Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Until now…
Now she’s everywhere. I see her face in the blank white walls, in the mirror when I wash my face, in the blank screen of the powered-off television.
Cassandra. Her sweet lips pressed to mine. Her slim waist in my hand. Her scent, still clinging to my skin like heavenly fire. I haven’t showered. I taste her every time I breathe. My cock has been pulsing with lust for hours, aching like it’s bruised, as the sweetness of her delicate, innocent voice just will not leave me alone.
I almost gave in. I almost took her completely, snatched her clothes off and broke her in with a good fucking like she was begging for. And maybe I would have if Clarisse hadn’t shown up at just the right time to interrupt us.
Cassandra is everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman, and more. I’ve been absolutely dying to have her since the moment she walked onto the tennis court, shining like temptation personified.
But she’s promised to another man. A rich and powerful man.
Arthur.
The son of a bitch who owns the estate where I work and signs the checks that let me pay my rent. He’s the kind of man who moves the world, and me? I’m just the help. A blue-collar workhorse unfit for a woman like Cassandra.
I slam my fist against the windowsill and drop my head, my body a whirlwind of turmoil and guilt. I’m doing my best to take the high road–keep my hands off her. But I also promised her I wouldn’t skip out on her again.
And I did.
She must hate me. Think I’m some kind of loser who can’t even keep a simple promise to the woman he’s falling madly in love with. But that’s just it. It’s because I’m so desperate for her that I must stay away. Because if I get close again, who knows what will happen?
I want to drive over there now and confess my love for her, but I can’t. So I do the only thing I know to do when I’m in a tough spot–I go running. I lace up my shoes and head out to the trails behind my apartment. Five miles, then six, then seven…then ten. Every stride a whisper of an echo in my mind as Cassandra refuses to get out of my brain.
All I want is a moment of clarity so I can process a way forward.
But it doesn’t work. All I can think about is her.
When I finally make it back to the apartment, I see my resignation letter sitting on the table where I left it.
“It’s time,” I say out loud. “You know it is.”
I want to fight for her, but there’s no fight to be had. How can a guy like me go up against Arthur? He could buy my entire block and burn it all to the goddamn ground. I’ve never felt so helpless or directionless in my entire life. This is not the kind of man I am. If I want something, I go for it. But when it comes to Cassandra, I don’t see that I have any other choice.
The air on the estate grounds is shimmering with the late-afternoon heat when I pull up in my truck and park in the lot. My legs are still burning from the run, and I’m drenched in sweat. I gaze around the grounds, hoping for once to not see Cassandra out for a walk. This is the one time I don’t want to see her.
I mean–I do, but it would only make what I’m about to do infinitely harder. If not impossible.
As I step out of the truck, I see Arthur’s Bentley by the front. I’ve always thought it was a gorgeous car, but today, it just makes me grimace. I walk past it on my way to the door, and as I glance to my right, that’s when I see her.
Through the ornate wood framing of the drawing room window, Cassandra sits on the edge of a velvet couch that probably costs more than my truck. She’s not wearing athletic gear today; she’s in a tight off-white dress with lace and pearls that makes her look like a doll. Her hands are folded in her lap and her back is straight, as though she has strings pulling her up by the shoulders. And in front of her, leaning in too close for me, is Arthur.
He moves closer, resting his hand on the couch beside her like he owns her. Even from here, I can see her jaw tighten, the motion in her throat as she swallows nervously. She looks frozen in place, like she’s terrified of this man who has no right to be near her. I can tell she wants to get up and run, but she’s doing what’s expected of her. She’s performing.