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Normally, I jerked off for the sole purpose of healthy sperm circulation. Not to fantasize over Farrow’s lips rolling down my shaft.
The little octopus pried away my butter knife.
“They’re short on staff.” She rearranged my utensils on the wrong side, her elbow nearly touching my chest. I could hardly breathe. “The manager of the catering company said you scared someone off. You caught her on a break in the garden and kicked her out?”
“She was smoking.”
“So is this chick.” Junior threw a thumb Farrow’s way, laughing. “Smokinghot.”
Farrow tossed a smile back. “Burn in hell.”
She had no idea how close he was to this fate.
“Might take you up on that offer.” Junior rubbed his hands together. “You coming with me?”
Latching onto the steak knife, I leaned forward, leveling my eyes with Brett’s as I slammed the blade an inch from his pinky finger.
He jumped back in his seat, gasping.
“I will say this once, and I will say it nicely—never,ever, under any circumstances, look, touch, talk, or breathe in this woman’s direction. Am I understood?”
But I obviously wasn’t.
Because Brainless Brett responded by tossing his empty head back and laughing wildly, nearly coughing out a lung. “Damn, bro, chill. She’s just the help. I have a dozen like her waiting in my house if you wanna do a little switch-a-roo.”
“Junior,” Brett Senior barked from my left.
My chair scraped the floor as it shot back. I started to stand, ready to put a knife between Junior’s eyes, when two things happened at once.
One, Dallas Costa’s annoying, high-pitched voice ripped through the air as she singsonged from the foyer, “Oh,Zacharyyy.”
And two, Farrow Ballantine brushed her fingertips on my wrist to stop me.
Putting Dallas aside—all the way on another continent, if possible—I focused on Farrow’s touch.
It scorched a path through my flesh and bones.
I suppressed a hiss, jerking my hand away and fixing her with a glare. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” She toyed with a small smile. “Pushing you out of your comfort zone, maybe?”
“Well, don’t. I fucking like it there.”
But the bite in my voice wasn’t there.
Nor was my knee-jerk reaction to rush into the bathroom and scrub my skin clean until I peeled off the infected layer.
A flash of Dad, dead and stiff above me, still zapped through my head, except it didn’t linger. And I didn’t have the same horrible reaction I normally had to people touching me.
All I felt was… buzzed.
And a little seasick.
Farrow backed away, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her eye as she made her exit.
Dallas leaned in to give me air kisses. “Look at all this food.”
Her big, pregnant belly poked into my personal space. A dire reminder of the thing my mother expected of me. An heir. Someone to continue the Sun bloodline.
