Trickiest Job
Page 8
In fact, none of them do.
When they do finally start moving, I want to sob. If only this moment could last forever…
Hawthorne pulls out first, followed by Slade. I’m trembling and shaking all over because the heat of their bodies was like the sun, and I just want them to come back.
Then Romeo slowly begins to pull out.
I groan. Inside, I’m wet and slick, but he’s still so thick, so long, even when his cock is soft.
It seems like forever before he’s slipping out of me, and a moment later, when his come begins gushing from my pussy and spilling down my buttocks, I whimper.
Slade caresses the side of my face. “Don’t worry,” he promises. “There will be more.”
Chapter 13
After Slade and Hawthorne leave, Romeo and I go to bed.
Separate beds, as it turns out, but I’m so exhausted that I can’t complain. When I see the time, it makes sense: it’s after four in the morning.
There’s a polite knocking at the door moments after I close it behind me, and I open it to find Romeo—though he’s the only other person in the house, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
His dark hair is still messy from earlier, and his white dress shirt is unbuttoned and untucked. I can see the ridges of his abs through his undershirt.
He holds out a folded T-shirt and raises an eyebrow.
I smile, inordinately touched that he remembers I requested one of his shirts to sleep in when I was here before. I actually still have it. Maybe he forgot.
“Thanks,” I say warmly. “I don’t suppose my bosses will forgive me if I’m late to work tomorrow?”
“Lindsay,” he says, and he’s very, very serious.
My smile fades.
“You’re starting from the bottom at work,” he says.
This makes me frown. “Why?”
“Because you screwed up,” he explains in his deep, rumbling voice. “You screwed up the relationship, and we’re in the process of fixing that. However, there have to be consequences for your actions. That’s part of how you’ll learn to trust.”
“What does starting at the bottom mean?” I ask even though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
His expression softens. “It means you earn your place. You’ll need to prove yourself.”
Oh… I don’t like the sound of that. “Am I demoted?”
“No demotion, no docking of your pay,” he says, and he looks a little amused, like he thinks my concerns are misguided… like I’m really far off base.
It makes me worry.
He leans in. “You’ll train as our submissive for half the day. Until lunch, you’ll be making amends to your bosses for your inexcusable behavior. After lunch, you’ll work, but always in one of our offices. It’ll make it easy for us to keep an eye on you should your grandfather get any ideas. There will be increased security.”
“Ok,” I whisper.
He walks out, closing the door behind him, and all I can think is that I should be offended, but instead I’m nervous… and a bit excited.
I brush my teeth and change into the shirt. In the darkness, I make my way across the room, to the bed. My phone is in my hand, and I drop it onto the bedside table, the outline of which I can barely discern.
The phone slides onto the mattress, and I fumble with the lamp until I find the switch. The glow illuminates the stack of photos I asked Romeo to hold for me. He must have put them there when he brought my things up.
My fingers begin to twirl a lock of hair as I study the top photo. It’s the four of us together: me, Layla, and our parents. I don’t know who took it, but we look happy.
I prop the photo against the lamp and stare at the scene, the frozen waves, the sharp-edged seagulls overhead, the damp sand clinging to Layla’s chubby knees, our father’s rather dorky sunglasses, my crooked smile, the wisps of hair drifting across our mom’s face.
And for the first time in years, I think I have a chance of being happy again.
~ ~ ~
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