Laying here in the sand with my eyes closed, the sun beating down on my skin, and the gentle whisper of waves, I can almost pretend I’m on some extravagant vacation. That I’ve finally earned enough to treat myself to some well-deserved ‘me’ time. I get three full meals a day with various snacks in between, courtesy of my own house chef, and all balanced for optimal nutrition, thanks to my personal nutritionist. I get to spend as much time on the beach or in the private theater, garden, swimming pool, and game room as I want.
Almost.
It’s the times I’m not alone that I can’t forget what this really is. It all comes back in crystal clarity when bent over the railing of the upstairs balcony, moaning for the garden boys to hear. Or when I’m on my knees under the dinner table gagging on something that is not part of my special meal plan. Or when I’m graced with the presence of the family doctor to make sure I’m keeping up on my birth control. We can’t have a bastard child now, could we?
Part of me likes to imagine that Rafe makes sure I have the best because he cares for me, that he wants me healthy purely out of that desire to make me happy. But I know it’s a lie. Every meal I eat, every doctor visit, it’s all adding up the total of my debts. Racking that bill up to that, I’ll never be able to pay it off. Sometimes I think maybe I should be flattered that he’s going through such extreme measures to keep me here, but I know that’s just self-assurance to keep myself sane.
It could be worse, I’m sure. I could be locked up like those girls you see on tv. Or actually mistreated. I should be grateful that I get what I have. Isn’t this better than how I was living my life? I couldn’t answer that honestly. Just as I couldn’t tell you why my heart still aches with every sweet touch that Rafe lays on my skin. Why I still crave to please him even as it tears my mind apart. There’s a small chest of hope hiding behind my ribs, a small flickering flame that says he cares for me. Despite how much I want to drop that chest into the sea and let it float away, I keep it locked up, let it warm my belly when I’m feeling a little too lost.
My skin suddenly cools, the sun disappearing through my closed eyelids and I let out a long breath through my nose. I don’t need to open them to know who has come for me. When Rafe clears his throat, I finally open my eyes, staring at him upside down as he stands over me.
“We’re having Lunch with my Father and some of his associates. I need you to get ready.”
Sighing, I slowly stand, wiping sand from my skin as I do. When I turn around to face Rafe, my movements stutter from the look on his face. He reaches forward, a long finger hooking into the front string of my orange bikini top. Despite how many times he’s touched me, how many times he’s kissed me, he still makes my breath catch in my lungs and my skin buzz. That insecure girl he found at the diner still lives inside of me and every stroke of his fingers reminds me of that.
“You’ll wear that navy dress I got you. The one with the lace.” He tugs me closer by that string and my body instantly responds despite how much I hate myself for it. Those wolfish teeth of his bare down at me as he watches my nipples harden through the thin fabric of my bathing suit, his head dropping to nip at my lips. “Orange looks good on you.”
I wait until his mouth pulls back before responding, my fingers gripping the orange strings hanging from the bottoms on my hips. “It’s my favorite color.”
He hums out a small chuckle, his finger slipping away from my top as he steps back. “It might be mine now.” He turns away, knowing I’ll follow.
Staring at his retreating back for just a moment before trailing his steps, I watch the way his shoulders shift as he walks, the muscles bunching below the fabric of his shirt. He’s dressed more formal than usual, a white dress shirt and slacks in place of his tee and denim. Although I’m with him every day and every night, I know little to nothing about him. It might be better that way, considering the nature of our situation, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to know. I want to know everything.
In a sick, weird way, finding out more about Rafe makes it easier for me to pretend. I already know how he likes me to be and I perfect that look every day. But maybe, if I do other small things that don’t have to do with me, he’ll like me even more. Staying in the same room with him I’ve been able to find a few pieces to my Rafe puzzle. I know that he sleeps on his back and he isn’t a cuddler. I know that he would rather drink gin than vodka. And I know that he prefers his eggs scrambled to fried. It isn’t much, but having even a few pieces of the puzzle is better than having none.
Grabbing my towel I shake it out and quickly wrap it around myself. Catching up to him, my feet burn as they sink into the sand. “What’s your favorite color? Your real favorite color?”
He glances over at me, those steely grays heavy like the metal weights they’re colored as. “Why?”
I shrug, my arms folding over my chest as we walk. He always finds a way to unnerve me even with the simplest of questions. “I just…I would like to know, please.”
“Only because you asked so nicely.” He smirks at my blushing cheeks, looking away from me as we get closer to the house. “Purple.”
It’s not the color I was expecting him to say and I’m smiling when he looks back at me for my reaction.
