Lauren's black car awaited Jasmine as she came rushing out of her apartment. She stumbled a bit along the way, still unaccustomed to the six-inch black heels she was wearing. The driver opened the passenger door for her and she crawled inside.

"Much better," Lauren sang. "Marcel does wonders, doesn't he?"

"He does, thank you so much, Lauren, I—"

"Hush, you've got to stop thanking me. This is work. And I won't have anyone who works for me looking like they came from some face-painting booth or something."

Jasmine pressed her lips together, deciding that Lauren probably didn't mean to come off the way she did. She was just a blunt person. As they made casual conversation, Jasmine couldn't keep herself from stealing occasional glances at her as she spoke.

"So, Jasmine, tell me about yourself."

"Oh, well, what do you want to know?"

"Hm, what kind of boys do you like?"

"Um, well..."

"Don't think too hard, I'll know you're lying to me."

"I dunno, I just wasn't expecting the question."

"You have a man though, right? What's he like?"

Jasmine's gaze wandered off as she thought about him: the first time he pulled her close to him with his sharp hard stare that peered into her soul, and when his lips pressed against hers it made her fall to pieces in his hands. Underneath the pouring shower, she lost control of herself in his strong arms, and then he pressed her against the tiles and entered her. It was the first time she ever came.

"Um, he's nice. He's a really sweet guy who takes care of me," she said about Michael.

"Does he make a lot of money?"

"Um, no, but it's okay. He does okay—"

"Dump him."

"Why?"

"Because he's not what you want."

"What do you mean?"

"It's in your eyes, I can tell. You try to hide it, but it's obvious, really. At least to someone like me. There's something dark inside you. It's okay. Some of the most beautiful things in this world are very dark. What's holding you back is that you suppress that side of you. I bet you masturbate yourself to sleep every time hubby doesn't finish you."

"Lauren! Um!" Jasmine's face had gone completely red. "I don't do that!"

"So you cheat on him. There's another guy."

"No!"

"A girl?"

"Nooo!"

Lauren licked her lips slyly. "Hm, fine, whatever. I think the lady doth protest too much," she giggled.

They reached the docks, which were illuminated by the rows of yachts along the shore. The two women stepped out of the car, and Lauren swiftly took Jasmine by the hand.

"You didn't tell me the party would be on a yacht," whispered Jasmine.

"Don't tell me you get seasick."

"Maybe a little."

Lauren's face radiated with a brilliant, charming smile as she climbed up the tiny bridge to the yacht and was immediately greeted by some of the men aboard. It was a face that Jasmine hadn't yet seen.

She was slow to follow Lauren aboard. Instead, Jasmine stood on the dock, rubbing her bare arms to stave off the chills from the ocean breeze.

"There you are." A familiar voice called to her. He grinned with his perfectly framed jawline that was sharp and disarming. Her expression softened, though she averted her gaze to her toes.

"Come on, I want you to meet the shareholders."

He caught her eyes. Although she tried to wave an ambivalent hand in weak protest, before she knew it, Mr. Lockhart had taken it into his as they climbed back aboard the yacht. The music played softly, as people stood around drinking and chatting and laughing. Underneath the pervading insecurity, there was an ominous feeling that to Jasmine, felt much more tangible. The in and out feeling of being watched, like the flickering of a little candle, was amplified in this orangey haze beneath the starlight.

"Mr. Lockhart..."

"Please. Call me 'Eric.'" He kissed her on the cheek, stopping at her ear to whisper, "thank you for coming, you look gorgeous, Jasmine, truly." It set her cheeks on fire.

His eyes were warm and stable, they beamed into hers. She followed his lead, commanded by his imposing presence, and he guided her with his large palm positioned firmly on the small of her back. For an instant, she was reminded of her father.

"Champagne?" the waitress interrupted.

Mr. Lockhart picked up a glass, put it to his lips and tilted it back.

"I'd love some," Jasmine agreed, taking a glass of her own.

"I've got a few people I'd like you to meet," he said, leading the way as they navigated the floor.

She glanced upwards to the second level, and immediately she was caught by the sharp gaze of her boss, who had no doubt seen all that had transpired. And yet, she did not react the way Jasmine anticipated. Lauren cordially nodded her head, and then let her attention drift back to the proceedings on the upper deck.

"Eric, my dear friend," came a gravelly voice from the small crowd.

"Mikail," he answered warmly, reaching out to pat the man on the arm.

"I was wondering how long you would keep me in suspense. And who is this charming, young woman?"

"Mikail, I'd like you to meet Jasmine. Jasmine, this is Mikail. He's the head of Neuroscience at the most highly-regarded university hospital in the nation." They shook hands.

Another woman approached; a dark-haired woman in her forties with taut glowing cheekbones and crimson lips. Behind her was another man, with his hair slicked back. He sported a nicely fitted navy blue jacket and a matching tie.

"This is Angelina. And this is Xavier, both titans in their respective industries."

"You're too kind, Eric," the man replied with an indulgent smirk.

"If you'll please excuse me for a moment." Eric departed for the kitchen, leaving Jasmine to fend for herself for a while.

"You should watch out for that one," Mikail whispered ominously.

"Huh? Excuse me?" balked Jasmine.

"That one is a troublemaker!" he cackled, a bit louder so the group could hear. "He is far too handsome, he makes me look bad!"

