Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“I suppose you needed to if it’s staying.”
“Anything else for me, boss? I work tonight so…”
Realizing Sarah’s still here, I reach into my pocket and pull out a money clip stuffed with one hundred dollar bills. I remove two of the bills and hand them to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, boss. It’s a pleasure.” She takes the money and leaves.
Just like every single time when it’s just me and Cassidy, something shifts. I know she feels it too because I heard her breath hitch when I touched her shoulders last night. I affect her the same way she affects me, which is good. Very good.
“What should I be doing now? It’s too early to feed the dogs, right?”
“Get your cat taken care of, then meet me outside for lunch.”
I honestly prefer to have her for lunch, but that can wait. Won’t be too long now.
I’m seated at a table on the patio, having a glass of wine when Cassidy comes out. The midday sun is hanging high in the sky, but I welcome the heat. “Lunch will arrive shortly. Would you like some wine?”
“I’m not really old enough.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen. Almost twenty.”
I shake my head and pour her a glass. “You’re old enough to drink here. I promise I won’t tell.”
“How old are you?”
“Why? Do I look too young to drink?”
She laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sound cracks my chest open. It’s a foregone conclusion that she’s it for me. Thing is, at this moment, I’m flooded by visions of days like this—days when the only thing that matters is her happiness. “No, I just wondered, that’s all.”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“Oh, wow.”
“What does that mean?” I shoot her a glance that makes her squirm in her seat. Is our age gap a big deal for her? Because that’s something we both have no control over.
“I thought you were younger. You look younger.”
I lean across the table and squeeze her hand. “Are you disappointed?”
She sucks in a sharp breath as she gawks at our hands. I don’t let go. Instead, I draw circles on her knuckles with my thumb. Her eyes flutter, and she can’t seem to get her words out. “D-disappointed? Why would… I mean, no… I…”
“You need to relax, little girl. It was a joke.”
“Oh, sorry.” She’s out of breath, chewing on her bottom lip and tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear, her other hand trembling.
“I’m sure you must be confused about your current situation. Do you want to ask me anything?”
“Yes, actually. I was wondering what you plan to do with me.”
Now there’s a question. What I want to do with her is simple—make her writhe under me until she’s whimpering, her body quivering in pleasure. I won’t stop until she screams my name. “I told you. You’re here to take care of the dogs. The housekeeper is afraid of them, and I work long hours. They need care and attention.”
“But I can’t just do that forever, right?”
“Forever?”
“Yes. You traded my father’s debt for me, right?”
“No. Your father still has to pay. He traded you for an extension.”
Her face falls, chin trembling, and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Shit. She lays a splayed-out hand on her chest, looking away, probably unable to believe what I just said.
“What? That wasn’t what you expected to hear?”
It takes her a while to speak, her voice cracking. “It’s one thing if he traded me for the money he owes you. But, he still needs to pay you? He traded me for a little more time. That’s my worth. That’s my only worth. Oh god. I thought he loved me. He’s a shitty father, but I never thought…never believed…”
“It is what it is, baby girl. What you have to understand is that he has an addiction. One thing about addicts, they don’t love anything as much as they love the next fix. I see that all the time. Even good men who just want to win take out loans. Just one more game, maybe they’ll win this time. But they don’t. The next thing they know, they’re up to their ears in debt. Don’t take it personally. He’s sick. It isn’t about you.”
Well damn. Here I am trying to defend a degenerate just to make her feel better. She must have one hell of a hold on me.
“So what happens when he manages to pay you?”
“You have two choices. You stay with me or I stay with you.”
She’s still sniffing but I see a hint of a smile. “What’s the difference?”
“Nothing really, but I figured you’d want to have a say in what happens next IF he pays all his debts.”
“But I don’t really have a say in anything, do I?”
“You do, but I also don’t want you to end up with regrets later on. You and I both know there’s something between us—this undeniable chemistry—and I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to see where it leads us.”