Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
It’s the euphoria in her eyes that makes me hot.
And the fact that I’m the one who grants her permission to suck Sam off.
Not yet, says my voice in my head. Not until he begs.
I clear my throat so hard, both men glance over at me, but I cross my arms and pace to the window, looking out. It was a given that I’d sit in on this interview. Sam would be working directly beneath me and I need to give my okay. But do I have a choice in the matter? If I did something that caused Cassie to run away from me, I would never forgive myself.
Nor would I survive being separated from her.
I look back over my shoulder to find Sam’s oddly colored eyes watching me steadily, as if trying to figure out whether or not I’ll ruin his chances.
Of getting the job.
Of having Cassie.
Cassie’s father leans back in his chair. “Well, Sam Bolton. Your résumé says you’re from Boston, but you worked summers on your grandfather’s farm?”
“That’s right.” Sam smiles, revealing a white row of teeth. “Best months of my life, working on the farm. Mucking stalls and rounding up cattle. Fixing fences. Whatever my grandfather needed done.”
My employer seems almost as charmed by this man as his daughter is, I note with disgust. “And he’s since passed?”
“Unfortunately, yes, sir.” Sam crosses himself. “God rest his soul.”
“That’s too bad.”
Sure is. Especially considering his grandfather is his only reference and now it can’t be checked. There is something about Sam that isn’t sitting right with me, but I’ll need more time to find out what it is. Maybe once I find out, I can convince Cassie he’s not right for her. To drop this notion of being intimate with both me and Sam.
Problem is, I don’t know if she’ll wait long enough for me to dig.
I want to try tonight.
Once again, I’m surprised when my loins tighten with anticipation of something I’ve never done before. Something I sure as hell never considered. Sharing Cassie with another man. Both of us giving her pleasure.
Don’t you think she deserves double the pleasure?
Fuck yes, I do.
She deserves anything her little heart desires.
But only last night, I vowed to stay away from her. Whether or not Sam is in the picture now, she’s still young as hell. She’s still my employer’s daughter.
I’ll still be violating the trust bestowed on me.
Am I breaking my vow to give her what she needs? Am I breaking it so I don’t lose her to another man?
“Says here on your résumé you’ve been self-employed for the last five years, working mostly in security up north,” says Cassie’s father, breaking into my thoughts. “What made you up and decide to come down south and work on a farm?”
Sam smiles, propping an ankle on his opposite knee, the very picture of casual. But I’m not fooled. “Like I said, the best years of my life were working on a farm. I’d sure be grateful if I could recapture that feeling while working your beautiful land.”
Smooth.
Too smooth.
Out of sight of my boss, I narrow my eyes on Sam to let him know I’m not falling for his bullshit. But for now, I’m biding my time.
Until I can bring Cassie’s father something more concrete.
“Can you start tomorrow?”
Sam puts his hand out for a shake. “I can and I will.”
Both men stand, Cassie’s father checking his watch. “I’ve got a phone call with a supplier. Miles, can you do me a favor and show Sam where the empty bunk house is? You know, the one behind yours?”
I nod briskly, watching my employer leave the room, painfully aware that he has no idea he’s in the company of two men who want to ravish his eighteen-year-old daughter. “Let’s walk,” I say, striding from the kitchen, not bothering to hold the screen door for Sam.
I’m surprised when he catches up with me almost immediately. “I’m guessing since you didn’t say anything back there to fuck me over…” Sam starts. “You’re considering following through on what Cassie asked us for?”
A growl kindles in my throat. “Might be,” I say. “But you’ll need to agree to some ground rules first.”
Sam
Rules.
A tingle works its way down my spine.
When I was teenager, I hated rules, but I’ve come to crave them.
Years of serving time in juvenile facilities and prison has molded me into a creature of habit. I was born with demons inside me and structure is the only thing that keeps them at bay. Ask any inmate and they’ll tell you, the hardest part about leaving prison is learning to accept your free will again.
I’ve never been able to do it successfully.
That’s probably why I end up back behind bars every time they let me out. I don’t know how to be out here, in this great big land, without having the law laid down on me, day after day. After getting out of prison the first time, I was only out for a few weeks before the pressure of free living got to me. Suddenly, there I was, provoking a bar fight that turned deadly. Hell, I was relieved when they locked me back up and I could rely on rules again.