A warm wave of pleasure builds and I point my toes, curling my feet as my orgasm overtakes me, blotting out everything as I pulse against his hard length. His pace quickens and he comes, groaning, spilling his hot seed deep inside me.
We lay together, our breathing slowing. He wraps his big body around mine, cradling me in his arms. I close my eyes for a second.
Morning light floods through the blinds. For a moment I have no idea where I am. Weston is quietly snoring next to me. His face is so relaxed and content that I don’t want to wake him. Patch has crawled on the bed during the night and is sleeping on Weston’s feet.
I ease myself out from under his arm, putting my clothes on just in case his security team is lurking anywhere downstairs. Heading downstairs to find coffee, I pick up my backpack and locate my phone.
Luckily Grandma’s visiting her friend in Bakersville and doesn’t get back until later this morning, so my absence last night isn’t a problem. I fix myself some coffee and check myphone. While I’m looking at today’s schedule, a news alert pops up on my phone.
Breaking News: Billionaire Weston Bennett in massive takeover deal with tech scion Ramie Blentock. More to follow at contract signing announcement in San Francisco tonight.
Clutching my phone in one sweaty hand, I stand still. Weston didn’t mention anything about the deal. He gave me the impression he’d left San Francisco far behind and his new life was in Snowflake Falls. If he hasn’t been honest about this, what else hasn’t he told me?
There’s a lump in my throat and it’s like I’ve been frozen in place. He lied. I walk out of the kitchen to stare at the ridiculous sculpture in the hallway. How could I ever think this would work? I’m a cleaning lady, he’s a billionaire. I’m sure he told me whatever line was most convenient to get me to tumble into bed with him.
A shadow on the other side of the glass of the front door has me on high alert. Someone’s coming inside. I just want to get out of here and process my thoughts. I run down the hallway, clutching my backpack to my chest.
Once I’m at the back door, I straddle my bike. I’m tender as I hop on the seat and pedal away from the house. Pedaling faster and faster, the wind blows fresh cold air in my face and my hair streams out behind me. I don’t let myself look back.
As I speed away from Weston's house, I replay our encounter. The way he looked at me, his touches, the need in his voice. His deep rumbling laugh against my naked body. How safe I was in his arms. I pedal harder, trying to outrun the emotions churning inside me. I push through the pain in my thighs and the sting in my eyes from the wind, but the ache in my heart doesn’t budge.
As I approach the edge of town, Grandma's old pickup truck is parked by the side of the road. She must have decided to comehome early after all. I slow down and pull over, trying to brush the tears from my face.
“Hi, Grandma," I say, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably.
“Mornin’ Savvy. Hey honey, what’s wrong?” She gets out of the truck, wincing a little as her feet hit the ground.
Her expression is concerned. I must look bad..
“Everything. Nothing. How was Bakersville?” I dismount, wheeling my bike up to the house.
“Busy. You didn’t answer my question.” She hooks her arm in mine.
“Well, I’ve lost my job. Or left my job.”
“Which job?” We walk through the front yard. The air is getting colder and there’s a gray cloud starting to blot out the sun.
“The billionaire.”
“The safe room guy? You want me to go have words with him?” She draws herself up to her full height, about level with my shoulder.
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I did something stupid. I’ll find something else.”
“Would my famous tonic help?” She pats my arm. I swallow. Grandma’s tonic is disgusting. She adds a pinch of oregano to it, for some unknown reason, and it tastes like week-old spaghetti.
“Of course. Thanks.”
“You work real hard, Savvy. It’s going to pay off. I have a lot of faith in you and your business. Just you wait.”
I hold the door open for her and we go inside. I have three hours before I’m due at my next job. I head upstairs to have a shower. As I’m getting undressed, my phone beeps. It’s a message from the woman at the hotel I pitched my products to a few days ago.
Hi Savannah. We were so impressed with Snowflake Botanicals we gave your samples to the head of the hotel chain. She loved them and we’d like to talk about stocking them in all our hotels. If you have time to come in to see me in about an hour, it would be great to discuss this further.
Staring at my phone, I blink. I could pay off my loan early. Get my business going and not have to work so hard. This could be life-changing. So why do I feel like there’s something missing?
I better have a shower and get ready. And put the memory of Weston Bennett in a mental folder marked ‘Do Not Open’.
Chapter Six
