The A Little Bit Trilogy Bundle: A Little Bit Submissive; A Little Bit Rough; A Little Bit Controlling - A BDSM Erotica Romance by Bebe Wilde Read Free Book Online Page B

would take a unique buyer that I would, personally, have to ferret out. There was no way around the fact that selling it would be a lot of work but the commission would be huge, even at a discounted price. It was unique because of its pedigree, the fabulousness of the finishes, the lot, too, was unique and quite large for this area. It had it all, it was just an odd bird. Odd birds, even in a good market, were a hard sell.
    “Listen I’ve pulled some comps and—”
    “Fuck comps,” he said. “There is no other house comparable to this one because there is no other house like this one.”
    I sighed and bit my tongue. He was going to be a hardass, that was for sure. I crossed my arms and said, “Just tell me what you were thinking.”
    “I would like to have seven,” he replied without missing a beat.
    I thought about that. He didn’t buy it for anything close to that. And the renovations, while extensive, didn’t come close either. He wanted a hefty profit and I understood that. Five or so years ago I could have made it happen. But now? There was no way.
    “It’s more like five,” I said.
    “I won’t take five,” he told me.
    “It’s just what’s happening right now in real estate,” I replied.
    “Forget about that and find the buyer,” he said and held out his hand. “Sell it for seven. If someone likes it, they will pay that.”
    I was hesitant to agree. Seven would mean future price cuts, as well as multiple showings and with my other listings, this could mean an enormous amount of work and time. If I took it on, I also took on the financial responsibility for advertising it and paying for open houses. It would call for a lot of out of pocket expenses, not to mention the time my assistant would have to put in helping me sell it. But if I could get seven… Wow. That would be an enormous commission. But the sparkle of lots of money wouldn’t hold weight right now. It was about the reality of the situation. No one would even look at this place for that amount, especially with the high property taxes and the maintenance it would require. I would have to find a sultan to even consider it. And I didn’t have any sultans on my contact list.
    I stared at him and wondered why he wanted so much. He was asking way over what it was worth, I knew that. I knew it wasn’t about the money. It couldn’t be. He had plenty of that to burn. He didn’t have to have any extra. He would make a good profit at half the price. But it was not my place to judge. It was my place to sell.
    He and I stared at each other and I got a number in my head, then held out my hand, “How about six and a quarter?”
    “Six and a half,” he countered.
    Fuck! He was going to be a pain in my ass, I could tell. But I conceded, as I had no choice, “Six and a half it is.”
    He grinned and shook my hand, then stepped back to stare at me. “You don’t dress like a woman,” he said abruptly after a few seconds. “You dress like a… Like a small child. Or a school marm.”
    Where the hell did that come from? My face burned with embarrassment. I could have slapped him. I always wore these kinds of dresses and I loved them. They were all the rage at the moment, though I had been wearing them for years and always got complimented on them. And they were super expensive. They were dresses made of gauzy material with black grosgrain ribbons or leather skinny belts at the waist that hit just below the knee. I had them in blacks, pinks, reds, and blues. I wore them with my black, nude or tan Italian leather ballet flats. They made me look rich, feminine, but never overpowering. They were a modern throwback to the fifties when women wore dresses of this style out to the market and always wanted to look their best.
    What the hell did he know anyway? Even though I was seething, I ignored his comments and stuck to business. “Well, okay. I’ll be going then. I’ll fax you the contract.”
    “No,” he said and nodded towards the house. “Let