“Why are you smiling like that? Is my sweet girl not being so sweet?”
“What? No, I just thought you would have said blue or something.” He hums at my answer, one of his palms on my lower back guiding me up the stairs once we get inside. “Are we eating here?” I haven’t left the property since we got here so it’s a far-fetched question.
“Yes. Why? Hoping to run away?” It’s asked low in my ear, his body pressing close to mine as we get to the top of the landing. I jump when his hand grabs my ass at the door to his room, squeezing through my towel as my hand grips onto the handle. “There’s nowhere you could run that I couldn’t find you, Ember. Remember that.”
He reaches around me, hand wrapping around my own to open the door. Stepping around me he goes inside, walking straight to the bedroom. I silently follow him, his words chilling my mood. He has a way of doing that. He can never let us have a normal conversation. He’s already pulled the dress he wants me to wear from the closet and it’s lying on the bed. He tosses a pair of black heels next to it, a matching set of lingerie set down last, stormy grays watching me expectantly where I stand.
I swallow, stepping forward to grab the dress to go change in the bathroom but his voice stops me, reading my mind. “Change here.”
Knowing arguing with him is pointless, I bite the inside of my cheek and let my towel drop to the floor. Avoiding Rafe’s gaze, I reach behind my back to untie the strings of my bikini top. I’m moving quickly, trying to get this over with. My top drops to the floor with the towel, my hands slightly shaking from the amount of attention I’m getting and I slide my bottoms over my hips and down my legs.
Grabbing the black lace panties from the bed I hurriedly step into them. My heart drops when Rafe’s deep voice washes over me. “Slower.”
Casting a small glance his way I can see he’s enjoying this, the large bulge in his trousers hard to miss. His arms are crossed over his chest, shoulder resting against the doorframe as if he’s unbothered despite his erection.
Not wanting to start something over this, I briefly close my eyes as I pull up my panties, letting them glide over my skin in a more appealing way than I was before. My bra is put on next and I make sure to face Rafe even though I don’t actually look him in the face. Once the dress is pulled up by my hips, I give him my back as I hold the strapless front to my chest. “Can you zip me up?”
I hear his footsteps on the floor, each one making my heart beat harder in my chest. He scoops my hair up in one hand, winding it around his fist as his lips drift over the back of my neck. “It’s too bad we have somewhere to be.” His fingers skirt along my spine as he zips my dress up, releasing my hair. Before I can step forward though, he’s grabbing my hips and pressing his erection into my ass. “Later.”
My skin flushes when he lets me go and I stumble forward before catching myself on the bed. He chuckles at my back as I grab my shoes, stepping out of the room as I slip them on. Looking in the mirror from the bathroom doorway I run my fingers through my hair. I guess that’ll have to do. I hurry out of the room, my heels lightly clacking against the hardwood as I rush to where Rafe is waiting for me. He opens the door and I walk back out into the hallway, waiting for him to direct me. Although I’ve been here for weeks now, I still don’t really know my way around. Not to mention there are several dining halls.
It’s quiet as we walk but for the sound of our shoes, and I find that each tap has my chest tightening with anxiety. “You said we were eating with your dad?”
“I did.”
I nod, even though he isn’t looking at me, his attention mostly on his phone. “What uh, what do you do?” Rafe looks over at me and I stammer out the rest. “Like for work.”
He puts his phone away, his fingers wrapping around my elbow as he leads me down a hallway I haven’t been before. “Why the sudden interest?” He smiles at the exasperated look on my face. “Let’s just say politics.”
That’s hardly an answer. Biting back the remark I really want to say, I respond with, “Interesting” instead.
He chuckles, his hand rising to cup the back of my neck under my hair as we turn to walk through a large archway. There is a giant dark wood table in the middle of the room, several men already seated. I stiffen when I realize I’m the only woman here, all of their gazes snapping to me the second we walk through the door. Rafe doesn’t seem to care, his thumb swiping along the back of my neck as he guides me to a chair near the end of the table.
“Nice of you to show up.” It’s said by a man at the head of the table, his eyes narrowed on me as I take my seat. He looks vaguely familiar, the dark slashes of gray glaring at me giving me a pretty good idea of who he might be. Rafe sits between me and another man leaving my opposite side open and I’m thankful for it. “Who is this? Leave it to my son to show up late to dinner while packing one of his whores.”
I bristle in the seat, but don’t look his way, watching Rafe from my lashes as he takes a glass from one of the servers that rushed to him the moment he sat. He takes a swig from his glass. “I aim to please.”
