Wittawin's mind raced as he tried to outmaneuver Teeradon. The young engineer knew that if his opponent was going to play dirty, he needed to be absolutely bulletproof—he couldn't afford to be fooled again like when Sarayoot had forced him to apologize to Teeradon in his office.
"Fine," Wittawin said. "I'll accept membership to your club as you want. Though I have to say, I don't understand why you're suddenly offering me free super VIP membership when it normally costs a fortune. But just to be safe, I want it in writing."
"A card is enough. Just show it to the staff and they'll let you through."
"Who's to say that tonight when I go home, tomorrow when I come back, you won't change your mind and revoke my membership?" Wittawin spoke bluntly.
"Fine. If you don't trust me that much, I'll write you a memo." Teeradon shrugged.
"Not just a memo," Wittawin interjected. "I want a signed contract."
"You're pushing it, Wittawin. A signed piece of paper should be enough." Teeradon's voice hardened as he stepped closer. "Do you want to do this now or not?"
Wittawin nodded, suddenly finding himself enjoying this game. "And besides paying the outstanding amount on the invoice, I'd like to propose that my friend Pamorn also gets membership."
"You're asking for too much."
So you want it in writing? Fine. I'll type it up first, then I'll sign and 'seal' the contract myself. Just wait and see, little monkey...
"The three of us—Baramee, Pamorn, and I—we're close friends. I don't want Pamorn feeling left out watching Baramee and me enjoying your club. He's crazy about this place, and I worry about my friend's feelings. He's my business partner—we've been through everything together since university. I care about my friends deeply."
There it is—my weakness...
I love my friends and worry about their feelings. Which is actually true. I'm deliberately letting Teeradon know this truth. And if Teeradon wants to play game with me, He'll probably go after Pamorn, thinking I'll give anything for my friends. Just like how he used the unsigned check for the system installation and computer repairs to threaten Sarayoot. But I'll coach Pamorn. I'll play a double game. He won't be able to pressure me anymore. Believe me...
"Have a drink with me first," Teeradon said, moving closer and practically forcing a glass of liquor into Wittawin's hand. "Just one glass with me, then we'll go up to my office. You'll get your written contract as requested." He gestured for them to return to the sofa in the center of the room.
"I'll have someone deliver Pamorn's card to your company the day after tomorrow." Teeradon smiled, watching Wittawin's impassive face and holding his breath for a moment as desire suddenly surged through him.
The more he resists me, the more it drives me crazy. I want to pull this young man into my arms, strip his clothes off right now, and admire him to my heart's content...
I want to see that beautiful ass, to know if it matches what I've been imagining. I can't take much more of this...
"Or should I have Pamorn pick it up himself? I'd like to welcome our new member personally." Teeradon laughed softly, then lifted his glass and drained it in one gulp.
There it is. I knew it. I was right to think that. Teeradon is planning to deal with Pamorn...
But he knows too little about Pamorn. No one knows Pamorn better than me. If Teeradon thinks he can play those games with Pamorn, he'll regret it later...
---
Baramee had lost interest when he noticed Wittawin had disappeared upstairs for quite some time. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he headed up to look for his friend, but two giant bodyguards at the Dusitia entrance stepped forward. Despite their polite demeanor, Baramee knew both men were ready to get 'rough' if necessary.
Or if their boss ordered it...
Damn Teeradon. What the hell is he doing to Wittawin?
"I'm here looking for my friend, and you both know I'm also a super VIP member," Baramee said tersely, his hand moving to his pocket, his face tense.
"We know, sir. We recognize every Dusitia member. Right now we're waiting for Mr. Teeradon's orders. We ask for your cooperation, Mr. Baramee. Please wait a moment." The tall, large guard spoke in a flat voice, his face expressionless.
"Are you threatening me?"
"Not at all," the other guard spoke up. "But you're aware that club members are prohibited from bringing non-members without prior approval from management."
"I can still resign from this place, but right now I need to see my friend. Where is Wittawin?" Baramee lifted his chin defiantly.
"Mr. Teeradon is hosting him, sir. He asked us to have you wait."
"Five more minutes. Otherwise, I'm calling the police for unlawful detention." Baramee didn't know what else to do, so he threatened both giant guards, hoping it might reach Teeradon's ears somehow, even though he knew the local police probably couldn't do anything to the owner of such a large and luxurious club.
Money makes everything easy and can always clear everything up. Why wouldn't he know that? In business, his father and he had used this method many times too...
***
Wittawin stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glanced up briefly, then turned to look at Teeradon standing behind him. Teeradon had said he would type up the written contract, but now that they'd reached this point, he found himself oddly hesitant.
"Please, lead the way up," Wittawin said.
"What are you afraid of? Afraid I'll stab you in the back? Kill you to silence you?" Teeradon laughed softly. "Didn't you say you wanted a contract?"
"You lead the way to your office. What's strange about that?"
"I'm afraid you'll run away. You go up first, so I can be sure you won't lose your nerve and turn around and flee." Teeradon's expression hardened as he spoke directly.
"Why would I need to run? I haven't done anything wrong. I've never done anything wrong. I'm always the one being picked on." Wittawin shrugged and quickly strode up the stairs.
I'm not worried about you running, Wittawin. I want to watch your ass as you climb the stairs...
Teeradon smiled slightly, his gaze fixed on the lower half of the young man rapidly ascending the stairs. The fitted white pants made Wittawin's figure even more visible.
God, my hands are shaking. I want to reach out and grab and squeeze so badly. Damn it...