Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Well?” I challenge. “Are you ready to get wet?”
His mouth falls open, eyes wide. This is it; this is happening. He wants me the way I want him. I can feel it. Finally, after all this waiting and wanting, it’s going to happen. Everything I’ve been fantasizing about. I’m close enough to him now that I can almost feel his breath on me. It would take no effort to reach for him, to take his hand and put it on my body.
“Get your clothes on.” He stands, his hands tightening into fists. “And have a little respect for yourself.”
My insides go icy while a sick feeling washes over me. “What are you talking about?” Only the confidence is gone from my voice now. It’s barely a whisper and a shaky one at that.
“You know what I’m talking about. Pull this little slut act with one of those shithead boys who were here earlier. Not with me.” He waves a hand, indicating my clothes. “Now, before I tell your father.”
Bile rises in my throat as I see the disgust in his eyes. I can’t believe it. I want to die. I want to jump in the pool and go straight to the bottom and never surface. How could I have been so wrong? I thought he wanted me. I thought—
It doesn’t matter what I thought. Now he’s looking at me like I’m a piece of filth—like I disgust him. I barely have time to pull the cover-up over my head before grabbing my bathing suit and running full out for the house with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.
How could I have been so stupid?
How am I supposed to face him again?
1
ZEKE
My shoes click on the marble floor of the passage leading from the employee quarters to the main house. It’s only minutes after my phone rang, the voice on the other end inviting me to join him in his office. It might be well past midnight, and I might’ve already been in bed when he called, but I know better than to keep the boss waiting. Besides, I’m used to these last-minute emergencies. I doubt I’ve slept deeply in years.
Mr. Morelli is in his office, in the east wing of the house. The mansion is bigger than anything I ever imagined living in back in the day. Though it’s not mine, and it never will be. I’m a hired hand. My position is still one of the elite ones in the Morelli family, but it’s also the most precarious. One false step and I’m out on my ass.
And that would be a best-case scenario kind of thing. Worst case, and probably closer to reality? They’d find me somewhere with half my head blown off, my teeth and fingers missing to make identification more of a challenge. Because if there’s one thing the boss values more than anything, it’s his daughter—even if he barely gave a damn about her until a year ago. Some guys my age can fuck up at their jobs and get a slap on the wrist, or at worst, they’ll have to find a new company to work for.
I fuck up, and I’m dead.
He’s pacing in front of the windows, the way he usually is when he has something on his mind. I rap against the heavy wooden doorframe before stepping into the room.
I catch something moving next to his desk, almost reaching for my gun until I realize it’s just one of his girls. I call them girls because they are barely old enough to be called women. The half-naked blonde with her tits spilling out of her little schoolgirl uniform glances up at me but quickly lowers her eyes back to the floor, where she is kneeling the way he likes it.
Ignoring her presence, I step deeper into the room. A wave of his hand tells me to close the door. That’s something I had to learn to get used to pretty quickly when I first came to work for him. He won’t waste time using words when a hand gesture will do.
“What can I do for you, sir?” I stand at ease, hands clasped behind my back, feet shoulder-width apart. Ready for anything.
“You can pack your things.”
His words are like a vise around my heart. I conceal my features, keeping them cold and uninterested. “Excuse me, sir?” A hundred different excuses come to mind, though I’m not sure what I’m excusing myself for. What did I do? How did I fuck up? He couldn’t know about that night back in June, no way. If he did, I wouldn’t be standing here now.
His lips twitch, and I realize he’s screwing with me. Asshole. “What I mean is, pack your shit because you’re moving to Blackthorn.”
Blackthorn? Maybe I’m a little slow on the uptake in the middle of the night, but he’s not making any sense. “College?”