I remember them from yesterday. From the quick glance I shouldn’t have taken.
A warmth swells below my belly, and I race back upstairs. Maybe if I just put some distance between us…
But when I get back to my room and shut the door, I just feel like I’ve imprisoned myself. I have nothing to distract me but prayer, and we’ve seen how well that went already.
I feel ridiculous for running. But what other choice do I have? Stay and gawk at my half-naked step-brother?
No, I’ll just wait until he’s gone, then I’ll go about my day.
It takes him a painful thirty-seven minutes to leave the kitchen. Once I hear his footsteps fade and the back door open, I burst from my room and race downstairs.
His dirty dishes are in the sink. I guess he expects me to do them for him, seeing as how I’m his new housemaid and under his complete control.
He hasn’t even bothered to wash them off. It’s like he wants to make my job harder. Oh, well. I grab a sponge and get to work.
Once I’m finished, I’m about to pour a bowl of cereal when I notice a handwritten list by the counter. I know instantly it’swritten by Amon. The handwriting, elegant yet bold, somehow fits him perfectly.
Your Chores for Today:
Sweep and vacuum all of downstairs.
Dust every room.
Take out the trash.
Do my laundry.
“Domylaundry…” I take a deep breath and set the note back down. “Arrogant son of a…”
I stop myself. I shouldn’t curse. It’s wrong. But the whiplash I’m experiencing from last night to this morning has me completely off kilter.
Although I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise, my…punishmentlast night awakened something in me. And Amon is responsible.
I thought it may have brought us closer in some way, but I see now from this note with a list of my duties that it hasn’t.
I’m just a servant to him. A plaything. And still, despite all that, I can’t stop myself from buzzing as I grab the broom and begin my chores.
I’ll eat once I’m finished. I just want to get this over with while he’s still outside. Then I’ll get my cereal and take it up to my room and hide. I don’t think I can handle another confrontation with him today.
Last night’s events prod at me like a splinter under my skin.Your first orgasm…That’s what he said to me. Somehow, he knew about my lack of experience. It’s like he knows everything about me.
I’m putting his clothes in the dryer when I hear a sound behind me. Before I can turn, Amon’s voice shakes me. “Make sure it’s tumble dry. No heat.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I reply, quickly changing the setting.
His eyes probe me without restraint. He may want no heat on his clothes, but he has no problem setting my body on fire. I turn so he can’t see my cheeks go red.
He glances at the laundry I’ve already finished and folded—just some towels and things. My heart is pounding. Why am I desperate for his approval?
Slowly, he steps closer, his sheer presence filling the room. He’s wearing khakis and a shirt now, but they can’t hide his Adonis physique. How can one man have so many muscles?
I’m tingling again. My same secret places that were stimulated last night start buzzing with anticipation. He reaches an arm out, and I brace myself for his touch—
But he reaches past me, grabs one of the towels, and examines it. My body relaxes as I let out a sigh of relief.
“Not bad,” he says. “But not great.”
“Not great?” I don’t get him. How great can he want a towel to be washed and dried?
