“What the fuck? Isn’t the entire will about inheritance?”
“This isn’t about money or even property. You get all of that. This is something new under specific bequests and devises.”
I struggled to focus on the late-afternoon traffic as I processed Brody’s words. “I don’t understand,” I admitted. “If he isn’t willing money or property, what is he willing?”
“Proprietorship of your contract.”
The air left the car as I gasped for breath.
WALKING BACK TOWARD the bedroom, my mind flashed to the patio scene with Stewart. Oh my God! Did I really allow him to fuck me with his fingers? Had I really asked him to do it? What the hell was wrong with me? I hadn’t even known this man for twenty-four hours and I invited him to put his fingers inside of me! Was I honestly considering marrying him?
I thought back to the afternoon. Stewart had said that his cock wouldn’t enter me until I asked—until I begged. When he’d said that, I’d thought he was a narcissistic asshole. But after what just happened, I wasn’t sure.
Those thoughts and more danced through my head as I struggled to find sleep. Looking at my phone, I wanted to call Val and ask her advice. Perhaps I needed her calm, positive demeanor. Would she truly be able to look at this situation and see the positive, or would she tell me I was crazy and to run away as fast as I could?
The knock on the door brought me back to consciousness. Opening my eyes, I realized that despite all my tossing and turning, I’d finally fallen asleep and morning had arrived. Panic struck as I jumped and fumbled for my phone. Oh my God, what time was it? After being up so late with Stewart, did I oversleep? Before I could read the time, the knock came again.
“Miss Conway,” Lisa called from behind the door.
The numbers came into view: 5:30 AM. With a sigh of relief, I answered, “Come in.”
“I’m sorry to bother you so early. I know Mr. Harrington said that you have until half past seven, but he was hoping you’d have breakfast with him in his office and discuss any questions or concerns you may have. The final answer must be made by seven-thirty so that you can be taken to school if your answer is no.”
I exhaled, securing the covers around my lap. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed.”
Motioning toward the closet, Lisa said, “There are some jeans and shirts as well as underwear and bras in the closet. I believe they should all fit. There’re even some more comfortable shoes. I didn’t think you’d want to wear the black dress and heels back to school.”
“Lisa?”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
Her pursed lips tipped upward and the gleam came back to her eyes as she stepped toward the bed. “You are? After I spoke with you last night I got the feeling…”
I cocked my head. “Did you tell Mr. Harrington about our conversation? Did you tell him I had questions?”
“Not last night. It was late. I went to bed. However, I did tell him this morning that we’d spoke.” When I didn’t respond, she went on. “He asked me what time it was that we talked. Then he asked me to be sure you were awake and to ask you to join him in his office.” She sat on the edge of the bed and patted my blanket-covered leg. “My loyalty is to this household. Right now that means Mr. Harrington, but if the future contains a Mrs. Harrington, rest assured that I’ll be loyal to her as well.” With a wink she added, “Perhaps I already am. Now I’ll let you get ready, unless you need my assistance.”
Smiling, I replied, “No, thank you. I’ll be to his office as soon as I can.”
Tipping my head back, I heard the door shut and tried to concentrate on my questions about his contract. While clauses and addendums should have been front and center, memories of his hands, words, and warm breath filled my thoughts. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand snaked below the blankets and massaged my overly sensitive clit.
I’d never been one to spend much time masturbating. It was difficult when you shared a room; nevertheless, when I had, it was more of a way to relieve stress than a way to find pleasure. I’d been honest when I told Stewart I didn’t know if I’d had an orgasm. The relief I felt when my fingers rubbed my clit was nothing like the overpowering wave that hit me last night. I couldn’t help but wonder: if his fingers felt that good, would his cock be even better? How big was he? My hand moved faster as I imagined the possibilities. With the tension building, I remembered why I was in the luxurious penthouse and this enormous opulent bedroom. I remembered why my life was about to be sold and who was responsible. My hand stopped. There wasn’t enough self-pleasure in the world to make me come while thinking about my parents. Ultimately, this was all Randall’s fault. He was the one in financial trouble. He was the one who mentioned me to Stewart. If he hadn’t done that, Stewart Harrington wouldn’t even know my name, and I’d be sleeping in my dorm or studying for my advanced biology exam. No matter how great I felt coming apart on that balcony last night, nothing made up for what Randall had done to me. Nothing.
I continually reminded myself of that as I showered, dried my long brown hair, and secured it in a messy bun at the back of my head. Though the bathroom cabinets contained all kinds of cosmetics, I opted for a little mascara and lip-gloss. Rarely did I wear more than that. Well, I had worn more yesterday, but that was different. Today I looked more like me: an eighteen-year-old about to graduate high school.
