Текст книги "Weak for Him"

Автор книги: Lyra Parish

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Eight

Warm air hit my face. All I wanted to do was get rid of the electric current that ran through my bones. Forget about the ache between my legs and jumbled thoughts in my mind. I've never been looked at the way Mr. Felton looked at me. Or touched, or spoken to in a manner that made me feel… what? Sexy? Dirty?

Now get out. The words were short and simple, but held so much within them. The vengeance in his voice, the hate in his eyes, made me want to punch him in the throat. But his throat led up to his chiseled jaw and pouty lips, and those eyes and cheekbones. Oh fuck, those eyes.

Mr. Felton seemed so proper in his pressed black suit and blue tie with his hands in my panties.

But would I do it again? In a fucking heartbeat.

I went to the hotel and tried to forget the whole situation although I knew that was impossible. I watched stupid girl movies and ordered from room service! Hello Friday night!

All night long, my mind spun until eventually the time blurred. Hours and seconds melted into one long-lived experience, one that I hoped I didn't look back at in ten years and regret.

What had happened? I had agreed to be a call girl. Agreed to sell my virginity. Mr. Felton placed his hands down my pants. I had smelled like sex. Jesse hated me. I watched stupid girl movies that didn't make me feel any better about myself. All facts.

The soft hotel sheets covered my almost-naked body. I stretched and threw the covers off and opened the curtains in the room.

"Well hello, Lady Luck. Don't be a bitch today," I whispered to the busy city streets. The unknown thrilled me and scared the crap out of me; a wicked mix of conflicting emotions whirled within.

Every move I made always required detailed planning, calculations of possible outcomes, with the worst scenario having its own backup plan. I never imagined becoming a call girl, never in my sexiest dreams.

Before I completely lost track of my emotions, I decided to call Abbie. I didn't care what time it was there, I needed to talk to her, confide in her, and tell someone what I was up to just in case something bad happened. I watched way too much CSI.

After I clicked her name from my favorites, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to answer.

Nothing.

As soon as I hung up, I had a call.

"Mornin'." I tried to put as much cheeriness in my voice as I could muster.

"This better be important. You know how much I hate mornings." And boy did I. She hated them like I hated the taste of coconut, or being alone, or even how I hated getting my feet wet when it rained. If the sun never shined again in the morning, I think Abbie would have been perfectly okay with that. She was such a grump before 10:00 a.m.

"I love how you hate mornings. Anyway. I'm sorry, Ab. I. I needed to talk to you."

When she responded, her voice was raspy and full of annoyance, but then softened.

"You took the job, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Complete and utter silence filled the other line. I actually thought I heard the phone drop.

"Wait, what? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"You said to keep my options open."

"I didn't mean that, Jennifer."

I somewhat expected this reaction from her. I really did and I needed it. I needed to know that someone cared. That someone could pull me from the darkness if I ever got lost.

"Abbie."

"Jennifer Antoinette."

Usually, I wanted people to call me Jennifer Ann, but no, everyone had to say the full name. What the hell was my mother thinking?

"You've got to be shitting me. You're a virgin. Virgins can't be call girls unless…" She trailed off and stopped talking mid-sentence. We both knew there were plenty of sexual acts a person could perform without compromising their virginity.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You're smart. Pretty. You graduated in the top of your class at the University of Houston. You were always the one to make the best decisions. And you don't really need the money. I just… I don't know what to say."

"I'm getting paid thirty thousand."

"That's it?"

"A month."

Silence, once again.

"…and my boss' office has the best view of the city."

"Did you have sex with him?"

"No. No. It isn't like that."

"Are you lying? Something is up I can tell by your tone change."

That's the only thing that sucked about Abbie. She knew me. She knew me so well that she could tell if I was lying even with hundreds of miles between us. Even if I wasn't telling the whole truth, she knew. Abbie could read me like an open book.

"Are you sure you didn't have sex with him?"

The question made me flush.

"What? No!"

"Would you?"

"No! I would never do that, Ab. I can't. He's my boss and… I've agreed to sell my virginity."

"You are a dirty, little slut."

Yesterday I would have let him throw me across the floor and make me his rug. He could have slammed me against the window and fucked me crazy in front of the city. I would have let him. I was so turned on, he could have done whatever he wanted with me. But the rules stated: immediate termination if one fell in love with another employee or client. It never specifically stated anything about having sex with another employee. But is sex ever really just sex? The stupid girl movies didn't think so. As long as I was an Elite, we were both equally unavailable because he was my fucking boss.

Critical thinking skills kicked into overdrive, and I had to stop before I drove myself off the crazy cliff. It was all a bit complicated.

