Chapter 13
1479 Words
"Almost forty grand, and that was called mercy," I scoffed with sarcastic delight, struggling to hold all the shopping bags in my hands. I shuffled my way toward the hotel veranda and headed straight to my suite.
Johnny loves spending money—and I thank him for giving me a decent place to stay. Though honestly, I'd accept anything, as long as I don’t have to share it with him.
"Thank you for the blessing, Mr. Johnny Miles."
I ended my night with a long, happy sigh.
It’s not every day I get to buy whatever I want. I didn’t even have to touch the allowance Tamara gave me, and all my wants? Solved.
After stripping off all my clothes, I hopped in the shower, then slipped into a robe. I was about to begin my nightly ritual when my phone buzzed.
Of course. Johnny.
That man just doesn’t know how to make a call.
"Why would he?" I muttered, smirking. "If he’s trying to give Mrs. Walker crutches." I snorted as I flopped down on the edge of the bed. "She won’t be a ‘walker’ by tomorrow." I let out a sharp sigh.
I opened his message and frowned. I had to read it twice to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
"What’s he doing at the pool area?" I mumbled, pushing myself up and heading toward the balcony.
I stretched my neck and peeped out. Sure enough, there he was—alone on a lounge chair, drink in hand, eyes on his phone… wearing sunglasses. At night.
"He’s really out of his mind," I muttered. I was about to ignore him when another message came in.
"What now?"
"I saw you. Don’t ignore me. You know what I hate. Come on down. I just want to talk," I read his message out loud.
He hates waiting. Well, he better eat that up, because I’m taking my sweet-ass time.
I blow-dried my hair, clipped it up, and changed into my pajamas—a long-sleeved top and banana-print bottoms. To finish the look: flip-flops, my oversized glasses, and the complimentary towel draped around my shoulders like a shawl.
Down to the pool I went.
"Did you go through a maze just to get here?" Johnny greeted me.
"Had to face a minotaur as well," I replied, settling on the lounge chair ten feet away from him. "What happened? Did your Helen of Boston get snatched by her Menelaus?" I asked, referring to his supposed date for the night.
"No," he said simply, propping his arm behind his head like a damn GQ model. "Had a change of heart."
"Strange," I commented, and that made him glance at me.
"I know." He casually tugged his board shorts lower, hips shifting as he found a more comfortable position.
For some reason, I had to swallow hard and look away.
"I was thinking about what you said," he added, surprising me. So he 'did' listen? "Thought after thought, I realized it’s not worth the try."
"Told you." I lifted my chin and pulled the towel closer. "Whatever she said was too good to be true. And as someone employed by your company, I should worry about the money. Imagine—if your business goes belly-up, where am I going to go?"
"What?" he asked, pulling his sunglasses off. His eyes locked onto mine like they could read my browser history.
"Huh?" I blinked. "We’re talking about business, right?"
Johnny suddenly chuckled and sat up, his man-spread facing me like a threat.
Thank God I sat far away. If I were closer, I might grab his balls... accidentally on purpose.
"You asked me if I was serious about bedding the old lady, and I ignored your judgment. So here I am, telling you I should value my d**k more and stick to younger p***y," he clarified, as casually as if we were discussing the weather.
I just stared at him, mouth gaping.
"Did I mention I hate her perfume? She smells like white candles and IcyHot," he added with a wince, leaning back and flashing his sculpted torso like it was part of the conversation. "I’m saving my night for someone explosive."
"Here I thought you called me for a serious talk," I muttered, struggling not to drool.
"This 'is' serious, Cassy babe. You know it." He ran a hand down his abs like I 'wasn't' already losing focus. "If you’re worried about the contract, we’ll talk tomorrow morning."
"Why not now?"
"Because right now, I need your help." He moved to the lounge in front of me, closing the distance and taking my hand. "Out of all the women in the world, you're the only one I can count on. Right, Cassy babe?"
That was... oddly sweet.
"And I need a favor."
I opened my mouth to sass him, but he placed a finger on my lips.
"I’ll pay you."
That was what I just need to hear.
I turned my face away, snatched my hand back, and swatted his finger off. "You know I’m greedy like you."
"Uh-huh. Mine’s for women, yours is for money. Same thing, different font. You go wild when it comes to capitalism," he grinned, slapping me with the truth.
I kept a deadpan face. "What’s the favor?"
He bit his lower lip, clearly excited.
"I met someone," he started.
"You 'always' meet someone. And they always end up in your bed," I said, shifting away from his knee-spread zone. "I know where this conversation is going."
"This one’s different." He scooted beside me, closing the space between our shoulders.
Every hair on my body stood at attention.
"I didn’t get her name. Didn’t even see her face," he said, and I froze. "But she got me so fucking... ugh!" He clawed the air dramatically.
"What happened? She put a bag on your head?" I asked. Give me my Oscar.
"It was the masquerade. She wore a mask. We all did."
"Maybe she’s a criminal? Or, you know... ugly?"
"No. She had this... appeal. From her lips to the way she talked. Her voice still echoes in my head like damn," he sighed, eyes closed like he was reliving it.
So… he thinks I’m hot?
I looked away to hide my smirk and bit my lip.
"Because of her, I’m having a crisis," he groaned. "I tried to f**k the receptionist earlier and I couldn’t get a f*****g hard-on."
Okay. That was more than I needed to know.
"I’m looking for something." He gestured vaguely in the air. "That f*****g woman has me whipped. You get me?"
Oh, Johnny... If only you knew you're talking about 'me'.
My heart raced. The plan worked. He’s craving me. He’s searching for 'me'. He wants me.
Tamara’s gonna love this buzz.
I shrugged. "I don’t know what to say."
He let out a breath. "Ever since that night, it’s been just me, my hand, and porn. Cleavage and tight butts used to do it. Now? Nothing."
"Can you 'not' share your kink playlist with me, sir? I’m clearly not interested." I covered my ears and glared. "Just get to the point."
"Help me find her."
I raised a brow. "And how exactly? You don’t even know her name or face."
"She’s got an angel tattoo on her back. Her 'entire' back. Sexy as hell," he said, placing a hand on my thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My back arched from the touch.
"Perfect body. Smelled like peaches. Tasted like peaches. Brown eyes. Addictive," he rambled. "And she took my shirt," he added, grinning like an i***t.
"Congratulations," I deadpanned, peeling his hand off and placing it back where it belonged. "In that case, I can’t help you. Good luck."
I stood up, ready to leave and daydream about everything he just said before bed.
But he blocked my way, standing close.
"You have brown eyes, right, Cassy babe?" he asked, eyes fixed on my lips.
I puckered them in the least attractive way. "Eighty percent of the world does. And if she’s so crazy about you, she’ll show up like a mushroom after rain."
He hummed, clearly not buying it, still staring at my mouth. "Peaches..."
"Excuse me, sir. I need to go exfoliate, bleach my soul, and purge whatever viruses you’ve transferred to me."
I tried to move, but the jerk didn’t budge. He leaned in close and sniffed me.
Shit. Should’ve changed perfume.
"Where’s my card, Cassy babe?"
Huh? All that just to ask about his card?
"At the bedside. Don’t worry, I’ll give it back to you first thing in the morning," I assured him.
He stepped aside. That's relief for me.
"I’ll need it now. I’ll escort you to your room," he said, offering his hand.
I stared at it. I knew it was trouble.
But I took it anyway.
- Writer