“This isn’t about money or even property. You get all of that. This is something new under specific bequests and devises.”
I struggled to focus on the late-afternoon traffic as I processed Brody’s words. “I don’t understand,” I admitted. “If he isn’t willing money or property, what is he willing?”
“Proprietorship of your contract.”
The air left the car as I gasped for breath.
WALKING BACK TOWARD the bedroom, my mind flashed to the patio scene with Stewart. Oh my God! Did I really allow him to fuck me with his fingers? Had I really asked him to do it? What the hell was wrong with me? I hadn’t even known this man for twenty-four hours and I invited him to put his fingers inside of me! Was I honestly considering marrying him?
I thought back to the afternoon. Stewart had said that his cock wouldn’t enter me until I asked—until I begged. When he’d said that, I’d thought he was a narcissistic asshole. But after what just happened, I wasn’t sure.
Those thoughts and more danced through my head as I struggled to find sleep. Looking at my phone, I wanted to call Val and ask her advice. Perhaps I needed her calm, positive demeanor. Would she truly be able to look at this situation and see the positive, or would she tell me I was crazy and to run away as fast as I could?
The knock on the door brought me back to consciousness. Opening my eyes, I realized that despite all my tossing and turning, I’d finally fallen asleep and morning had arrived. Panic struck as I jumped and fumbled for my phone. Oh my God, what time was it? After being up so late with Stewart, did I oversleep? Before I could read the time, the knock came again.
“Miss Conway,” Lisa called from behind the door.
The numbers came into view: 5:30 AM. With a sigh of relief, I answered, “Come in.”
“I’m sorry to bother you so early. I know Mr. Harrington said that you have until half past seven, but he was hoping you’d have breakfast with him in his office and discuss any questions or concerns you may have. The final answer must be made by seven-thirty so that you can be taken to school if your answer is no.”
I exhaled, securing the covers around my lap. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed.”
Motioning toward the closet, Lisa said, “There are some jeans and shirts as well as underwear and bras in the closet. I believe they should all fit. There’re even some more comfortable shoes. I didn’t think you’d want to wear the black dress and heels back to school.”
“Lisa?”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
Her pursed lips tipped upward and the gleam came back to her eyes as she stepped toward the bed. “You are? After I spoke with you last night I got the feeling…”
I cocked my head. “Did you tell Mr. Harrington about our conversation? Did you tell him I had questions?”
“Not last night. It was late. I went to bed. However, I did tell him this morning that we’d spoke.” When I didn’t respond, she went on. “He asked me what time it was that we talked. Then he asked me to be sure you were awake and to ask you to join him in his office.” She sat on the edge of the bed and patted my blanket-covered leg. “My loyalty is to this household. Right now that means Mr. Harrington, but if the future contains a Mrs. Harrington, rest assured that I’ll be loyal to her as well.” With a wink she added, “Perhaps I already am. Now I’ll let you get ready, unless you need my assistance.”
Smiling, I replied, “No, thank you. I’ll be to his office as soon as I can.”
Tipping my head back, I heard the door shut and tried to concentrate on my questions about his contract. While clauses and addendums should have been front and center, memories of his hands, words, and warm breath filled my thoughts. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand snaked below the blankets and massaged my overly sensitive clit.
I’d never been one to spend much time masturbating. It was difficult when you shared a room; nevertheless, when I had, it was more of a way to relieve stress than a way to find pleasure. I’d been honest when I told Stewart I didn’t know if I’d had an orgasm. The relief I felt when my fingers rubbed my clit was nothing like the overpowering wave that hit me last night. I couldn’t help but wonder: if his fingers felt that good, would his cock be even better? How big was he? My hand moved faster as I imagined the possibilities. With the tension building, I remembered why I was in the luxurious penthouse and this enormous opulent bedroom. I remembered why my life was about to be sold and who was responsible. My hand stopped. There wasn’t enough self-pleasure in the world to make me come while thinking about my parents. Ultimately, this was all Randall’s fault. He was the one in financial trouble. He was the one who mentioned me to Stewart. If he hadn’t done that, Stewart Harrington wouldn’t even know my name, and I’d be sleeping in my dorm or studying for my advanced biology exam. No matter how great I felt coming apart on that balcony last night, nothing made up for what Randall had done to me. Nothing.
I continually reminded myself of that as I showered, dried my long brown hair, and secured it in a messy bun at the back of my head. Though the bathroom cabinets contained all kinds of cosmetics, I opted for a little mascara and lip-gloss. Rarely did I wear more than that. Well, I had worn more yesterday, but that was different. Today I looked more like me: an eighteen-year-old about to graduate high school.