More silence passed, and Abbie spoke up. "I'm just messing with you. Chill out."

We laughed about the rumors floating around Mid-County and Abbie's last semester of school.

"Hey, after graduation, you should move up here. I should have a place of my own by then."

I smiled at the thought of her being here. If Vegas could suck the wild out of me in less than a week, when Abbie arrived, I would completely lose all straight-edged inhibitions.

Between the two of us, she was the beauty, and I was the brain. Mischief was her middle name, or should have been. Abbie would do anything to get a rise out of people or to steal the spotlight. Trouble to her was like a flame to a moth. Being drawn to that type of behavior, while being surrounded by Sin City, was a slush pile of madness waiting to happen.

"Vegas couldn't handle me," she finally said, half-jokingly.

But could she handle Vegas?

"If you're still there after I graduate, I'll move. I miss you."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

A promise from Abigail Green was as good as gold. She only had four months until she graduated. I knew I would still be here at that time. But before I could say another word, three knocks pounded on my door.

Knock-knock-pause-knock.

"Hey, Ab. That's a deal. Four months and you'll be here."

I looked through the peephole, and there stood Mr. Hands-in-my-pants.

"Shit, it's my boss," I lowered my voice.

"Your bossy boyfriend?"

"You have no idea how bossy he is, and he isn't my boyfriend. Actually he's a huge asshole."

"Whatever you say. Take care. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's saying a lot, considering."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Knock. Knock. Pause. Knock.

"Nothing. Gotta go. Love you."

"Love you too, sis."

I quickly slipped on my bra and panties and rushed around looking for my clothes.

"Open the fucking door."

Damn. Most of my clothes were packed in the dirty laundry bag, and I didn't have time to search through my closet. I heard another knock, knock, and on the pause I swung open the door before Mr. Felton's hand could give the third.

Nine

"One sec. I need to get dressed."

I tried to close the door, but he moved his hand in the way and let himself in.

"I'll wait inside."

He studied every part of my body, stopping at my breasts, then trailing down my flat stomach before meeting my eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"You know what they say about women who wear black lingerie?" He leaned on the doorframe.

"Not exactly."

"It means they want someone to see."

"To be fair, I wanted to get dressed. But you insisted."

"That's what they all say."

"So why are you here?"

"Today you leave this coffin of a room. You're moving into my house."

"Excuse me? What if I don't want to?"

"Then you shouldn't have signed the contract without legal advice, Ms. Downs."

He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for me to get dressed and pack my bags. I double—and triple—checked to make sure nothing was left behind. But no matter, the forgetting-something feeling always persisted. I hummed Fly Me To The Moon in the bathroom while I brushed my teeth and then stopped, and thought I heard Mr. Felton humming it as well. I had found myself humming a lot since yesterday. I peeked my head from the bathroom door.

"Oh, you know that one? You're telling me you aren't completely dead inside, and you actually listen to music?" I said with a mouth full of toothpaste foam.

"No one is that dead inside."

"My favorite part is the beginning."

As I slipped on a summer dress and packed my toothbrush away, Mr. Felton stood.

"You're going to be bad for business, you know?"

I swallowed hard, and he grabbed my two bags.

"….Because you make me wait while you lollygag around. Ready?"

I nodded, and we left the room and made our way to the elevator.

"I can keep a better watch on you in the house. Make sure you don't do anything ridiculous. You seem to be a hazard."

"At least I'm not toxic," I whispered and looked into the hotel mirrors watching every movement he made. I thought I saw a smile creep across his face.

I dropped the room keys in the little box and checked out of the hotel. The woman handed me a receipt, winked at Mr. Felton, and then smiled. He returned the gesture. Pure sex appeal on legs and a freak behind closed doors, just my virgin luck.

Outside, the sight of the black beauty parked in front made me gasp. I ran my hands over the curves of the hood and fully took in the Aston Martin Vanquish. V12. Zero to sixty in 4.1 seconds. Zero to one hundred in ten. The way I lusted over cars, and speed and fresh leather wasn't normal. I should have become a mechanic.

"I think I've fallen in love."

Mr. Felton watched me and laughed.

"Most women say that to me."

"I was talking about the car?"

"This? This is my baby, and I am quite keen on her."

He smoothed his hand over the body of the car. "This is my V."

He pulled the keys from his pockets and clicked the button. Her car horn lightly honked twice, and then he placed my bags in the trunk.

"Come on, baby. I'm going to take you on the ride of your life."

I didn't know if he was talking to me, or the car, and it didn't matter. Mr. Felton didn't have to tell me twice. I slid onto the mocha-colored seat and buckled myself in. The smells of Mr. Felton and the soft, smooth leather with double stitching filled the car.

