Earning Her Keep (Price of Love)

If it is real, I don’t know what I’ll do. But for now, I just make myself enjoy this moment. This place. This man.

He offers his hand to me, and I stand up, my knees feeling unsure, wobbly, my thighs sticky and red.

He guides me up the few stairs into the tub and then helps me ease down into the water. The bubbles envelop my soreness, soothing the ache in my thighs. I sink down into the warm, luxurious water, balling myself up with a sigh.

He kneels at the edge of the tub, all rippling muscles and power against gleaming white marble. Very gently, very sweetly, he bathes every inch of my body. He is meticulous about it, focused and attentive. He even reaches gently down between my legs, touching me there, in that place that belongs to him. I hiss a little when he touches it. “I think you tore me just a little.”

“Sorry, not sorry,” he growls.

“Me neither,” I say on a whisper as the pain starts to relent.

Finally, he smiles at me. Not much, nothing crazy, not even looking me in the eye. But I can see he’s happy. And that makes me happy, too.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper, placing a kiss to his rippling bicep, slippery with bubble bath.

He takes my hand and presses a kiss to my palm in return. “No, baby. Thank you.”

CHAPTER 9

Dane

The sun comes up and I realize how beautiful the day is. Something I never really considered before.

Sunlight streams in through the gaps in the curtains in my bedroom, illuminating her gorgeous hills and valleys. I pull her closer. I breathe in her sweet scent and watch the rhythmic rise and fall of her tits as she sleeps.

I realize that for the first time in my life, I slept straight through the night. With her in my arms, I finally feel calm. And fucking peaceful. Like I found my harbor in the storm.

My watch vibrates with a reminder. I pick it up from the bedside table and see reminder after missed reminder from the last day. That’s all her, making me forget myself. Making me forget the rules. And it feels fucking good. Weird, but good.

Still, though, some rules are for the best. Because it’s 7:00 a.m. And that means breakfast.

I gently release her from my embrace and part the curtains an inch to look down at the patio. Ethel is already out there, setting the table on the terrace for me. I rap on the window, which makes her spin around and look up.

I hold up two fingers, to signal to her that it’ll be two for breakfast.

She looks skeptically at me over her glasses. I know her so fucking well that I don’t even need words to interpret that look. You didn’t.

I sure-as-fuck did. And I’m goddamned proud of it. I signal to her again. Two. And then lift my hands to say I’m not fucking arguing about this. Two it is. Two it will be.

Two is what I want. The two of us together.

* * *

My life is sitting across from me on the terrace, wearing a silk robe I bought for her the first week she was here. Peach-colored silk with miniature green leaves. She looks gorgeous, but also a little sheepish as Ethel slams down a pitcher of freshly-squeezed orange juice, clanging against the iron table.

Ethel is pissed not just that breakfast is for two but that she has to do all the cooking for us now. But I give zero fucks.

“Listen, Ethel.” I reach across and hold Emily’s hand. “I know you don’t like it. But this is how it is. I want her. I have her. It’s that fucking simple.”

Ethel straightens her apron, shooting furious daggers at Emily. “But, sir…”

I shoot daggers back at Ethel and squeeze Emily’s hand. “Ethel. Don’t test me.”

That gets through to her. A little. “Understood, sir. But I could certainly use some help with things in the kitchen.”

Emily lets out a gasp of discomfort, like she’s overflowing with it, and makes a move to hop up. “I’ll help. Let me help.”

I grab her by the wrist. Hard. “Sit down. Right now.”

Her eyes widen—fear meets lust. A hot blush flushes her cheeks. “’Kay,” she whispers, and smooths her napkin over her sexy legs.

I turn to Ethel. “I’ve already left a message with the agency to send someone new today.”

Almost in unison, Ethel and Emily turn to face me, mouths falling open. And almost in unison they say, “Today?”

“Yes, today. I threw in an extra twenty,” I say. “Because you don’t work here anymore, baby.”

“I don’t?” she asks.

I shake my head and pick up my cup of coffee. “Nope. You live here now.”

And Emily blinks adorably at her fresh croissant, smiling harder than I’ve seen her smile ever before. And I promise myself, I’ll make her smile like that for the rest of our lives.