"Oh, Mikail, no need to be jealous!" teased Angelina. "Besides, I'm sure our new acquaintance is here for reasons that are strictly professional."

"I'm sure," crooned Mikail. "So then, Ms. Jasmine. How did you come to meet Mr. Lockhart?"

"Well, I—"

"Here we are," announced Mr. Lockhart, returning with two glasses of bubbling champagne. "Have I missed much?"

"On the contrary, you returned rather quickly." He nudged Jasmine delicately with his elbow. "He must've been worried that the old charm would steal you away."

Jasmine offered an uneasy fake laugh. Eric handed Jasmine a glass, and then took a sip from his. She imitated him.

They spent some time chatting, sipping champagne. Before she knew it, Jasmine's glass was empty. John caught her glassy eyes, as her pupils began to separate from each other.

"Can I get you another glass?"

"Um..."

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Um, yeah," Jasmine said, as she shook her head.

"Are you sure?" asked Xavier with a slight smirk.

"Um, where's your bathroom?"

"Up the stairs, and on the left."

"Thanks." She quickly scurried off, leaving Mr. Lockhart shrugging his shoulders.

"Maybe I should go check on her."

"I think you should," simpered Mikail. "Have fun." Angelina rolled her eyes. Xavier concealed his toothy grin with his champagne glass pushed to his lips.

"Where are you going, babe?" Jasmine heard a voice call from outside the bathroom door.

"Lauren," she gasped. "It— it's not what you think. He—"

"Came onto you? Yeah. Powerful men like my dad tend to do that." Lauren sauntered up to Jasmine, taking her hips gently in her hands as she was so adept at doing.

"The question now is what do you plan to do? Scurry away like a scared little girl? Or, " she cooed as she pecked Jasmine on the cheek.

"Do you plan to step into your power and take control?"

"I don't understand."

Lauren wrapped her arms around her, pausing about an inch from her face to gaze into Jasmine's eyes as she began to melt. This time she went all the way. Her lips were soft. Her tongue was commanding. Jasmine felt like her body was engorged in a fire. Lauren tore at her dress before pulling hers down as well.

The garters that draped down from her black panties held fast to the stockings that barely concealed her slim thighs, and her high heels accentuated her taut calves.

She had a supernatural way about her, how she could mesmerize and constrict one within her decadent snare. It unraveled Jasmine's perception as easily as she undid her bra strap. She raised her arms as Lauren took her fingers and ran them down her back. She put her lips close enough to her neck that she could feel the puffs of air from her nose, then she seized Jasmine's wrists and denied her just to tease. Her slender fingers, like the legs of a black widow, crept across the side of her face; tickled her ear. She flipped her hair and inched forward, coming just close enough for their noses to meet once again. Jasmine's knees buckled with mouth open and labored breath as she straddled Lauren's thigh. Her heart began to pound even harder, consumed by her voracious lust, grinding her panties against her leg and her hips rocking back and forth. Lauren peeled her away, instead pulling her panties to the side to allow her fingers to do the work.

"Go to the bedroom," Lauren cooed.

Although she tried to wave an ambivalent hand in weak protest, before she knew it, Lauren had taken it into hers as he guided her out of the bathroom and all the way back to the master chamber.

Before knocking on the door, she looked over her shoulder for Lauren once more, but she had already returned to the party.

Her phone was buzzing in her purse. She quickly glanced at the screen. It was Michael. She put her phone back in her purse and sealed it shut, as the door to the master chamber opened abruptly.

"Jasmine,"said Mr. Lockhart. He took her hands.

"Mr. Lockhart. I'm so sorry for leaving your party so abruptly. Oh god, I'm sure now everyone is going to think I'm some drunk party girl."

"Oh no, of course not, Jasmine. It's me that should apologize. But from the moment I saw you in the lobby of my company, I knew I needed to be with you."

She felt confused, drunk; her heart was pounding. To be chosen,over thousands of other girls, by a billionaire, her lips wanted to break free and betray a guilty grin.

"Can you forgive me, darling?"

"Yes," she softly whined.

He guided her to the bed and laid her down, placing one foot in between Jasmine's legs as she gazed up at him with a helpless look and her plump red lips fixed in an innocent pout. As he pulled down her dress, Mr. Lockhart examined every little feature with his sharp discerning eyes before finally commanding her with strokes of his gentle, yet dominating fingertips, directing her motion like a puppeteer guiding the strings of a marionette.

He began sucking on her neck. Jasmine lost herself in the smell of his cologne and the soft bristling of his beard against her bare skin. He encircled her wrists with his large hands and pinned them against the bed. She arched her back and felt herself crawling backwards along the bed as she felt him pressing to enter her, and she could resist the temptation no longer. Her cheeks had turned hot red. She waved an ambivalent hand in front of her. Finally, her fingertips met Mr. Lockhart's chest. She let her palm press against it. To resist, to surrender, to resist, to surrender.

The blazing late morning light burned the side of her face, and jolted her from her heavy slumber the next day. Jasmine lay there coiled in a mass of covers, letting her eyes travel up and down the unfamiliar room. She felt the silk sheets on her bare skin, as her fingers automatically went searching for her bra, dress, panties— anything. She sat up, now fully awake with head throbbing, and frantically searching her memory for what she knew she wouldn't be able to find. From her naked skin erupted a million goosebumps. The horrific realization had begun to set in.

Last night, I fucked Lauren's dad.