Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Did you and Sophie do anything else fun?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.
“No. Her arrangement is different than our arrangement,” Charlotte said with a wry roll of her eyes. “Honestly, is sex all you think about?”
“You’re wearing what I assume are crotchless panties. What else am I supposed to be thinking about?” I needed to sit down. I’d done a lot more walking than I was used to since before my accident. I sat on the white leather pouf near the shoes.
“She gave me a lot of tips about how to seem rich,” Charlotte went on. “For example, did you know that if celebrities are name-dropping a brand, like in songs or being seen in a lot of magazines with it, it’s not that fancy? Oh, and she said people like your family wouldn’t be into visible logos, so no Louis Vuitton luggage for me.”
“I’m not a fan of the color scheme, anyway,” I assured her.
“That’s why I got Tumi.” She gestured to a pile of assorted bags I’d walked past when I’d entered.
“You thought of everything.” I noted that the amount of luggage was not enough to pack all of the clothing, jewelry, and shoes she’d purchased. Another good sign.
Or I was reading into things too much.
“So.” She came over and sat in my lap, her fantastic, round ass on my good leg. “I don’t get a punishment, then?”
I placed one finger on her chest, between her barely contained breasts, and drew a line up the center of her throat, over her chin, to the slick, vibrant magenta gloss on her lips. “No. You have most thoroughly pleased your dragon.”
She gave me a slow smile. “I got lots of nasty underwear, in case you’re wondering. This isn’t all of it. And I’ll be wearing it this weekend, under my very appropriate clothing.”
I groaned in anticipation of the torture that would inflict on me. “I’ve thought of approximately six places I want to fucking rail you in my childhood home.”
Her nose scrunched up. “That’s disgusting.”
“That’s honesty.” I gave the small of her back a little pat. “Come on. I need something to eat before I give you your reward.”
“Yeah, I’m starving, to be honest.” She hopped to her feet and offered me her hand. “I didn’t
know how to get food here. Like, if I could order in and have them bring it up or what. And… I don’t know where the kitchen is.”
“Great. I’ve been negligent in my duties caring for and feeding you.” By now, my chef would have gone home. “I hope you haven’t been starving.”
I hoped that because I wasn’t sure what was in the refrigerator, and I was not much of a cook.
“I got McDonald’s on my way back from shopping. The driver you hired thought I was kidding.” Her cheeks flushed. “Let me put on some clothes—”
“Don’t you dare.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that an order, my dragon?”
I gave it a moment of thought. “Yes. I think it is.”
“What if I get cold?” she countered.
“Then… It’s a good thing you have a dragon to keep you warm. Are you cold right now?” I asked. When she shook her head, I gestured to the door. “Then let’s go.”
As we walked to the elevator, I explained, “The private kitchen is on the first floor. There’s a catering kitchen on the second floor, because that’s where the ballroom and formal dining room are.”
“I tried to retrace my steps from breakfast this morning,” she explained as we rode down. “I went into that dining room and through the door, but it went to storage. And I was afraid to go any farther.”
“Because you might fall out?” I joked.
She bristled. “Hey, I’m doing much better today. I almost sat on the sofa in the den.”
Considering the position of that sofa, an L-shape with its short side feet from the glass, it was an achievement for her. “I’m impressed. And that’s not sarcasm. I’m genuinely impressed.”
“I felt weird poking around your house.” She shrugged and we stepped off onto the first floor. “Intrusive, you know?”
“I should have given you the full tour, so you wouldn’t feel intrusive.” I guided her in the right direction. “But you’re welcome to intrude. You might live here one day.”
“Wouldn’t you love that?” she said with a snicker.
“Yes,” I stated flatly. No need to tell her that I already counted on it happening. “Now, if you’d kept on going through that butler’s pantry you went into earlier, you would have found the kitchen. But from outside…”
I steered her around the corner and past the dining room, to the nondescript kitchen entrance.
“I was so close!” She grimaced and pushed down the door handle, and we stepped inside.
As I predicted, it was dark and clean and deserted. I hadn’t remembered to ask Steven to leave dinner for us. At least, Charlotte would have a chance to write him a note about her breakfast preferences. But in the meantime… “You don’t happen to know how to cook, do you?”