Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
The car slowed to a creep as Dominic stopped in front of iron gates belonging to a neighborhood. The letters MV were built into the gates. He typed in a code on the box, the gates split apart, and he drove until he’d approached a smaller gate.
Withdrawing a black device from the cupholder, he pressed a button on it and the gates swung open with ease. He took the driveway up until a two-story European cottage appeared. I tried not to gawk like a loser as I drank it in. The exterior was cream with an even addition of gray stone. Brown shutters lined most of the windows on the first floor, and a two-car garage was attached to the left. Gold lights rose from the ground, highlighting the house and making it appear like a luxurious castle. This was definitely a place only the upper-class could afford to rent. I couldn’t even imagine how much Dominic was paying a night to stay here.
I climbed out of the car, staggering on my heels as I took in my surroundings. The house was on a single-laned street. Other houses were nearby, gated just like this one. Gates inside of an already gated neighborhood. Interesting.
“You’ve rented this place?” I asked as Dominic locked the car and headed for the front door.
“Oh, yeah. One of my good friends let me rent it for the weekend. Gave me a discount.” He winked at me over his shoulder. “Pretty nice, right?”
“Nice? Please, it’s stunning.” I could never afford a place like this, whether it was bought or a rental.
Dominic opened the door and flipped a light switch on in the foyer to illuminate the area. He smiled as he walked deeper into the house, and I followed him. We stopped in the kitchen. It was spotless, with thick white quartz counters, chrome appliances, and little signs on the walls that I was sure the buyer had gotten from Hobby Lobby. They were the cheesy kind—signs that said things like:
Rise & Shine It’s Coffee Time, Let’s Eat, and Yum.
He showed me the living room, which was set up beautifully with ivory furniture, a beige rug, and a wooden coffee table that I was sure cost a fortune. A wide flatscreen TV was mounted to the wall and on either side of the TV were shelves filled to the brim with books and trinkets. Dominic then showed me where the minibar was and prepared us drinks from it.
“Any requests?” he asked.
I shouldn’t have, but there was something about being in this house alone with him that pushed me into a dangerous zone. “Vodka,” I said.
He prepared it for me, and I guzzled some of it down.
“Wait until you see the master,” he murmured, and it was now that I realized how close he was as he stood in front of me. I could smell the bourbon on his breath, feel the heat of his body on mine. He escorted me upstairs with a gentle hand pressed to my lower back, and when we reached the landing, he stopped at double doors at the end of the hallway.
He pushed them open, and luxury screamed from every corner of the room. The bed was made with white sheets and a plush brown duvet. Behind the bed was an upholstered wall, bordered with iron designs on each side. I had the urge to lay on the bed, cozy up with the pillows. Off to the right was the master bathroom. One of the lights was on, revealing a rainfall shower, a clawfoot bathtub, and white marble.
“Is that drink okay?” Dominic asked, gesturing to my almost empty glass of vodka.
“Yeah, but I probably need some water right now,” I told him. I needed to sober up.
“You’ve got it.” Dominic left the room for only a moment and while he did, I sat in a single upholstered chair in the corner and started unstrapping my shoes. He returned with a glass in hand containing yellowish liquid, while I was halfway unstrapped.
“Hope you don’t mind. My feet are killing me.”
Dom laughed, turning to me with the drink in hand. “Make yourself as comfortable as you want.” He offered the glass to me and said, “Apple juice.”
I would’ve preferred water, but this would do.
“Here. Let me help you.” Dom set his drink down on the dresser and lowered to his knees. I couldn’t help smiling as he unstrapped the shoe I hadn’t gotten to, undid the buckle, and removed it, setting both shoes aside. Once done, he stood and collected his drink, taking a swig.
I sipped my apple juice, mildly annoyed by yet another sweet and fruity beverage, but it was better than taking in anymore alcohol. My eyes turned to Dominic, who was already looking at me. There was heat in his eyes, flaming with lust. He sipped his drink, and I did mine, but couldn’t help fidgeting.