All Chapters of Addicted to Mr. Wrong : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Jazz's POV What just happened now? One minute, I'm standing. The next, I'm on my knees before him and he's gazing at me with proud eyes, biting his lower lips and I'm wishing he'd wrap those hands around my neck again. He wanted to prove a point, to humiliate me and it had worked. Why?! Lord knows I'd never succumbed to a man like this before in my life. It's like he put me in a trance. His voice had been so strict, so stern and forceful, it had turned me into a mindless zombie following his commands. Fuck! “That doesn't count. I was…” I stutter but I have no words to truly defend myself. What kind of spell did he cast on me? “Everybody has a hidden side to them. And the right person, with the right incentives, can tap into that. Don't be so alarmed, Jazz. You're not the first. I can get the right women to do whatever I want," Zeke says. I scoff. “You overestimate yourself.” He eyes me up and down, amused. “Says the girl on her knees.” I just want to smack

Jazz’s POV The bar is busy, noisy. I sit in a corner, nursing the jug of beer I bought with the last cash I had on me. My head hums with drunken dizziness. Underneath the drunkenness, I’m completely furious and overwhelmed. I’m just drinking to drown it all out and forget the last twenty-four hours. It’s been crazy turning down Zeke’s offer just to end up fucking homeless. Betrayed and robbed by my own sister, I’ve lost everything: my home, my belongings, my money, everything! I had nowhere else go to. I had no way of finding Summer. Based on former experiences, I’ll never find her until she decides to be found. She’d spend all that money and reappear when she has nothing left. She’d done this to me a million times over and I fucking hate her for putting me through it again. I down another glass, contemplating my options. I could always call Zeke. I’m sure he’d take me back. I could hit him up and tell him I’ve changed my mind. I’d tell him I was a fucking idiot fo

Jazz’s POV He receives my decision with a mixture of excitement and concern. “Please, Jazz, I’m not worried about that right now. First of all, we need to make sure you are okay. I need you of sound body and mind when you sign the contract. So, sit back and I’ll have my friend, Jason, check you out,” Zeke says. I grab hold of his shirt. “I’m of sound body and mind right now. Where’s the contract? I’ll sign it right now,” I say, a tad too excited. He’d saved me. Again. After last night, he is the only person I want to entrust my life to. I don’t care if he dominates me. I don’t care if he wants to control me. In fact, I want him to control me. After last night? I want him to be my protector. I’m tired of taking care of myself in these streets. I’m tired of putting other people first. For once, I’d like to make my own choice. I’m choosing him for me. Not just for the money but because I need him too. I want to feel his erection inside me, his lips on my body,

Jazz’s POV My belly rumbles. Under the moonlight, he looks like a model straight out of a GQ magazine. In his well-tailored suit, slightly damp hair, he is absolutely gorgeous. I am spell-bound. Arousal builds somewhere deep inside me, spreading out fast and furiously, engulfing every part of my erogenous zones. “So, Jazz, tell me…what makes you tick?” he asks, leaning so close I can smell his cologne. That dangerous mix of sin and masculinity makes my skin tingle with a desperate need for him. I stare, open-mouth. “Um, I don’t…. know…” I stutter. Just the sound of his voice teasing me makes me quake. He tilts his head to the side, observing me intensely. His eyes are darker than the night. Yet, I could see his lust shining in them. “Hmm, that’s interesting. So, you’ve been in a committed relationship for two years and you still don’t know what makes you tick in bed? How exactly was your sex life with that jerk?” Zeke asks. I can feel a fire stirring in

Jazz’s POV Okay, it's confirmed: he is a fucking psychopath and he’ll drive me insane. What kind of psycho wishes to control a woman’s orgasms? How can he bring me so close to orgasm just to deny me the ultimate pleasure? Urgh, I fucking hate him! Right now, I have two options: I could either stand up and leave right away or I could stay and sign the damn contract. Two clear choices – Leave broke and homeless or stay and make some quick cash with this fucking psycho controlling my life and goddamn orgasms. My brain and body engage in a quick tug of war. Logic competing against lust. In the end, lust wins. Or perhaps I’d say self-preservation wins because if I leave right now, I’d be leaving with absolutely nothing! I need money. Hate him or love him, the truth of the matter is…I need him! I flip the contract, my body tingling with anticipation. He smirks victoriously, like he knows he’s got me hooked. I read the first page: AN AGREEMENT MADE ON THIS __