Mm, yeah, to follow you around like a puppy out in public? I don’t think so.”
“Oh?”
“That’s not why you brought me…”
“Then why did you agree?”
He turns to face me, leaning against the wall of the elevator and smirking.
“Because I wanted to be spoiled by you for a weekend.”
Something about the line has me feral, and it takes every ounce of my control to hold back and not tackle him to the corner to kiss him. Thankfully we reach our floor, and the doors open up before I lose control.
“Come on,” I say, stepping off and into our suite.
“Holy shit… and I thought the airplane was nice.”
I pull him to me, so our bodies are flush. I brush his hair away from his forehead, looking him in the eye.
“You’re with me now. You should get used to seeing nice things. Seeing them, having them, experiencing them. I have no problem spoiling you. Had you said it sooner, I’d have done more.”
He licks his lips, his breath coming out in sharp pants.
“Tell me what you want, Cassius. I’ll give it to you.”
“Why?” he whispers.
“Because you’re mine. I’m responsible for you. If you want something, tell me. I’ll do it. No matter what.”
“No matter what?”
“Yes. All you have to do is ask.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cassius
New York City is bigger than I could have imagined. You see it on TV and hear about it… but being here is a whole other ball park. I’m a mix of nerves and excitement, thrilled to experience this while also terrified of so much going on. And this is coming from someone who has visited Chicago often enough.
People are in crowds so thick you can’t walk through them. People in costumes—giant costumes like Pikachu and Batman. There are artists standing on corners with their work, and others making it in real time. The spray paint art is my favorite. People are laughing and having fun, eating and drinking things I’ve never seen before.
“Where is it that we’re going?” I ask, having to speak up because it’s so loud. People walk around blasting music from speakers and trying to hand out CDs. It feels like a circus.
“I told you it’s a surprise.”
I roll my eyes for the umpteenth time tonight. He has refused to tell me what we’re doing all day. It could be something veryboring or it could be something really cool. I guess it doesn’t matter what it is—experiencing anything in New York and with Harmon is a treat—and knowing him itwillbe something good.
“Ambassador? What is this?” I look up at the giant sign of the building we’ve stopped in front of, a line of people running along the side of the building.
Harmon smirks, but that’s all the response I get.
“Oh my god, you’re stressing me out,” I complain. “Can you please tell me what this is?”
“You’ll see when we get inside. Be patient.”
“Patient? Do you even know me?”