Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
I straighten up my nightgown and the robe. The robe seems too nice to be handled so roughly, but I guess a man like him can easily replace even the most luxurious of things.
“So this is how it’s going to be, is it? Every day, you using and fucking me like this?”
He shrugs as he takes his seat at the table. “Depends on if you’re going to be able to handle that, lovely.”
I stew on his words. I can handle a whole lot more than he thinks I can. If all he’s after is some rough fucking, I’m surprised at how much I like it, but I most definitely can handle it, with as good as it’s been.
I don’t give him an answer. I gather my thoughts. Irene, the cook, comes back in and offers me seconds, which I accept given the mess Sebastian and I made moments before. She makes it a point to avoid eye contact with the two of us the whole time, and doesn’t ask any questions.
After breakfast, I head back to my room and put my meager possessions away. My phone rings as I’m hanging up my clothes. It’s Debbie.
“Hey there,” I say as I answer. “How’s it going?”
“Just calling you to check up and make sure you haven’t been buried in this guy’s backyard yet.”
“Couldn’t be talking to you if I was, Deb.”
“Then I’ve successfully confirmed you haven’t been murdered. So, what’s the story? What happens when you answer an ad from some creepy guy on the internet?”
I sigh. “I don’t think this is a typical case. This guy... he seems...”
“Ancient and looking like a twice-dried prune?”
“He’s not, actually. I don’t know how old he is. Late twenties, early thirties if I had to guess. And well... uh... he’s kind of hot.”
There’s a brief silence on the other end. “I don’t believe you.”
“He is! I swear.”
“Hot guys don’t need to put up creepy ads on the internet, Clara. What’s the catch? Is he not good for the money he's promising? I know he has that mansion, but is it in horrible disrepair or something? Like he’s from old money that’s just about run out?”
I take stock of the room I’m in and remember what I’ve seen so far. “Hardly. Everything is nice and clean. He has servants that come by regularly to cook and clean.”
“There’s gotta be a catch. Is he like, horribly annoying? Does he talk to you at length about obscure anime? Does he make you follow him on tours of his old action figure collection? Chew with his mouth open?”
“He doesn’t do any of that. He’s... uh...” I try to think of some wording that won’t cause her to give me excessive amounts of shit or think I’ve gone totally mad. “He’s kind of needy. And he likes to fulfill those needs often.”
She laughs. “So it’s what it says on the tin, then? He just wants a fuckbuddy?”
I think Sebastian wants more than that, but at this point I can’t give a definitive answer. “Perhaps. I barely know the guy so I can’t really say I completely understand him just yet. There might be more to it.”
“If it’s just that, it seems like a pretty sweet gig. Live in the lap of luxury and get fucked by some hot guy? Is he any good in bed?”
“Deb, is that any of your business?”
“What? Maybe that’s why he needs to hire someone. He’s so awful that no woman is going to stick around for round two, even with all that money.”
“I assure you it’s nothing like that.”
She chuckles, knowing me well enough to understand this sort of talk embarrasses the shit out of me. “Keep me updated on when the other shoe drops with this guy, please.”
“I’ll decide if there’s another shoe to drop, Deb.”
“Oh, right. I called you for another reason on top of wondering if you’ve been murdered yet.”
I shake my head. “And what would that be?”
“So I was walking home from work last night, passing by your apartment. Or what used to be your apartment. Police were all over the place. They were pulling two men apart. I think you know who one of them was.”
I groan loudly, shaking my head as I fall back onto my bed. “Who was my dad in a fight with this time?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe your landlord? Did your dad know your lease was up?”
“I told him a bunch of times what day we needed to clear out, and he had plans to crash on a friend’s couch. I guess he got too drunk to remember.”
“Anyway, I hung around. They pulled him away from the guy, threw cuffs on him, and stuffed him in the back of a car before waving everyone off. I think your old man is in jail again, Clara.”
Another pained groan escapes my lips. “Thanks for filling me in, Deb. Know you hate bringing me bad news.”