Oppose

Vaughn

Carter Preston jolts when I shove the adjoining door open and take the room by storm. He's wearing nothing more than black dress slacks, his untrimmed physique on display from the belt up, and his eyes widen when he sees me.

Not Lola, who he was expecting.

Just me.

"What the hell-"

"You." I point a finger at him, fury on heels, as I make my way across the elegant hotel room. But all I can picture is the image of mascara-laced tears staining Lola's cheeks. The bruises on her upper arms. The ripped lace of her lingerie. "You put your hands on her."

"Well, that's the point, isn't it? My hands on her? My dick in her?" His chuckle is like sandpaper to my eardrums, and his eyes are lasers of suggestion as they take me in. I can see the minute it registers that I'm not here to replace Lola. "Ah, the queen has left her throne."

Queen? More like madam.

"You broke the agreement." I stand my ground despite how his eyes scrape over every part of my body. How they study me. How they want me.His head angles to the side, and his smile slides arrogantly onto his lips, putting the thousands he's spent on cosmetic dentistry on display. "What a good boss. Coming to fulfill what your employee failed to finish?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"I want what I paid for," he says cavalierly, as only a person born into money can.

"You got what you paid for."

"See?" He chuckles and takes a step toward me. "That's where we disagree. Lola ran next door before anything happened . . . so from where I stand, I was shortchanged and overcharged." I control the hitch of my breath when he reaches out and traces a finger down the side of my cheek. "Unless, of course, you'd like to take her place."

My body revolts at the thought.

"Lola ran next door because being rough with her wasn't the agreed upon terms of your contract."

"A little spanking isn't rough." He waves his hand at me in dismissal.

"What you wanted was a lot more than spanking. I have girls willing to do that, but not Lola. There is such a thing as consent, and you clearly didn't get it, nor did you ever ask for it."

"Is this an escort service or a day care?"

My smile is lethal and laced with sarcasm. "You know what this is, and you signed an acknowledgment of the rules and requirements ahead of time." I quirk a brow as I find my footing despite the absolute discord I feel at the moment. "Like I said, I require consent, and you didn't get it."

"I didn't get much of anything"-he runs a hand over his face, and the sound of it scraping over his stubble fills the room-"least of all what I paid for."

"You did get what you paid for. A dinner date."

His chuckle is low and unforgiving. "I paid for a hell of a lot more than-"

"Stop," I shout, needing to cut him off as the realization hits me that this could be a complete setup.

It could, couldn't it?

I stare at him and try to gather my wits in spite of the adrenaline rushing through my veins. Thinking on my feet has always been a strength of mine, and I need it to be right now as well.

Repeat the company line, Vaughn.Tell him what he knows just in case he's recording this to use against you later.

"You paid for companionship. A woman to spend time with you. All money was exchanged ahead of time, so anything agreed upon after the fact was between the two of you," I explain. And yes, I just contradicted myself. I just said that sex wasn't paid for, when moments before I was telling him I required their sex and his need for roughness to be consensual. Lucky for me, he's so distracted he doesn't call me on it.

Our eyes meet. Hold. "Cute. That's how you want to play this?"

"I'm not playing anything," I assert.

"We both know what this transaction included." He takes a step toward me, the shock at my presence now giving way to anger. His sneer turning into an elitist smirk.

"Companionship," I state evenly, although my insides feel like a kick drum is pounding in my veins.

"You think that will fly when I make a phone call to the attorney general about a certain woman named Vee who seems to-"

"Let me stop you right there," I say and lift my hand up to prevent him from speaking and to thwart him from stepping too close to me. "There won't be any phone calls to anyone."

"Then that means either Lola or you will be providing the services I paid for."

"I don't think you're listening to what I'm saying, Senator."

"I'm hearing you all right. It's you who isn't listening." He begins to unbuckle his belt as panic reverberates through me. "I think you forget who you're dealing with here. Don't you know who I am?" A goading smile. A condescending chuckle. "Don't you know I could ruin you? You're nothing but a two-bit whore, Vee, and I'm-"

"Uh-uh-uh," I warn, needing to toughen up despite his words hitting me harder than they should. "You broke the terms of the contract you signed. You're required to pay for the damages."

"I'm not paying you a dime more. In fact, I want a refund or the services I paid for. Besides, it's a bullshit contract."

With my eyes locked on his, I pull my phone from my pocket. "Then that must mean these photos are bullshit too. Right?"

He visibly jars at my words as hiseyes flicker down to where my thumb scrolls across the screen of my phone. "I don't play games," he grits out.

I take my time finding what I need despite knowing exactly where the images are stored. I don't hide my wince when I open the folder marked "Carter Preston" and the first picture fills the screen.

"Neither do I," I murmur as I turn the phone around and show him the image of him with his pants around his ankles in front of an unknown female. A female who definitely looks underage.

His face pales and his eyes widen. The sudden panic that flickers through his expression is fleeting before he puts his practiced politician's face back on so that the righteous sneer owns his countenance again.

"That doesn't show anything. Nice try, though. You might want to tell whoever you pay to collect your dirt that they need to do a better job."

He says the words nonchalantly, but the forced bob of his Adam's apple tells me all I need to know. I've got him right where I want him.

"Do you actually think that's the only image I have?" It's my turn to chuckle as the tables begin to turn. Affluence often comes hand in hand with a false sense of invincibility, and I'm going to have so much fun yanking this rug out from under him. "There's at least fifteen more where this came from, and your face is clear as day in those. I'm smart enough not to show my ace the first hand I play . . . but I forgot, what did you call me? Just a two-bit whore while you're a Harvard-educated prick?"

"You bitch."

"Thank you for the compliment." My smile taunts him in response.

"Sex scandals are a dime a dozen, Vee. You're not successful in politics unless you've had one."

"So your wife won't mind. Other senators? Voters? You think they'll applaud you for fucking underage girls?"

"I'm not scared of you."

We stare at each other like dogs circling, each trying to gain the upper hand. Both trying to find a foothold in the situation.

"Then don't pay for the damages, and we can test your theory." My tone drips with saccharine. "Simple as that."

"Try posting that photo, and I'll bury you with everything I have." He shakes his head and starts to pull his shirt on as if this conversation is over. Arrogant prick."Number one rule: always know who you're working with, Senator."

Carter falters with his arms halfway in his sleeves and meets my gaze. There's a hard glint to his eyes that tells me he revels in playing dirty, and hell if I just didn't bring a dump truck full of dirt to roll around in.

"I wouldn't push me," he threatens.

"Then I guess you better pay up."

"So you have a private investigator, do you?" he asks, changing the subject and leaving me to unscramble where he's going with this. "You think you're the only one in this situation who has information to hold over the other one's head?" He quirks an eyebrow, and a smarmy smirk fails at lighting up his features. "Number one rule and all that."

My nerves rattle violently beneath the surface as our eyes hold and his threat takes hold.

He's bluffing.

He has to be.

No one knows who I am. Where I'm from. What I have at stake here.