Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I study his features.
Green eyes. Dark hair. Strong, chiseled jawline. The stubble’s gone, and his skin tone is a little darker . . . but it’s him.
It’s him.
The guy who paid me for sex.
Oh, and the father of my child.
God. That is so fucked up. My life is fucked up.
I can’t let my past mistakes hurt William, too. He deserves better. Which means it’s probably best for us both to have no more dealings with this guy.
At the same time, this guy has a right to know.
When I first found out I was pregnant, I tried to find the masked man.
But, know what a secret sex club is really good at, besides creating a sexy atmosphere? That’s right. Keeping secrets.
Nobody would tell me anything, not even after I told them why I needed the information. I talked to Kendra, Monica, and even a couple of the girls who’d briefly chatted with me on my first and only night working there.
As far as the club was concerned, I was probably some extortionist skank trying to blackmail one of their esteemed guests.
I don’t blame them; not really. I’m pretty sure some girls have tried to do that before. And without the guy vouching for me, it was impossible for them to know if we’d really had sex, or even if he’d really existed.
I mean, I didn’t even know his name at that point. I had no idea it was Adam.
I examine his face closely. If I imagine a mask over the top half, I can almost see the masked man from The Succubus.
But at the same time, I wonder if that’s just because of the power of suggestion, given what he’s already told me about himself.
“Are you starting to remember . . . kitten?” Adam asks in a low, seductive voice as he levels his intense gaze at me.
All my doubt evaporates.
He has to be that masked man. Which also means that . . . he’s the father of my child.
My blood runs cold. My skin prickles with goosebumps.
What’s he doing here? Why has he been looking for me? Does he know about William? Is he here to take William away from me?
No, don’t get all paranoid, I tell myself. He probably doesn’t even know.
It’s been three years since that night. In these three years, I’ve thought about this man many, many times.
At first, I tried to forget about him. Then the pregnancy test came back positive, and I tried to find him, to no avail. So, after that, I tried to forget about him again.
I haven’t been able to forget, though.
Sometimes, when things get especially difficult, I even fantasize about having him by my side, relieving some of the burden from my shoulders and having warm, fuzzy, father-and-son moments with William.
Often, when I lie awake at night, trying to go to sleep after William’s woken me up, yet again, I replay the scenes from my memory, remembering the way he completely owned me, body and soul, even if only for a short while.
But those are just fantasies.
In reality, I’m on my own. Sawyer tries to help me whenever he can, but I’m careful not to put too much burden on him. William’s my responsibility, after all.
Also, in reality, our one night of passion meant nothing. It was just momentary pleasure.
Adam gave me money like I was a common whore—after what I thought was a sensual, beautiful awakening. I was nothing but some girl to fuck, to him.
And even though it’s been three years, why should he view me any different? Until tonight, there’s been zero interaction between us since our little . . . transaction.
“What do you want?” I ask. “Why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Adam asks, cocking an eyebrow as he leans closer over the table.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“You,” he says with so much feeling I start to doubt myself. He adds, “I want you.”
“And that’s why you hired Sawyer?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes.” Adam shrugs.
I know rich people spend money like water, but it’s ridiculous. So this is the never-ending, missing-person case that got Sawyer the capital he needed to expand his business?
It occurs to me how shit my brother must be at his job, but this is not the time to be worrying about him.
“Why me? None of the other girls at The Succubus would let you fuck them?” I ask, deliberately slipping in a curse word to let him know I don’t buy his act.
Adam winces like he’s in physical pain. “Do you curse in front of the baby, too?”
“None of your fucking business,” I snap back, even though I’ve actually toned down the expletives since William was born. “Tell me why you really want to find me. The other girls didn’t think you were paying them enough?”
“I wouldn’t know. I never even talked to any of the other girls,” he says.