“You didn’t ask.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed, making him chuckle. But I was curious. “What’s your name?”
“You really want to know my name, Princess?” He purred, his soft voice rumbling.
I nodded. “Yes, I want to know.” Ialmostcalled him daddy.
He changed the gear and even though he was wearing a suit, I could see his muscles flex and tense through the rich fabric.
“You can address me as your Daddy for now.”
4
THIRSTY
CHELSEA
Irolled my eyes so hard that I was surprised I didn’t lose them in the back of my skull. I got further irritated by the sound of his chuckle, his deep voice making my hands clammy, especially when he looked at me from the corner of his eyes, mirth gleaming in them.
“Weirdo,” I murmured underneath my breath and crossed my arms, looking out of the window to hide the blush rising in my cheeks.
I couldn’t remember the last time a guy made me blush. Maybe in fourth grade when my classmate shared his favorite pen with me and told me to keep it since it had glitter in it.
This strange, handsome man definitely surpassed my fourth-grade crush.
“I am curious,” he started when we reached a fancy tall building with closed gates. I watched him type something on his phone making the gates open. He smoothly drove down the basement to the parking lot. “Why are you working at theHeavenclub?”
I blinked at him when he parked the car in the almost-empty parking lot. The only other car I could see was a shiny red Porsche.
Jesus, how rich does one have to be to stay here?
He opened the passenger door for me when I was still thinking about how to answer his question.Because I have to pay rent and my student debt?
I was fortunate enough to know that if I asked my mom, she’d cover it all in the blink of an eye. But I didn’t want to burden her—or endure one of her long lectures about how hard she’d have to work to pay my rent. I loved her, but ever since the divorce, she’d been particularly touchy about money. The thought of asking my dad for help made me shudder.
I stuck with a white lie. “My rent is due soon and… strip club seemed interesting.”
He took the lead, opening glass doors with a passcode on his phone and pressing a button for the elevator. He slid his hand in his pocket and faced me. Again, I felt small compared to him. The sheer size of him made me nervous and for a split second, I wondered if I slammed my fists hard enough on the glass doors, I could run away.
“Do you want to be a stripper?” He asked, tilting his head at me, his gaze running over my figure hidden by baggy clothes.
My stomach did the weird flip thing whenever he looked at me. His voice wasn’t filled with disgust or lust. He was genuinely curious.
“No.” I shrugged, playing with the charm dangling from my phone. “Not really. I thought being a server at a strip club would help with… stuff.”
“Stuff,” he repeated, enunciating the word.
I cleared my throat and looked away as we rode the elevator in silence. Thankfully, he didn’t question me further as we reached the top floor.
I tried my best not to balk at the marble floored hallway with a freaking chandelier and fancy jazz music playing in the background with surveillance camera.
What the fuck? The hallway alone was bigger than my room!
“Come in.”
I turned around to see him leaning on the door with an arm, gesturing me to step inside. He looked like a hot vampire inviting me to his deadly abode. I clutched the straps of my handbag tighter and made my way in.
The scent of luxury lingered in the air—a subtle mix of freshly polished wood, clean linen, and the faint musk of designer candles, exuding notes of amber and bergamot. When he leaned closer to offer me house slippers, I was hit with a fresh scent of rain and musk.