Mr. Felton threw the car into first, and the tires squealed from the parking lot. Two women stood outside the hotel and watched us with their mouths wide open.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked.

While weaving in and out of traffic and taking every back street available, he glanced at me. I couldn't tell him that I was thinking about our last time together and how I apparently had J.B.F hair and smelled like sex.

"Nothing."

The car accelerated, and a gravitational force pushed me against the seat. We were pulling some G's down the freeway, and then immediately exiting. His V vroomed. She wanted to go, and the truth was I wanted to, as well.

"Can I drive?" My leg shook in anticipation.

"I never let a woman drive my car. Especially those who can't drive stick."

"I know how to drive stick, but it's not like you would know that."

The grin on his face grew in size.

"I actually do want to know."

My cheeks burned, and I could feel my body temperature rise, so I tried to pay attention to the fading city and calm down. He took an off ramp and sped down the open road surrounded by desert. V hummed and purred the whole way coaxing me calm.

"Sometimes when I'm stressed or need to get away from business, V and I will take a ride. She seems to be the only woman who can fully satisfy me with no fucking lip."

"Maybe if you didn't treat women like shit, you wouldn't get lip from them."

He cocked his head toward me and his jade eyes sparkled.

"It seems the only disrespectful woman I know—with a dirty mouth and balls bigger than mine—is you."

"If your balls are as big as your ego, then I would expect mine to be gigantic."

Mr. Felton slammed on the brakes, and V veered off the road. Dust flitted behind us like a smoke trail from a burning engine.

He grabbed the bottom of my chin and forcefully made me look at him.

"A shame that pretty mouth is so fucking filthy. It's a real shame. But that's why I am going to let you drive her. I want you to see how a real woman should act under my hold."

My jaw dropped, and he opened his door. I ran around to the other side with way too much excitement in my bounce. I could mark driving an Aston from my bucket list. Before I slipped in, Mr. Felton closed in on me against the car.

"Just know, V is loyal, and madly in love with me. Don't be a bitch towards her."

When I was behind the wheel, V and I connected. She purred and begged for me to drive her wild. After buckling, I looked at Mr. Felton, who looked out at the wisps of clouds above. He gave me a head nod and a hurry up gesture with his hand.

With a kick of the clutch and snap to first gear, I made a U-turn and raced down the road. Power and pavement called my name, and I gunned it.

"Faster," Mr. Felton whispered.

Barely tapping the gas pedal caused us to fly down the road.

"See how she responds?"

"Yes."

"You and V are no different. Full of fierceness and beauty."

I watched the road carefully and tried to understand the direction of the conversation.

"You both must listen to me and respond when I give a direction."

I could feel him staring at me, but I kept my eyes on the road.

"If I tell her to do something, she does it without a fucking peep."

I pushed harder on the gas, ninety felt like nothing.

"If I tell her to stop, she asks me when."

Winding curves and Desert Mountains filled the background.

"And I give her what she needs to do her job, and be good at it. I tune her up. I make her ready to perform at full capacity."

The throttle hit one hundred miles per hour.

"She can't do anything without me. I drive her. I control her. She is mine. And so are you."

And then the bright red and blue lights flashed in the rearview.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

I couldn't concentrate.

Adrenaline shot through my body as I pulled the Aston onto the rocky gravel on the side of the road. Before I could grab my wallet from my clutch, the police officer tapped on the window. A man with dark black hair and a handlebar mustache leaned over to get a closer look.

"Yes, officer?"

"I've been following you for a few minutes. Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Umm…" I thought playing stupid girl would pay off. It didn't. Not with Mr. Asshole sitting beside me.

"What's the issue, Officer Black?"

"At one point, I clocked you at one hundred miles per hour. Do you know the speed limit?"

"I'm not sure. I'm actually not from here."

Mr. Felton leaned over the console. His head was close to mine.

"Felton."

"This is Jennifer Downs. She's actually new to the area, and I thought I would let her drive V."

The officer stood unamused, but there was a flicker of something in his eye: recognition.

"I should bring you both to jail for driving so fast. It's reckless," Officer Black said.

"Reckless is your middle name, isn't it?" Mr. Felton whispered in my ear, and I could feel his lips lightly touch the edge of my neck. My breathing accelerated and my chest rose and fell with each breath.

"I've warned you several times, Finnley. Next time, I will bring you to the station. Being reckless, playing with young women, it isn't healthy."

Officer Black lifted an eyebrow and leaned on the car.

"Exactly why I don't let women drive my cars. They can't seem to control themselves. Won't happen again, officer."

