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“Okay, okay.”
Feeling oddly self-conscious she quickly undressed, but as he took her clothes and handed her the T-shirt, she was suddenly plagued with self-doubt. Not knowing about the dishwasher had been humiliating, and as she pulled the shirt over her head, she slumped into a chair.
“Hey, Bianca, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know how to say it.”
“Try.”
“Let’s face it,” she said with a heavy sigh. “What good will I be in your office if I don’t even know how to put plates into a fucking dishwasher? I’ll just make a total fool of myself.”
“Uh, you just masterminded a kidnapping—single-handed I might add.”
“And look how that turned out, it was a total disaster.”
“You also sensed there was someone close to your father who couldn’t be trusted, and you were right.”
“Roland!” she exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Exactly. Bianca, you’re a sharp, switched-on woman, and you can do anything you put your mind to.”
“I’m not sure about that…”
“Come with me,” he said, dropping her clothes on a chair and grabbing her hand. “I want to show you something.”
Leading her swiftly down the hall and entering the master suite, he walked through a door she thought would be a closet, but as she followed him in, she stopped and stared. The thickly carpeted lounge was dedicated to a famous singer named Lexi, and her musician husband, Bobby Donovan. Pictures of the celebrated couple with other big names hung on the walls, and a glass display case boasted an array of awards.
“My God, Nick, what is this?” she breathed, taking a few steps forward.
“Lexi is my sister.”
“You must be joking!” she exclaimed, spinning around. “I thought you said her husband was in hi-tech.”
“He is, but it’s a hobby for him, not a profession.”
“I don’t even know what to say. Why are you showing me this?”
“It wasn’t that long ago Lexi was feeling just the way you are now. I’d been away from the family for almost five years when she showed up at my door. She couldn’t do anything either, except sing.”
“You’re kidding…”
“All she knew, all she cared about was music. She sang wherever and whenever she could. Dingy clubs, weddings, whatever, then she met Bobby Donovan. He was a starving artist too. The point is everyone has to start somewhere. You’ll figure things out, but you’ll never stop learning, and that’s true for everyone. Find your passion and chase your dreams. I’ll help you as much as I can, whatever they are.”
Rushing over to him, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “I love you so much, Nick. You’re amazing, you’re exactly what I said earlier, my white knight in swimming trunks. I’ll never forget that moment on the beach as long as I live, and I’ll never forget this one either.”
* * *
With Bianca’s luscious body pressed against his, and his cock surging to life, Nick slipped his hands under the light cotton T-shirt and pushed his fingers into her slick sex. As she groaned her response, he swept her up and swiftly carried her to the large burgundy divan against the far wall. Effortlessly positioning her over his lap as he sat down, he pushed the T-shirt up to her waist and savored the sight of her reddened backside.
“Your ass is so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, swiftly landed a few stinging slaps. “Remember, Bianca, this pussy is mine,” he continued, sliding his hand between her legs and vigorously rubbing her clit. “You’re not allowed to orgasm without permission.”
“If you keep doing that I won’t be able to help myself,” she bleated, squirming on his lap.
Jerking his hand away, he spanked her sit spot with a flurry of hot smacks.
“Wrong answer,” he scolded as she yelped. “Try again. You can’t have an orgasm without permission.”
“I won’t, Sir,” she swore vehemently. “I’ll ask, I will, I promise!”
