He wasn’t kidding when he told me that he wanted to control everything about me. “Will Mr. Broussard be pleased if I have an omelet for breakfast?”
“That would please him greatly.”
“Good.” I like omelets and I haven’t had one in a long time.
Ray doesn’t disappoint on the omelet. I’m pretty sure that I won’t mind eating breakfast if I have a meal like this one prepared for me every morning. “Thank you, Ray. That was delicious.”
“My pleasure, miss.”
He takes my empty plate and glass before I get up from the table. “I don’t mind taking care of that.”
“Taking care of that is my job.”
And my job is… to make Mr. Broussard come. With my hand. With my mouth. With my vagina. With my… I can’t even make myself have that thought.
I don’t want to think about my job. I’d prefer to explore this beautiful home instead.
“How old is this house?”
“Built in 1857.”
I quickly do the math in my head. “Wow, 161 years old and still so lovely. That’s impressive.”
I think about all of the people who must have come and gone beneath this roof. The babies that have been born. The people who have died. This house is probably haunted by a hundred different ghosts.
“What street are we on?”
“St. Charles Avenue.”
Right. Because where else would Tristan Broussard live if not in the Garden District?
“Is this the biggest house on this street?”
“Yes, miss. Eight bedrooms.”
Figures. “Why in the world would he need a house with eight bedrooms?”
“No reason that he shouldn’t have the biggest house on the street. He’s a wealthy man, as I’m sure you must be aware.”
Shit. A troubling thought strikes me: I’ve assumed all of this time that he was single. Hell, he might be married with a dozen kids for all that I know. “Is Mr. Broussard single?”
“Of course.” He answers as though I’m silly for asking.
I wonder if he knows that his employer is a Dom. That he drugged and kidnapped me. I would think he’d have to know these things with his living under the same roof.
Tristan said that I would call him Master in the bedroom and Sir when we were speaking casually. I wonder which he wants me to call him in front of Ray.
Still so many things to sort out in this bizarre relationship.
“I’ve always admired the homes in the Garden District, but I’ve never had the opportunity to go inside one. Is it all right if I look around?”
“I’d find it odd if you didn’t, considering that you’re going to be living here with Mr. Broussard.”
Tristan told Ray that I would be living here? I wonder how he explained the living arrangements for his new guest.
“Don’t overlook the garden in the back. It’s in full bloom. Tons of color and fragrance. But watch out for the bees; they’re out and about, pollinating.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them.”
