“How does that give you hope, wouldn’t it make you question my motives? Don’t you want to know why I don’t want Jesse? Especially after he told you about this afternoon.”
He shakes his head. “When people show me who they are, I believe them.” He leads me to the bed and my stomach knots. I kick off my shoes and tuck my legs under me as I sit on the edge. “You’ve shown me your true self more than once now, and my decision is made. Now that yours is, as well, we have business to take care of.”
“Oh,” I say, mouth popping open, and my breaths coming quicker.
Riley changes in a closet that’s hidden from view and comes out in a pair of sweatpants. Distracting sweatpants. They’re black and form fitting around the region every woman watches whether they admit it or not. They’re not the big baggy ones Jesse wears. He has a huge box balancing on one palm and he extends it to me.
“You and Jesse have one of the same superpowers,” Riley says, as I open the lid and pull out a brand-new laptop in a white box and several books and stacks of cards. I use my thumb to leaf through the pages of the largest book and I can tell by the photos what it is. It’s a textbook, something meant to help me learn to read. Looking up at Riley, tears in my eyes, I wait for him to finish his sentence. “The entire world underestimates you.” He shakes his head. “That’s the greatest power you can hold.” He leans down. “You’re mine now. You want a share in the empire, lamb, it’s yours. You told me wanted this, and I’m delivering. Lessons any time of the day you want them, teachers on standby live in that laptop. Pace yourself or move at hyper speed. Whatever you want, you only have to speak it into existence.”
“I… I… thank you for this. Thank you. I’ve never been treated this kindly before and I’m at a loss for words.”
“I can give you things, that’s nothing, please don’t negate what Jesse does for you as any less valuable.” I think of the calculating, maniacal decision he made this morning and realize it was more than meets the eye. The layers to Jesse and Riley are the same, but different. “He was the one that pushed for this. He wants the best for you. He would not accept anything but the best.”
I exhale a pent-up breath as I open the laptop and stare at the shiny metal in awe. Important people have machines like this. Riley asks if I’m thirsty and brings me a sparkling water when I ask for a drink. He hops on the bed next to me, leaning his head on one arm. I twist off the cap and pretend to be absorbed in swallowing as I watch his beautiful muscles flex and curve as he moves. “I do have a quick lesson to give you tonight, if you don’t mind me as a teacher.”
I cap the water smile. He’s back in playful form, like he was all day shopping. Licking my lips, I return a sexy smile, biting my bottom lip. “Professor Astor, I need all the help I can get with this lesson.”
He presses his lips into a firm line. “And my dick’s hard. That’s all it took.”
I laugh, clutching the bottle to my chest, eyeing his growing cock as my head hits the mattress next to his face. “Tell me about the lesson, then,” I whisper.
His thick lashes brush against his cheekbone as he blinks, and I’m mesmerized by the beauty.
“Selfishly, I want to be the one to teach you a few specific words,” Riley says, adjusting his dick that is snaking out of the top of his pants. “Don’t worry, I brushed up on teaching methods for dyslexia first so the only hard thing throughout this lesson will be my cock.” His thick neck works as he swallows.
I scoot closer to him, gaze melting into his as warmth spreads through my body. “Teach me.”
Chapter Ten
Drew
“Cherish,” Riley says again, holding up one of the cards he’s made himself. On the back, the words are broken down into syllables. It’s easier to see the letters when they aren’t all jumbled together, and the fact this is the word he started with makes it so I’ll never forget how it looks or the sounds that form it. Riley Astor is good at many things, but drawing isn’t one of them. He told me that they use a lot of imagery with words to help people with dyslexia learn to read. He drew a picture of two blobs hugging next to the word cherish. He explained to me what a consonant diagraph was. He is taking this very seriously if you ignore the artwork.
“Now when I see that word, I’ll always think of this picture,” I say, after he’s explained the tactic.
He chuckles. “If I thought this through, I would have hired a professional to draw exquisite images so beauty would live next to the word,” Riley says, but I cut him off.
Shaking my head, I say, “I wouldn’t want to think of anything else except your version of the word. This is perfect.” The thought is perfect. This moment is perfect. Even though I can’t read and it’s my biggest insecurity, he’s making me feel like a queen. Blocking all things that deal with the women who came before me, I live in only this moment.
Riley’s face reddens. “I was thinking that along with imagery, we could attach action to the letters and sounds.” The way his lips move give me the impression he’s embarrassed about something. He’s went through all this trouble, what could give him pause? “This word is k-i-s-s.” There, again, are the blobs, but they’re kissing, straggly arms wrapping around each other. He breaks down the sounds on the other side of the card, and after glancing at the letters, I watch his face. His gaze is searing as he crawls over to me, thick biceps bulging as he places his arms on each side of my body. His presence alone forces me onto my back, staring up into his face with wonder.
Licking his lips, he says the word again, and spells it, “K-i-s-s,” before leaning down and pressing his mouth against mine. It’s soft at first, as if he’s seeking permission, which is silly because a man as powerful as Riley Astor takes what he wants and doesn’t ask questions. There it is, though, a gentleness I never expected. He parts my lips with his tongue, and I close my eyes against the onslaught of emotions coursing through me.
I’ve been kissed, of course, but for me kissing was always a precursor to the main event—an obligation one must perform as a warm-up. No one has kissed me before as if they were taking pleasure from the act. I haven’t been kissed like I’m the only human in the world, or like I’m fragile and significant. Riley’s kiss is artistry. He tastes like mint, and his lips, like his entire being, are warm. My stomach dances, and I swear I’m actually floating. The tenderness when he lays down next to me while still keeping a hand on my face is almost crippling. How do I reciprocate when I have no idea what I’m doing? I pull away from his mouth and open my eyes. Riley doesn’t make a move, he stares, the depth of his gaze piercing right through me.
“I wasn’t finished yet,” he says, a lazy grin playing on his lips. There’s no tenderness in that sentence. He takes off my clothes slowly, methodically teasing, until I’m completely nude. “Your skin is perfect,” he says, and I don’t know what he means because when I see myself, I see all the scars from the abuse I suffered throughout my life. “Not a single tattoo. It’s virgin perfect.” Ah, that makes sense. Most of the gang bangers are covered with them, like Jesse.
“I never wanted something enough to see it forever,” I say. “The scars are reminders enough.”
He brushes a thumb over the small scar on my abdomen.
“You’re beautiful, Drew. There’s nothing less than perfect about you.”
“You don’t have to say that,” I whisper. “I know what I am and what I’m not.”
Riley trails his hands over my stomach and up to cup my breast. “Erase what you know. Erase it all. I’ll tell you what you are, and I’ll say it until you know I’m the one telling the truth, not your past.” Goosebumps rise everywhere he touches, serotonin twisting my thoughts into manic euphoria. “You are perfect.” His hand dips between my legs. He’s stroking the soft skin inside my thighs with a feather light touch. It almost tickles, but not at the same time. The man lavishing attention on me is strong and powerful. Nothing about him could ever illicit a tickle from me. He’s strength, wealth, and this humbling voracious ally for me. “Look,” Riley growls.
Tilting my chin down, I meet his eyes. “Watch,” he orders. I nod.