Chapter 1
Rueger
“I know what you want,” Lexi half shouts as she approaches me, pointing her order pad in my direction with a smile that lights up my very soul.
You have no fucking idea what I want. If you did, you’d be probably be running.
But I’d be chasing you.
Moe’s is busier than usual today, but even when it’s quiet, it’s loud. Customers shout orders, counter workers shout right back.
I nod and watch the pencil slip from behind her ear to between her fingers, flicking a loose tendril of hair so that it glints in the sunlight. She scribbles down my usual order before spinning on her heel, and without another word, she’s heading toward the kitchen.
The shouting is part of the shtick here.
Moe’s Loud Vegan Deli. The name says it all.
I shift a bit in the hard, wooden chair, trying to keep my growing erection from getting too painful inside my boxers. The lunch line trails right out the door, disappearing beyond the long expanse of windows that cross the front of Moe’s.
My venture capital will do well here. It will be my last handpicked baby before I turn over the reins of my company completely. I’ve got zero worries about making sure our return on our investment pans out on this one.
Even without me to handhold things from here on out, it’s a solid play for a few million and the guidance from my team on the expansion. Fuck, the first time I took a bite of Moe’s portabella and tofu chipotle burger two months ago, I knew I would invest in this little chain of vegan delis, and nothing I’ve seen since has changed my mind.
The day I came here was the day I was sent to meet the young lady who was to be my newest individual sponsorship through my Count On program for low-risk offenders on probation. For each sponsorship, I pick a new state from an old hat that belonged to someone special to me, which I keep in my office. Inside are the remainder of the fifty states I’d written down on folded scraps of yellow legal paper six years ago when I started this.
New geography for each mentee immerses me in their world. Allows me to focus on them and to see life from another perspective. Every city has a soul and a vibe of its own.
My program has been successful for years, with over six thousand mentors across the country. It’s another baby of mine, and that day I was here to meet her.
Little did I know how much my life would change that day.
Lexi Chase.
Female. Portland, Oregon. Three arrests, all for petty theft. What caught my eye was what she had stolen.
First offense was for stealing a stuffed sloth toy from some swanky gift shop.
Second offense was for lifting three of those candy necklaces from a drugstore.
Third, and this one still has me shaking my head, a package of adult diapers.
Since we’ve been spending time together, I found out the story on that last one.
Turns out a care worker for an older woman in a previous apartment building mentioned them to Lexi and also mentioned the woman’s monthly check hadn’t arrived, so she wouldn’t have the money to buy them until it came. Lexi had balls enough to stuff a package of them under her T-shirt at the grocery store and try to pretend she was pregnant and walk out. When I asked her about it, she said she’d had four dollars, but when she got to the store, she saw they were far more expensive than what she thought, and no way was she letting the poor woman go without until her check came.
My program helps give current or former foster kids now on probation a mentor. Someone to count on. Someone to help keep track of their employment. Secure, decent housing for them. Give them a new vision of what their lives could be.
But it’s not my financial investment or merely checking up on my sponsorship that brings me here; that’s just the pretense under which I sit here in the center of this chaos twice a week.
No, I consider her my investment. My most precious one ever. I want to invest my knowledge. My wisdom. My care. My everything. I want to invest my very soul.
In her.
And I want to invest copious amounts of time with my mouth on her pussy. And with her pussy taking my cock.
That pussy was made to be mine.
I’ve known it since the first moment I laid eyes on her. Her pussy exists solely for my pleasure. And the rest of her exists to be under my care. To receive my love.
I’m just not sure
she will understand the enormity of what that means. So, here I sit. For the sixteenth time since I first saw her. Ordering a triple espresso and pie-sized cinnamon roll, contemplating how she will ever understand who I am to her.
Who we were meant to be together.
I watch her through the window of her studio apartment, watch her coming and going, watch her bringing in her groceries, or just taking out her fucking trash.
I rented a place directly across from hers for the sole purpose of watching her. I also bought a house. That same day. Cash on the spot because something in my gut told me someday this would be home.
That’s how fucking gone I am over this girl.
Is that wrong? Maybe. Am I a sick fuck for watching her like I do?
Probably.
But truth is, I don’t know what the fuck to do with all these feelings. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
For all my success, I’ve lived in an emotional safe zone since as far back as I can remember. A place where I have never cared enough for someone to risk the pain of losing them. The risk versus reward just never seemed like a good investment for me.
Until now.
I’m sure I’ll fuck it up. I’m terrified I’ll fuck it up. That’s why I’ve been planning so carefully. Since that first day. I’ve been planning.
Hoping if I can control it all, she’ll understand.