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“I’m not lying. Trust me.”
If I were myself right now, we’d both be watching that video of Billie and jerking off.
If I were myself, I wouldn’t have taken down the pictures on Billie’s profile from the Decadent site and saved them for myself.
If I were myself, I would have left her alone.
I just can’t yet, because Billie fascinates me for reasons I can’t quite describe.
In just ten days, I’ve gone from wanting her out of my life to wanting to fuck her. That’s messed up.
It’s even more messed up than the plan I’ve conjured for her for the next thirty days—correction, thirty-eight days with weekends included.
My plan essentially sees me paying her a hundred G’s to leave New York.
I get what I want in the end—her gone. But something I don’t want to listen to keeps whispering that I might not want that. She might fascinate me too much, which is absurd.
That aside, there are a few things that haven’t exactly escaped me. Like this crazy attraction I have to her that feels more like an obsession.
I also haven’t overlooked the fact that she wants to do medical research, like my mother did. And even though Billie might disagree, she has a mother who cares for her.
Just like I did.
It was clear from the way Billie spoke about her mother that there is a disagreement and home might not always be happy. I can imagine arguments and contention over another man moving in to take her father’s place, but it’s clear her mother loves her.
The only thing I’ll ever truly know as truth in this life is that my mother loved me with all her heart.
I guess everything is going to remind me of her in some way, shape or form because I miss her and wish she hadn’t died the way she did. I wish I could have had more time with her.
I’m just grieving for her. That’s all it is.
Everything is still raw.
I knew she was going to die, but knowing doesn’t make death easier, especially when it happens sooner than you think.
So this fascination with Billie Fairchild is all in my head. She’s still who she is, and her father is still scum that deserves the death penalty. I’m sure once I fuck her and get her out of my system, everything will sort itself out in my mind.
And my dick.
“You suck, Chad.” Maksim throws a handful of Cheetos at me. “Okay, how about this. What about you and Jenna?”
“There is nothing going on with Jenna and me.”
“Why do I believe you more about her than Billie Fairchild?”
“That’s just you seeing what you want to see.” I chuckle and take a swig of my drink. “Do me a favor and stop inviting her around to ourhangouts.” Like the other day.
“Fine. Maybe if you communicate a little more, I’d know what sort of pussy you want.”
“Don’t worry about me.” For the next thirty days, I’m sure I’ll get my fill of the beauty. I can’t wait to have her riding my cock.
The moment I think of that, I considerf what I’d like her to do when she starts working for me tomorrow.
I take out my phone and find her number. She’s probably still trying to work out how I got my number programmed in her phone—secrets and tactics that make me as dangerous as I look.
“What are you up to?” Maksim grins.
“Nothing.”