Unspoken words were exchanged between Mr. Felton and the cop, and then he left. Just like that. I should have at least gotten a warning, but received nothing. Mr. Felton had the power to persuade the law. In Texas, I would have been handed a ticket quicker than I could roll down the window.

"How long have you been dancing?"

"I never said I danced."

"Your legs did."

Amazed how unfazed he was at the potential ticket, I stared into his face.

"My adrenaline is pumping so fast right now. I can't even think."

He grabbed my wrist. My heart beat a million miles per minute.

"Wow. Did the flashing lights turn you on?" He laughed at my expense.

It was being pulled over combined with your deadly sex appeal, I wanted to say, but didn't.

"Always the asshat, aren't you?"

"Only when you are the ass, Ms. Downs."

Leaning forward in his seat, he programmed the GPS to bring us home.

I followed the route, and could see faint city lights in the distance. Another mile and I would be home, well, his home.

A tall cement fence lined the side of the road, and I knew we were almost there. Following what the GPS said, I turned into to a gate-blocked driveway.

"The code is 0619. Press enter, and the gate will close behind you."

Tall golden gates slowly opened and closed whenever I drove through. In the distance sat a fortress of a house. It was pure architectural genius with large windows lining the outside instead of walls. There was more glass than siding. I glanced inside as we passed, and could see two women inside leaning over the kitchen bar. Okay, house was an understatement, but somehow I expected nothing less than a fortress funded by sex.

"Welcome to my private compound. Felton Estates."

I rubbed my hands over the steering wheel before I removed the keys from the ignition and handed them to Mr. Felton.

"Told you V would give you the ride of your life. She's never disappointed."

As I opened the door, he pulled me back into the car. I turned my body toward him.

"Before you go in, you must know you moving here is simply protocol."

"Is that what yesterday was as well? Protocol?"

"Since you understand. Shall we?"

My first orgasm was fucking protocol.

With a beat, he opened his door, grabbed my bags from the trunk and handed them over. The sparkle in his eyes vanished; it was every woman for herself because he had turned all business.

"Since I was five."

"Excuse me?"

"I've been dancing since I was five. Trained in jazz and ballet and danced my way through college."

He swallowed, and I caught the hint of a smile form on his face, but it never manifested.

White marble steps led up to the double wooden doors. Inside stood Paisley, Jesse, and another girl whom I hadn't met yet.

"Everyone, please welcome Ms. Jennifer Downs to the house. She is new to the business, and I hope that each of you welcome her as if she were a long-lost friend."

Jesse scoffed, and Paisley elbowed her. Mr. Felton stared at Jesse until she looked away. The other girl, pretty with dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes, had freckles sprinkled across her face like stars in the night sky. There was no pattern to her prettiness. She had a natural quality about her. Not innocent but not fake, I couldn't explain it. Her hair flowed midway down her back, and she wore it in a tucked-in side swoop. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. A kindred spirit in a room full of tigers, I supposed.

"Lori, won't you show Jennifer to her room?" Paisley asked.

She didn't complain, or give dirty looks, or act upset by my presence. Instead, she introduced herself formally and grabbed a suitcase from my hand, and we walked up the stairs. I couldn't help but stare up at the high ceilings or memorize the various abstract paintings on the wall.

The upper floor had several doors lined against the wall, and I wondered how many women lived here at one time.

"Don't worry. You'll get used to being here. It doesn't take long."

Her words and voice were reassuring, soft, and motherly, although she couldn't have been much older than me.

"How many women live here?"

"Right now there are five of us here, six including you. The rest of the girls have their own places but drop in occasionally. Here we are."

The fourth door on the left would be mine.

Inside were beige walls, a sleigh bed, and a large window with a balcony. At least I had that.

"I'm right next door," she said as she pointed to the right, "if you need anything."

I smiled.

"I'm happy you're here, Jennifer. It seems everyone else is sewn into cliques. Plus it's nice to no longer be the new girl."

She gave a sincere smile and shut the door.

I unpacked my clothes and laid them in the dresser and then opened the balcony door and stepped out. The backyard had a hot tub and a pool, and a patio bar and pool house. I only imagined the kind of sex parties that happened down there. My mind went wild with naked people strutting around the pool, having sex with one another in the corner, and the moans. Oh gosh, the nasty moans. Sometimes my imagination even scared me.

Three knocks tapped on the door, and I barely cracked it. Mr. Felton leaned against the frame only enough for me to see his face.

"Yesterday was a mistake. I wanted to apologize."

"It's not like I enjoyed it anyway."

"Of course you didn't. I wouldn't expect a virgin to."

"Bastard," I whispered.

And then he walked away.