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Needing Her Help

Bethany

The rules were simple, and Damon had barked them out like Bethany was a three-year-old.

No drama.

No lies.

No complaints.

In all dealings with him, those were the standards he set, and she was to follow the rules like everyone else did.

They sat across from one another at the upscale restaurant, Bethany watching Damon as he ordered their food and pulled a black napkin into his lap.

"You didn't even ask me what I wanted to eat."

"Did you want to change the order?" He leaned forward, his gaze heavy and intimidating.

"No, I love crab and could eat cheese until I'm blue in the face."

"Then, hush. You've broken two rules—no drama and no complaints." He winked at her, and she sat back, her hands fiddling uselessly in her lap. The fact that someone could be so handsome and have so much handed to him in life and yet be domineering in a master-slave sense was sickening. He wanted power, and he took it in each and every situation from what she could see.

"Don't overanalyze me, Bethany.
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