Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
God… he spanks so well.
“Tell you what,” I suggest. “You eat your soup, drink all the Gatorade, and then promise me you’ll close your eyes and lay there for fifteen minutes afterward. If you’re still awake, you can go to the office. My bet is you’re going to fall back asleep.”
Asher nods, a small tell that he agrees with me. He gamely tries another spoonful of the soup.
I turn for the door. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Hannah,” he says roughly.
I glance at him over my shoulder, smiling at the expression on his face. He hates being helpless and yeah… I do feel a bit powerful right now. “Repaying the favor,” I say.
Closing the door, I head into the kitchen. My goal today is to clean all the windows in the apartment and dust the baseboards. I started coming up with projects like this to fill my time, as keeping his place clean and doing some errands for him doesn’t always keep me busy. I know our sexual escapades together are considered “work time” for me, but I never want to be looked at as someone who doesn’t work hard.
I’m startled when I enter the kitchen to find Asher’s sister standing at the big center island. Christina is just setting down her purse and keys there, so it’s obvious she just arrived.
“Hey,” I say with a warm flush rushing over my face. I feel like I’ve been caught doing something naughty, having just left Asher mostly naked in his room, despite my noble actions of caring for him when he’s sick. Probably latent guilt for having been ogling the sick man just moment ago.
“Hey,” Christina says with a smile that is etched with worry. “I tried to call Asher this morning, but he didn’t return my call. I called his office and they said he was home sick, so I just came by to check on him.”
I throw my thumb over my shoulder toward his room. “He’s in bed. I just gave him some soup and Gatorade.”
“Well, that’s sweet of you,” she replies. “Thank goodness you were here to see to him.”
“It’s my job,” I murmur with a small bob of my head. I move around the island, then squat in front of the sink cabinet where the glass cleaning supplies will be.
It’s silent so I dare to peek up at Christina, who is now smiling down at me with what I would describe as a “knowing” look.
Oh my God. Does she know I was just ogling her almost naked brother?
My cheeks heat a little more and I open the cabinet, sticking my head inside to root around.
“I’ll just pop in to see if there’s anything I can do for him, but it looks like he’s well-tended here.”
“Uh-huh,” I reply vaguely, keeping my head inside the cabinet so I don’t have to converse with her.
I hear Christina move out of the kitchen, assume she’s into the hallway, and I pull back with glass cleaner in one hand and paper towels in the other.
I’m not sure why I want to hide the nature of my relationship with her brother, but I never wanted to be the maid or secretary the boss banged. It seems seedy.
An unbidden laugh wells up inside of me as I realize how ludicrous it is to feel that way, given the fact I actually am banging him and I’ve been paid money to do it, too, which is far worse.
I make it no further than finishing the first full window in Asher’s living room, when Christina comes back in.
Instead of going toward her purse in the kitchen, though, she heads my way. To my horror, she plops down on the couch. She even curls her feet up under her as if she’s settling in for a good long while.
“He’s almost done eating,” Christina informs me as I turn to spray cleaner on the next window.
“That’s great,” I mutter in reply, but offer no more.
“He said you ordered him to take a nap after.”
“Um… yeah,” I admit, using paper towels to wipe the windows down.
“No one,” Christina says in a voice that’s tinged with awe, “and I mean no one, orders Asher to do anything.”
My entire body goes warm. I realize Christina has guessed far more about our relationship than I could have ever given her credit for.
I slowly turn around to face her, prepared to lie and deny.
When I meet her gaze, I’m stunned to see pure joy reflected at me.
“This is great,” she says in a conspiratorial whisper as she leans forward on the couch.
“What’s great?” I ask quietly, glancing to the hallway that leads to Asher’s room, then back to his sister. Can he hear us?
I take a step closer to her just so we can keep the conversation on the down low.
“You and Asher,” she says smugly.