Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Stop sounding like every badly-written superhero.” He turned off the water and walked out completely naked. He was a vision, and he knew it. I looked away, not giving him the satisfaction of being openly admired.
“This isn’t over.”
He grabbed a towel, patting himself dry. “Are you done?”
“No. You’re a pervert.”
“Yes,” he surprised me by saying. “But so are you.”
“I’m not—”
“Go back to your room. I’ll think of your punishment tomorrow.”
“I’ll run away before bending to your will.”
He secured the towel over his narrow hips, grabbing his shaving foam and razor. “Better get some comfortable shoes then.”
Not wanting to keep this awful exchange going, but desperate for some destruction points, I settled for grabbing the expensive cologne by his sink and hurling it against the wall. It shattered noisily, cologne everywhere. I turned around and marched toward my room, realizing one of the glass shards had lodged in my foot.
“Shit!” I roared but kept marching. Now I needed to take the glass out.
I heard him laugh behind my back.
Bastard.
Poor Brat.
Poor, poor Brat. Couldn’t catch a break if said break was sitting still right in front of her, with a Post-it note reading, CATCH ME.
I didn’t feel bad about last night. The fact that she’d decided to stop and enjoy the show was unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome.
I wasn’t much of an exhibitionist, but I liked having Hallie’s eyes on me when I fucked Marla, a flight attendant I’d known from years back and was in Dallas for a layover.
Brat had a dark side, and I had to remember she was off-limits, because nothing turned me on like darkness.
I did feel sorry for her. Her parents were two pieces of work. The shit show yesterday was very telling. A quick scan of the Thorne estate had confirmed zero mentions or sights of anything Hallie-related. Though I’d seen plenty of photos of her horsey sister along with her fiancé, who looked like a piece of bread soaked in water.
The time her parents made her wait conveyed the message that she wasn’t important to them. Then her father had invited me for a talk, in which her mother was present, and I realized these people didn’t know their own daughter as well as I did. They thought she had an alcohol problem, something I’d have picked up on if it were true.
They thought she had multiple sexual partners—in practice, I’d wager she was seeing very little non battery-operated action between the sheets.
And they thought she was as dumb as a rock. But I was starting to suspect there was more to their daughter than meets the eye.
I woke up with a headache. It was six in the morning. Brat was fast asleep. I hit the hotel gym, but not before giving the security company I’d hired a piece of my mind about letting Brat get into the room without calling me first last night.
I hit the shower back in the suite. Brat’s soft snores were still rising from the master bedroom. I wondered what kind of plan she had waiting for me today. Brat was always in the mood for retaliation whenever I messed with her. And yesterday I’d made her come in her studded pink sweatpants just from watching.
I found her fight amusing. Now that I knew her background was comprised of such a shitty family, her unreasonable behavior almost made sense.
The Princess woke up at ten in the morning and found me in the kitchen, working. She was extra pouty. She was also dressed—thank God—though I couldn’t exactly describe what she was wearing. It looked like an old gingham curtain that had suffered a midlife crisis and decided to become a ’50s-style dress.
She put her ruby hair up into a high ponytail, letting tendrils spill across both her shoulders. I had to admit—she was beautiful in broad daylight. Fragile, elegant, and succulent, all at the same time.
“Coffee?” I asked, my idea of giving her an inch of a white flag. A white stamp, if you would.
She shook her head, sitting directly in front of me at the table. I shut my laptop screen. I had a feeling she wasn’t used to having people give her their full attention unless she was naked.
She stared at me. I raised my eyebrows, in a what-the-fuck? gesture. No doubt, she wanted to clear the air after yesterday.
“My parents…” She licked her lips.
Her parents? Did not see that one coming.
“They thought I was staying at their house, and I left without saying goodbye. Did they call you?”
“Yes,” I said evenly.
“Am I in trouble?”
“Also yes.”
Her expression collapsed to something full of annoyance.
“Stop fighting everything and everyone. Accept the situation. These are the cards you’ve been dealt. Me. Your parents. This life. It’s not the worst.”
“I’m not going back there today.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“We have to,” I said dispassionately, taking one last sip of my espresso and standing up to dump the cup into the sink. “They invited us for dinner.”