Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
He chuckles.
“You mind if I say something a bit blunt?”
I shake my head.
He leans close to me, and I’m trapped in his gaze. I couldn’t look away from this handsome man even if I wanted to.
“I’m glad that I got to have you all to myself last night,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m glad that Sarah or Ava or Testes or whomever didn’t come. And I’m even more happy that for the next few months, you’ll be the first person I see each morning and the last one I see when I go to bed.”
My heart is pounding hard in my chest as Channing leans even closer. I think he’s going to kiss me, but he stops inches from my lips, and my heart thumps with disappointment.
“Come on sweetheart,” he grins before standing. “I’ll take you on a tour of the place.”
Our meal done, he takes my hand begins showing me around. The penthouse must be at least four thousand square feet, which is huge for New York City. Black marble tile stretches from the living room into the hallway, which extends into five bedrooms, a home office, and a recreation room. The en suite bathrooms are white marble with black fixtures and subtle gold trim. If I had to give it a name, I’d say Channing’s style is “elegant minimalist.” His place is lavish, yet classy without being overboard. Plus, he’s got so much space that he doesn’t need to leave, ever. I have to admit that I’m looking forward to living here just a tiny bit because it’s such a change from the cramped, dumpy quarters of my fifth-floor walk-up.
“You like?” he asks, one brow quirked.
I nod.
“A lot,” I state. “But where will I be sleeping?”
He grins.
“In the master with me, of course,” he says in a silky tone. “There’s no need for you to have your own suite, baby girl. You belong to me while you live here.”
I gasp silently at his possession, but secretly, it feels good. Oh my gosh, where is this coming from? I’ve always prided myself on being very independent, but clearly, that’s gone out the door.
When we’re done with the tour, Channing leads me to the living room, where I take a seat on the leather couch. Channing’s across from me, his form so huge that he dwarfs the furniture. Suddenly shy, I cross my legs and tug discreetly at my bra. Oh my god, I’d totally forgotten I was prancing around in nothing but bits of lace this whole time. His eyes flick from my breasts to my face, and then down to my pussy before going back up again.
“So, what do you think of the penthouse?” he asks in a deceptively smooth tone.
I nod.
“It’s gorgeous, of course. It’s the most beautiful space I’ve seen in my life actually.”
“But?” he prompts.
“There is no but. It’s just… I’m surprised that you live in this gigantic place on your own. Don’t you get lonely?”
His look is faraway for a moment. “I’m usually too busy to feel lonely. If I want company, I have my friends or my sister. It works.”
Oh wow, now it’s time for the million dollar question.
“Well, what about, um…” I twirl my hair around my finger, a little bit hesitant to even be asking this question. “Girlfriends?”
He smiles at me. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
I pause for a moment. Do I want to hear what he says? But then I nod because I need to know. I don’t know what this arrangement will mean for us in terms of a relationship, but if Channing expects me to be comfortable here, I can’t have other women coming in and out. For some reason, the idea of him slaking his lust with someone else is completely intolerable. It doesn’t matter how much he’s paying me because I can’t agree to that.
He leans back for a moment, those blue eyes clear.
“I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past. Nothing serious, but I’ve never had to beg someone to spend the night before. Until I met you, that is.”
The intensity in his gaze makes me want to turn away, but the openness and honesty in his response makes my heart tremble.
“But you’re such a handsome man,” I say in a soft voice. “I’m surprised you don’t have more women falling at your feet.”
He grins, flashing that movie-star smile.
“I’m glad that you think I’m handsome,” he rumbles. “Because the feeling is mutual: I find you absolutely ravishing and incredibly fascinating, sweetheart. How is it that you don’t have a thousand suitors throwing themselves at you? How are men not writing poems and ballads about your breathtaking beauty?”
I giggle.
“Okay, that’s a little over the top, but yes, people have said that I’m pretty, on occasion. In fact, I’m here in NYC to be a plus-size model. It hasn’t really worked out, which is why I’m supporting myself as a maid. It’s just a temporary thing,” I add hastily.