Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Leah’s missing person flyer decorated every bulletin board in the hallway. I guessed this was how people made themselves feel better about not doing anything to really help. Simply shoving four thumbtacks into a black and white print off lightened their souls enough to let them sleep. Consciences were funny, weak things. Things I wanted no part of.
I climbed the stairs to the third floor, then made my way to the end of the hall to room 303.
I knew Preston was behind that door, but he hadn’t a clue I was so close. I liked that.
I pressed my ear to his door, listening to the heavy pants coming from the other side. The slap of skin on skin bled through the wood, followed by a deep grunt. The question was, who was he beating off to the thought of—me or the lovely Leah?
My bet was me. I had, after all, given him a show earlier.
If only he knew I’d come into the showers to rinse the dirt from Leah’s grave off, I bet he wouldn’t have been able to wait until he’d gotten home to beat one out. Because he was sick—just as sick as I.
I pulled the invitation addressed to Preston from my pocket, then slid it underneath his door. “I’ll see you soon, my dear sweet Preston,” I whispered.
And with that promise, I left and went to get everything prepared.
The next evening, I stood at my penthouse window, staring out over the sprawling, twinkling city of Manhattan as I waited for my guest.
Was there the possibility that Preston would decline my invitation? Statistically speaking, of course there was.
But would he? No.
He was too curious, and I was too rich. Even someone who hated me would show up—I knew. I had tested that theory last year.
Money had power over politics, friendships, and even egos… Who a man knew was so much more important than who he hated.
5
Preston
Warm night air wrapped around me as I took in the skyscraper reaching into the dark sky like a glittering beacon of wealth.
I glanced back at the invitation in my hand.
The one that someone had slid underneath my dorm room door the night before.
You are cordially invited
The home of Tobias Benton
57th Street NYC, NY 10019
Friday the 20th of March
7:00 pm
So, here I was, outside the doors of a marble lobby, with his invitation in my hand.
I didn’t even know what I was coming to. A party? A dinner?
If it were a party, surely I’d see some other students entering the building, but the only people gathered around were businessmen…
I stepped into the ritzy entrance, hoping this was an invitation of the private kind, that maybe Tobias wanted to expand on his show in the shower.
With one look in my direction, the concierge made a beeline to me—like he’d been waiting on me.
“Mr Lucas? Right this way…” He led me away from the main elevator and toward one at the side of the room.
Smiling, he waved a badge in front of a panel, then motioned me inside the mirrored box. Before I could protest, the doors closed, and I was on my way up.
If I had any reservations, any desire to turn around, they were now irrelevant because moments later, the doors opened to a glamorous penthouse—one without music or people loitering in the entrance.
Just me then.
A smile pulled at my lips as I exited, taking in the sparkling chandelier hanging in the foyer.
I came from what most people would consider a wealthy family, but this, I thought as my attention went past the leather sofas to the floor-to-ceiling window at the far side of the room, this was money.
Millions upon millions of dollars.
I rounded the corner, stopping when my gaze landed on the dark and alluring Tobias Benton, dressed in a suit with a glass of Champagne in his hand. The expansive New York City skyline served as his backdrop, a flashing neon sign denoting his wealth and status.
“It was nice of you to come, Preston.” He smirked before taking a sip of his drink.
He seemed so civilized, but based on the memory of him in the shower yesterday, one thing was for sure, he was far from civilized. “Well, you did invite me.” I held up the invitation.
“That I did…”
Tension thickened the air between us as I waited to see what Tobias would do. After all, he was the aggressor here, the one who welcomed me into his domain. But all he did was stare from across the room.
“Why am I here, exactly?” I asked.
“Why do you think?”
I fought the smile that tried to make its way onto my lips. “Based on your performance in the gym showers? I can take a guess. But I don’t like to presume.”
“And so, you accepted because you’re willing?” Tobias pushed away from the window, placing his glass on the coffee table before he circled me like prey. He trailed his fingers over my shoulder. “Are you curious about how my fist would feel around your hardening cock?” My dick twitched at the thought.