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“I mean… Wife? Girlfriend? Friend with benefits? Business partners?”
He stays silent for a long moment, making my palms sweat as the limo’s speed increases, merging onto the freeway toward my place, reminding me we are leaving the sparkling energy of his world and moving into another. Not so sparkling.
“None of the above,” he answers with a stare, narrowing his eyes, his tongue darting out to touch the corner of his lips before disappearing again. “In fact, it’s been years since I even had a date. Unless you count when I took my housekeeper to the Deadpool 2 premiere because she found out I was invited and threatened my life if I didn’t. But, seriously, I want you to know that. The part about me not dating, not my housekeeper. Do you believe me?”
I take a few seconds, pondering my answer, but I know what I feel, so I do my best to not overthink it.
“Yes. I believe you.”
“Good girl.” He says those words again, making my ears ring and my nipples tingle.
Magic words. Words that make me feel everything is going to be okay.
I flinch at the memory of watching my mother, hooked up to the machines that even the doctors knew wouldn’t save her life, at best only extend it.
I remember the social worker, asking me if I had any family, me shaking my head, holding my diary close, my only constant companion. Of finally learning who my father was when the courts placed me with him, a man who had never wanted anything to do with me, but who felt like it was his duty to take me on.
He had options. He could sign away his parental rights and I would be placed into the foster care system. Or, he could take me in. He chose the latter, although at times living with him and his new family feels more like a foster home than it probably should.
Heat rises to my face remembering that first day as I followed him up to the doors of his beautiful house, feeling like an intruder.
He cared for me in his way, helped me finish school and hired private tutors to bring my grades back from the brink after they slipped with all that had happened. He’s more comfortable giving me money than time. Or love.
But no matter who he is, he can’t protect me from the world. The world takes everything and doesn’t wait for you to catch up. It could take my father, it could take my internship, it could take my home. Nothing is promised.
Now, here I am, and Jack only has to look me in the eye and use those words, good girl, and I’m ready to give him everything.
How silly is that? Silly girl.
As we drive, Jack asks me question after question. I don’t think anyone has ever been so interested in me. Except maybe my mom, but moms don’t count. Not like this.
He stays away from deeper subjects like my family, which for now I’m thankful. There’s some sort of glittery fairy dust in the air between us right now, and I don’t want anything to dampen the sparkle.
It’s going on two AM by the time we pull up in front of my apartment. Calling it an apartment is being generous, it’s an upstairs room in a run-down triplex with noisy pipes, peeling paint and a grouchy landlord who lives downstairs.
There’s an awkward tension building, looking at the place I call home, compared to what I’m sure is a wild contrast to how Jack lives, judging by the limo and the private doctor.
I attempt a smile as I undo my seatbelt, melting underneath the penetrating heat of his blue stare. His majestic size is more pronounced in the small space, and I can’t help staring at his eyes, as clear as the sky. So light. So blue. I’m ready to happily drown in them as heat surges between my thighs.
“Thank you,” I say when I find my voice. “Actually…I feel like thank you is not really enough for everything you’ve done for me tonight.”
“I’ve done what I wanted to do.”
He’s lingering.
“And, bonus for me, you haven’t killed me yet.”
He coughs on a laugh and I squeeze my eyes shut embarrassment clutching around my throat.
“I mean, It’s just, you could be a serial killer. Which doesn’t make a lot of sense since you took me to the hospital to be sure I was okay…so, that’s dumb. I'm sorry. That didn’t come out right at all. My mouth gets busy before checking with my brain.”
“That sounds tempting.”
Tempting. My pussy coils tight. You’re what’s tempting. His cock making room between my legs is tempting. His velvety tongue rolling over my nipples is tempting. His massive palm landing with a loud smack on my ass is tempting.
Good girl.
I draw a long breath, unsure what to say next. My heart catapults around inside my chest as I reach for the door latch and miss, slapping it around in a desperate search for a way out of my lusty embarrassment.
