Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I writhe beneath him. “Just get it over with,” I mutter.
He vibrates with deep laughter, pulling away and sitting up straight. He knows I want it…and deep down I know it too. Lust, constantly betraying me.
He climbs off the bed with a massive hard on, adjusting himself as much as possible. “Juanita told me you don’t have a concussion from the crash. You’re tired. Go to sleep, Gianna.”
He walks around the bed and takes the stairs slowly. I watch him go without looking back, and I don’t bother moving a bit.
I don’t hear a door open or close.
He’s still around. I hear him moving things down there. I hear water run and then stop.
He’s about to paint. He’s not leaving this room, probably for the rest of the night.
I sigh and stare up at the vaulted ceiling.
My body is in dire need of rest. My womanhood is glowing and I’m way too relaxed right now. I am ashamed of myself…again.
What the hell is happening?
I hate this man. I hate this man!
I do.
I hate the way he makes me feel.
He’s confusing my body, but he won’t get to my mind.
My heart still hates him. My brain as well.
As long as I have them on the same side, my satisfied pussy is just a confused organ that doesn’t know any better.
He will not win me over like he did Francesca.
I will use my body as much as I can, but my heart and mind will keep their distance from that vicious man.
I don’t get the welcoming warmth of the sun this morning.
This room doesn’t have any windows.
My eyelids pull apart and all I see is the vaulted white ceiling.
It’s quiet in here. I don’t hear any movement. I sit up and push out of bed, tiptoeing towards the railing. I look down, but don’t see anything.
I go back to pick up my panties and make my way down half the stairs. I bend over to look where his canvas is.
He’s not here.
Does that mean I’m free to go?
I rush back up the stairs and sit on the edge of the bed for a moment to think. I check the alarm clock and it’s 7:15 a.m. I should probably go and get changed for breakfast. I bet that’s where he’ll be, and he’s probably waiting for me to arrive.
I grab my skirt, slide it on, collect my shoes, and then jog down the stairs.
My torn shirt is on the table in the center of the room. I pick it up and slide my arms into it. Wrapping the ends of it around, I make sure to conceal the private parts of me before walking out. I don’t know who’s lurking about.
If Bain is around, I damn sure don’t need him to see me like this.
I walk to the door and pull it open. It screeches a bit, but I keep moving. The hallway is clear when I make it up the first set of stairs. I rush down and when I pass the dining room, I’m relieved to know it’s empty.
I hear the chefs and butlers in the kitchen. I can smell something sweet and something salty. It all smells really good.
As I make my way down the corridor, that’s when I spot someone standing a short distance away.
And it’s just my fucking luck that it’s Bain.
He’s standing in the other kitchen with an apple in his hand. When he spots me through the corner of his eye, he turns fully, narrowing his cold gaze.
I walk faster to get to the staircase.
He stares even harder. He even takes a step forward.
I fucking hate that man.
I hate how he stares at me like I’m a piece of meat. If he doesn’t stop this soon, I may just end up ratting him out. I’ll say he touched me. Maybe Draco will get so pissed that he’ll fire him.
Shit. Who am I kidding? Bain is clearly his right hand man. He handles everything from what I’ve observed. Whenever Draco needs something done, he sends Bain first. He trusts Bain too much to let a girl like me interfere.
Patanza steps up to his side and they both watch me ascend the steps. When I can no longer see them, I release a ragged breath. I know they’re talking about me, and probably Draco too.
I’m practically undone. A torn shirt and no shoes on my feet. I’m sure my hair is a disheveled mess and my face is fucked up from that damn crash. I’m too afraid to even check the mirror.
By the soreness alone, I know I’m not very appealing to the eye right now.
I enter my bedroom quietly, shutting the door behind me and tossing all of my things in the recliner. When I look towards the vanity, I notice the chocolate cosmos are still there.
I don’t know why I thought they’d be gone. I don’t deserve them.