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I shrug my shoulders and lean my back against the back of the chair, arms crossed over my chest, giving my best impression of ease. “That’s fine. I’ll just call the police and have him arrested for embezzlement.”
Reaching for the phone I wait for her to tell me no. Her gaze slides from me to Max, his face sweaty and pleading, and back to me.
“What does my staying with you entail?” She takes a step back, a hand at her throat, her gaze drills onto my face as if trying to yank the intentions out of my head, putting more distance between us as if that will help her.
“Whatever I need.” I wink, waiting for her next move. Next objection. She still doesn’t realize she can’t win. No objection can override my command. “If I make a mess and I tell you to clean it up. You do it. If I want you to do the dishes. You do it. Any more questions?” I know I’m being an ass, I can’t help it. The need I have for her drives me to a whole new level of assholery. I want to drive her away. Push her, to do what I don’t know.
Katrina bites her bottom lip, her gaze brushes over my face like a touch of her hands. I can only imagine what that feels like. But I want her soft hands on my cock. Stroking. Holding it double-fisted. My hands slowly close into fists. This girl is making me crazy.
I stand and stalk around the desk making her move further away. I sit my ass on the edge of the desk, cross my arms over my chest, my face stern, waiting for her response.
“You can move in, in the morning.”
“No. I’m not living with you.” She spits the words out like they are poison and glares like I’m the snake ready to attack.
“Yes. You are. Anything I want. Remember? And that’s what I want. You close.” I smile, imagining what I will do to her. Katrina on her knees as if in supplication, gazing up at me, her pink lips red and swollen and cum leaking out the edges of her mouth. Fuck. Now I’m really uncomfortable.
“But. You. You. You.” She stutters, her blue eyes wide, flicking through the room, not able to think clearly of what to say. Fear of the unknown slides in and out of her eyes. She wraps her arms about herself, her body language speaks of being unsettled and alarmed.
The thump thump thump of the party wafts through the walls and closed door reminding me I need to get out there and at least make an appearance. Bolster the employees up for better profits next year.
“That’s it. You show up at my house tomorrow morning or I call the police. Your choice.”
I roll up to Griffin’s mansion in my little, red ’65 VW Bug, I had restored with red exterior and interior, with a great new sound system. This is my car. I bought it with my own money, not my father's. I put the car into park and when I look up Griffin is standing in the doorway, legs widespread, hands on the upper sill of the door. My gaze turns into a glare, my outrage at how he’s forced me here to do God knows what has me both angry and filled with trepidation. But also, a hint of excitement at what he wants with me. I’ve always had a crush on him, being so handsome and dynamic. He’s always pretty much ignored me my whole life. Sure, he’s been there for holidays and birthdays, so has a lot of people. Sometimes when my father was gone on business Griff was there instead. When he and my father would be talking business, I’d be hanging in the background, listening and not understanding anything but hanging on every word. Not wanting to leave in case I missed something important in regard to Griff.
Now he has me here. My heart is pounding and I bite my lip, the anticipation of what he wants is a titillation that rips through my body. He must want me for more than just housekeeping. Fear fights with the anticipation. When I was sixteen my first boyfriend raped me. He was a hot quarterback and so well thought of I knew if I reported it, it would backfire on me, so I hid the rape. I haven’t had sex since. The thought of it sometimes brings that night back and all my insecurities and flashbacks of that night. And sometimes I want someone to show me what good sex is, that it’s not pain and humiliation. I want passion, a fever of excitement. Love?
I scowl at him, showing him how I should feel. Not how I actually do. Stepping out of my car I watch him like he’s a raptor ready to pounce on the carrion meal it’s been anticipating. He stands in the same spot, in the same position, watching. Waiting. A vulture. A lion. I’m the prey.
Walking to him I try to muster all the confidence I can try to portray. To convince him of emotions I’m not feeling. A confidence that flounders with my shaking hands I try to hide in the light jacket I’m wearing. Hoping I can get control of my body in the next few seconds.
“Well. Well. Well. Decided to take me up on my offer I see.” The self-satisfied smirk is not only all over his face but all through his deep, sexy voice. A voice that could win a platinum best-seller if he was a frontman in a rock band. And being as good-looking as he is. Double whammy.
“Yeah, good offer.”
“If it keeps your father out of prison? I’d say it’s a great offer.” He moves one step back and waves for me to enter. I eye him like his hand holds a sword to stab me with.
He hasn’t moved much, so our bodies have to touch when I try to go by. My heart and stomach leap at the warmth that blisters me through both of our layers of clothes. His cock a log against his thigh, ready to bash through the layers of defenses I’ve tried to build. His dark eyes promise desires unfulfilled as of now, but later? It is a promise as if he’s been waiting for me to grow up. To reach the age I am now to set his plan in motion.
“Gee thanks. An offer to prostitute myself in exchange for my father. Per…”
Griff reaches out, yanking me close, my body mashing against his. “Don’t ever say that word again to describe yourself.” He grinds out, the anger snaps against me, whipping my body like an invisible lash.
I flinch, the lashing of his voice enough of a punishment. He groans, lowering his head, little by little down to me, his large hands slide around my sides to my back, pulling me closer. Close enough my body is plastered to him almost as if we were one, our breaths become one. I wait for him to kiss me, his mouth brushes over mine and I try to stretch up to meet his, but his slips away from mine.
“Come on. I’ll show you to your room. Give me your keys and one of my men will move your car to the garage and bring your luggage up.”
I didn’t want to give him my keys. I’m not sure he’ll give them back. But what choice do I have? If he wants to keep me here, he has the power. What no one talks about is his mafia connections. He’s cousins to the Marino mafia family here in Bay City. His mother and their father are siblings. Aunt Angelina is still alive and living in Milan.
He takes the keys from my limp hand and leads me up the stairs and hangs a left to the second door on the right. I’m going to have to remember that because there are a lot of doors. There’s another set of stairs in the corner, there is even a third floor. Dad has a big house. A mansion even but nothing like this.
He opens the door and hangs back for me to enter before him. The room before me is magnificent. A beauty in femininity and class. A canopied queen bed with gauzy white veils, pale green walls and cherry-colored bed. A small sofa against the far wall, small cherry-colored coffee table and desk. Wish this was my room permanently.
“Why don’t you get yourself situated, and come down in about half an hour for coffee or whatever you want?”
All I can do is nod, I get nervous as I think about why I might be here. Griff closes the door behind him and I stare about the room I’m going to be living in for the next three months. I don’t know what to do with myself. My suitcases aren’t here yet so there isn’t anything for me to do right now. I spy the double balcony doors and I go to them. I step out the doors onto a spacious balcony overlooking a magnificent sight. Bay Lake. The lake is acres long. I don’t know how many, but it’s a beautiful sight. Deep blue, weeping willows along with other trees, bushes and tall grasses. Griffin must have paid a boat load of money for this property. Only a select few have houses overlooking the lake but I guess having mafia as family and being a multi-billionaire gives you all you need for something like this.
It’s starting to get a little chilly, I have none of my clothes yet so I don’t have a heavier sweater. I wrap the light jacket I’m wearing tighter about my body, a strong breeze blowing in over the lake bringing slight whitecaps to the surface. I shiver, hurrying out of the room, down the stairs I at the bottom not sure where to go now.
