The color rises in her cheeks. It’s the first physical sign of emotion I’ve seen today. Even when she talked about the rose, she didn’t seem agitated. I usually like it when people are cool under pressure, but in her case it’s suspect.
“Oh, so you remember that day when I tried to make everyone breakfast?” she says, trying for friendliness. “You were great actually.”
My muscles tighten. There’s no way we’re strolling down memory lane to the time before everything went to hell.
“You’ve had your chance to talk, Avery. The cleaning supplies are under the sink in both bathrooms. The laundry room’s in the basement. When you finish, let me know, so I can lock the door when you leave.”
Avery shoots to her feet. “I don’t feel safe in the dorm. Someone’s always leaving the main door propped open for a boyfriend, even though it’s insane to do that right now with Casanova on the prowl.”
“Not my problem.”
“You really don’t care if I’m abducted and victimized?”
I school my face to give nothing away. “I don’t,” I lie.
Avery’s blue eyes go wide behind her glasses. “What a prick you’ve turned out to be.”
I almost tell her to be careful, but I don’t. Let her stomp out in outrage. I don’t even really want her in the house long enough to clean. It was a mistake letting her in. I wanted to play with her, but it’s fucking with my own head too.
She surprises me by not using what I said as an excuse to stalk out without doing the cleaning.
“If I thought you didn’t care that girls are getting hurt, I wouldn’t have come.” Her tone is accusatory. Like she expects me to cave in and admit I lied, which I won’t. That would open the door on a conversation I do not want to have with her.
“But,” she continues, “you kept your word to hear me out, so I’ll get to work.”
Good enough. Her in some other part of the house will be better.
I jog upstairs ahead of her to be sure the middle room’s door is locked and then I head back down to the main floor to stay as far away from her as possible as she works.
After about an hour, she’s finished, and she comes into the kitchen to wash her hands. Then she walks over to the kitchen table where I’m sitting.
“I’m done, but I want to ask you one last time to let me stay here. There must be something you need, Shane. A personal assistant to run errands? Everyone says you burn the candle at both ends. Taking classes, side hustles, aggressive partying. When was the last time you slept in? You look as if you don’t even have time to shave these days.”
She has me there. I’ve blown off classes and even some appointments. A haircut’s long overdue. And I need one before I go to the next family meeting. But if I was going to hire someone to help me, it definitely wouldn’t be the precious little princess who swung a wrecking ball through my life.
“The only thing someone like you could do for me is drop to your knees and suck my cock on command.”
She stares at me, and her lack of reaction is one for the books. After a pause that seems to last forever, she asks, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious.”
She presses her pouty pink lips together, maybe to keep them from parting to let a string of curses spew. “You’re such a jerk.”
I shrug.
After a moment, she says softly, “Not on command. But once a week I think I could manage.”
My body goes still. What the fuck? Is she playing right now?
I keep my voice even. “Once a week is nothing.”
That’s a complete lie. Having her on her knees with my cock in her mouth even once would be satisfying as hell. I’m silent a moment, reveling in the dawning surprise that she’d consider trading the use of her mouth for a place to live. How scared must she be to even contemplate something like this?
I try to put myself in her place, try to imagine how a woman must have to worry when there’s a monster lurking nearby who likes to carry girls just like her off to unknown places to violate them. No matter how I try to relate, I can’t. I’ve been in situations where I had to fight for my life. When it was over, it was just over.
“Not any time all day long. I can’t be in sexual boot camp with you telling me to drop and give you…”
“Head?” I offer, pleased by the flush on her face. For once, she’s actually flustered when the situation warrants it.