Some of the other men chuckle at him, the one across from me raising his brows when I make the mistake of making eye contact. I quickly look away, giving the server who drops off a glass of water in front of me a small smile. It seems to be enough to break the tension because people have started talking again, mindless conversations I don't understand nor care to listen to.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” It came from the same man that was ogling me minutes ago and I debate on pretending like I don’t hear him.
Instead, I force a smile. “Ember.”
“Amber?” He smiles, his hand reaching up to loosen his tie. “That’s a pretty name.”
I shake my head, “Uh, no, It’s Em—” Rafe squeezes my thigh under the table and I pause. He is turned away from me, still talking with the man beside him. “Never mind. Thank you.”
When my food is set in front of me I use it as a distraction, putting all of my attention on it instead of any of them. Unfortunately, I can’t tune them out no matter how hard I try. Rafe’s father in particular. For the fourth time in a row, he’s singling Rafe out in the conversation.
“I imagine it’s hard for you to get any work done now that Trevor isn’t there to hold your hand at the Chicago branch.”
The other men chuckle like they have with every other remark, some of them chiming in when Rafe doesn’t respond. This time he does. “My cities have done better the last two quarters than Trevor’s did all last year, I think I’m doing fine.”
The table goes quiet, everyone but Rafe looking on edge. My stomach knots up with the tension sitting heavy on the table and I stare at my water glass.
“Well, it’s about time you stepped out of your younger brother's shadow. Maybe you aren’t such an embarrassment after all.”
I bite the inside of my cheek at the remark. Annoyed at how easily such awful things were said. Rafe’s father is clearly a narcissistic asshole. And everyone else here is just as awful. I don’t know much about Rafe, but I know he doesn’t deserve that. Moving one of my hands under the table I lay my hand on top of Rafe’s on my thigh, giving it a light squeeze. He eyes me, tongue swiping along the edge of his teeth.
He looks back toward the man beside him and his hand moves farther up my leg pushing the skirt of my dress with it. What is he doing?! Swallowing, I tighten my grip on his hand, my eyes finding the man across from me. He smiles while slurping up some of his pasta and I look down at my plate to avoid him, my uncomfort almost palpable. Using my other hand I pull my skirt down, trying to shift my legs to the side. Rafe either doesn’t notice the pasta man watching or he doesn’t care because he overpowers me, jerking my legs back so they’re angled toward him.
Despite the struggle going on underneath the table he is perfectly calm, drinking out of his glass every so often in between eating. Unlike myself who is having trouble keeping my breathing under control as I stare down at my plate while my hand tries to stop his, uselessly. He forces my thighs apart when I squeeze them shut, thick fingers dipping between my legs to stroke along the front of my panties.
My body responds to his touch despite my best efforts and to my mortification my pussy is dripping, my panties damp with my slick. My skin is in a cold sweat, my head cloudy with indecision. This is so wrong. I suck my lips between my teeth when Rafe’s fingers find my clit, rubbing until it’s a tight little nub against the thin lace. I involuntarily jerk when he pinches it between his fingers, my thighs clamping around his hand. He doesn’t even acknowledge the movement, his attention seemingly still on his food and conversation.
But I know pasta man notices without having to look and it makes me sick to my stomach. I try to take a drink of my water, my hand trembling by the time I get the glass to my lips. I barely get a drop down my throat before I need to place it back on the table or risk spilling it all over, my pussy so wet I can feel my slick on the inside of my thighs. My body is betraying me and I’ve never been more embarrassed. Casting a quick look down the table at Rafe’s father, I accidentally catch his gaze, my stomach pitting as he glares at me.
He knows.
The thought is like a gunshot in my brain, banging so loud that I shove myself out of my chair, knocking it onto the ground as I stand. I don’t realize what I’ve done until it’s too late, until everyone is silent, staring at me standing there like a lunatic, my chest heaving as I try to calm my panic. I'm too scared to look at Rafe so I look at the spot just above everyone’s head instead, shakily forcing my voice out. “Sorry. I uh—I just need to use the restroom.” I swallow, my heart beating painfully against my ribs. “Excuse me.”
Just before I turn to rush out of there I make the mistake of looking at Rafe’s face and immediately regret it. His eyes are narrowed on me, two pussy soaked fingers tapping his bottom lip as he watches me. I take a step backward, his eyes tracking me. Swallowing past the lump in my throat I spin, walking out of the room as fast as I can without actually running.
Right before I get to the door I hear his voice hit my back. “I’ll escort her.”