Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“You would know,” Jim said with an easy smile, as if, albeit temporarily, all was forgiven between us. But it didn’t ease the tension in my body. That, only Daisy could fix.
I had camera’s installed in the penthouse, and was tempted to check them, see what Daisy was doing. I’d never really used them before, trusting my staff instead, but if I couldn’t touch Daisy, maybe seeing her would ease that burning need in me. Had she gotten out of bed? Was she vacuuming and doing the laundry like I’d asked?
Was she staring at the vibrator on her nightstand and thinking of me?
Clenching my fists, I tried to push the sounds of her moans out of my head. Even if last night had been rough on her, I’d made her cum multiple times. Her screams of pleasure had been my doing.
I didn’t owe her an apology for that. Didn’t owe her an explanation. She’d asked for more time, and goddammit, I’d given it to her. After work tonight, I fully expected to see a smile on that woman’s face and maybe even a ‘thank you’ on her lips.
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy
“Are you okay?” Suzie studied me through the narrow slits of her eyes. “You’re usually a little more chatty. Did Brick do something?”
“Just tired,” I said timidly with a small smile. It wasn’t a lie either. I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep after Mr. Langston had left me. I was in pain from his strange little visit. At the time, it had been pleasure turned torture, but now, every time that I thought about it, I grew wet. The torture was continuing. What was happening to me?
The thought of him finally entering my pussy had scared me. I’d barely slept. I knew that he wasn’t going to be tender. It was obvious that Mr. Langston didn’t do tender, and his words haunted me. He was far bigger. I wasn’t going to stretch to fit him. I was going to tear, and it would hurt like hell.
“What’s for dinner? It smells wonderful.” I said, trying to distract myself. If I thought about how Mr. Langston would be home from work soon and probably want to pick up where he left off, I’d start shaking all over again. He’d said he was going to take my virginity this morning and I’d been terrified when he walked into my room, but he simply left for work without even touching me. I should have been relieved, and while part of me was, another part—a newer part of me—longed for his touched.
“Lamb and veggies,” Suzie said. “It’s Brick’s favorite. Although, I don’t know why he texted me this morning to request it. We’d planned on lobster. I had to go grocery shopping today, and that messed my whole schedule up.”
I hid a smile as the chef fussed. One thing I knew without a doubt was that Suzie loved Brick like a son, and all that grumbling was bluster to hide the truth. “Mr. Langston says that he’s known you for a long time. How did you two meet?”
“Brick told you that?” She frowned, but shrugged as she continued to chop the veggies. “He was my neighbor while he was in college. We lived in this shitty apartment building that should have been condemned ages ago. The ceilings had water stains. The carpet was torn and moldy. The pipes leaked.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like my apartment.” Then I remembered that it wasn’t really mine anymore. “At least, the one that I grew up in.”
“Well, the last thing that I wanted was some snot-nosed kid moving in next to me. He worked at night and went to school during the day, so he was coming in at all times and slamming the door. He’d throw wild parties during the week or come stumbling home drunk and try to get into my apartment instead.”
“Wow, really?” My eyes widened. “He’s so meticulous about everything. I can’t imagine him like that.”
“Don’t let that fool you. Even as a college student, Brick was different. Driven. I think most of his antics were just a bluff. He was hiding behind that dumb frat-boy facade. Inside was a driven and intelligent young man. His senior year, I fell and broke my damn leg. He started to visit and help out. He even tried to cook for me, and that was torture in itself. So I gave him a few cooking lessons—which seemed more like a ruse because I ended up cooking for him the rest of the year.”
It was hard to imagine Mr. Langston standing at the stove and cooking for anyone. He wasn’t really the domestic sort. More like the predator type. Hunt and devour whole. “Did he move out when he graduated?”
“No. He took a good job and made some money, but he stayed in that crappy apartment until he started to rise through the ranks at the bank. Even then, I think he only gave it up so he could project a different kind of image. He had some broken roots. That’s the only reason a person would cling to a place like that, and I think that’s what he tries so hard to forget.”