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)
“Then find another ‘house manager,’” I say with quiet sarcasm that I should bear such a ludicrous title. “Because I need weekends off. It’s non-negotiable.”
I’m not giving up one more minute of my time with Hope, and I’m going to use that crazy signing bonus to hire an attorney first thing on Monday. I’m going to fight Nelson for joint physical custody, and I’m not going to stop until I succeed.
Even if that means I have to suck Asher’s cock Monday through Friday.
Although I grudgingly admit it doesn’t really sound like a chore to me.
Regardless, I have a new plan of action. I’m going to make this work for Hope and me.
He’s quiet, and I panic for a moment that the deal might be blown. My mind scrambles to find a middle ground with him, but it’s not needed.
Asher’s words are nonchalant. “Be here at eight AM on Monday.”
“I’ll be there,” I clip out with a modicum of geniality in my voice. He is my employer after all. “But I need to have Monday afternoon off to take care of something personal.”
“Fine,” he mutters. “But you’re going to the club with me Monday night.”
“Fine,” I snap.
“Fine.” This time, he adds a low, sexy laugh. “Maybe we can work out some of that aggression you seem to be harboring right now. I like a little rough, angry sex. Don’t you?”
A shiver tickles up my spine at the prospect. My sex life wasn’t overly adventurous with Nelson, so I have no clue if I like it rough or not.
Something tells me, however, that I’d probably like anything Asher offers, so I throw caution to the wind by taunting, “Do your worst, Asher.”
“Be careful,” he warns in a low growl. No doubt he wants to strip away any fake aura of confidence I might be trying to fool him with. “I’m of the firm belief that pain enhances pleasure. I can’t wait to teach that to you.”
My brain fuzzes up a bit at the prospect, an ache forming between my legs. While I have no clue if I would even like such a thing, my body clearly is interested in the concept.
I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into with this man, but there’s no turning back now.
As of this moment, he’s the key to getting my daughter back.
CHAPTER 7
Asher
I shift into third gear, only blocks from the Wicked Horse where I told Hannah to meet me. My entire body is buzzing with anticipation, and I’d be lying if I said part of that wasn’t nervousness.
It’s not an emotion I’m used to feeling as confidence is my middle name and borderline arrogance is my game. And it’s not Hannah herself who has me apprehensive.
I mean, she twists me up for sure, but I can handle her.
What has me on edge is how much I want her. It borders on being out of control, and it’s not something I’m used to.
Today has dragged by. I could barely concentrate at work, which was not a good thing since I was negotiating the Tyndall property, which my dad seems to think will be a failure. I was able to get my head out of my ass long enough to seal the deal, but then I was off thinking about my upcoming night with Hannah.
It had been that way since she showed up at my apartment at eight this morning, just as we’d agreed. I shouldn’t have been surprised she showed up in shorts and a t-shirt as September gets hot in Vegas. She had on a pair of comfortable, if not overly worn tennis shoes, and was carting a bucket full of cleaning supplies.
I opened the front door when she rang the bell, took her all in, and asked, “What’s with the bucket?”
She rolled her eyes, and my palm tingled with the strong urge to spank her. “You did say you wanted me to clean your apartment, right?”
“Right,” I say. In actuality, I had totally forgotten that whole “house manager” shit I threw at her to ease her conscience. I made a mental note to call the cleaning company I normally used to cancel their service.
Hannah didn’t need any instruction on how to clean my apartment as she’d done it before, although I warned her not to break anything else. When I got another eye roll, I had to bite back a smile.
I gave her a credit card for any purchases she’d need to make, told her my grocery preferences, and how I like my shirts starched from the dry cleaners. She also said she would make dinner for me each evening. She was apparently taking the “house manager” role seriously as she was the utmost professional as we talked.
That was fine. I let her have her moment of aloofness, knowing she’d melt under my touches tonight.