My thoughts drifted to the black door in the art studio. Storage, he’d said. But if that’s all it was, why was he so adamant about keeping me out of there?
“Maybe he’s a eunuch.”
“No, he definitely—ah, he definitely has a dick.” I coughed, thinking about the way his cock had thrust against the back of my throat.
“AHHH!” Andy was screaming into the phone. “I want to know all about it! Is he big? Does he have a gay friend? Lacey? Lacey—”
“Sorry about that,” Steph said, having evidently wrenched the phone back from her brother. “You are going to give me the full lowdown when you get back. Got it?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn’t know how girls talked about sex like this with each other. Thinking about all of the things Jake had done to me made me squirm with anticipation. I didn’t want to hold anything back from my best friend, but I wasn’t about to give her a play by play recap of everything Jake had done to me.
“Sure thing, Steph,” I said. “Um, and just to let you know, so you don’t send any more police officers after me, I’m going to be here for a while.”
“What?”
“Like, another week. He asked me to—”
I was cut off by Steph’s squeal, so loud that I think it might have broken the rotary phone speaker.
“Steph? Hello?”
“You have a sexy billionaire dude in love with you and you didn’t tell me?”
“He’s not in love with me. He just—”
“He wants you to stay in his place for a whole week? Are you freaking kidding me? Andy, are you hearing this?”
“Steph, look, I’ve got to go.”
“You have to go get fucked by your gorgeous billionaire’s huge cock, right, right. Gotcha. I expect a full report.”
“Sure,” I said, because it was easier than saying no. I told Steph to let everyone at my work know that I was sick for the week, both because I really didn’t want to have those conversations with my bosses, and also because, well, I didn’t remember their phone numbers and I couldn’t very well look anything up on a rotary phone.
When I hung up on her, I lay back against the soft cushions and looked around my bedroom.
My bedroom.
I wondered if Jake really wanted me the way Steph thought he might. In love? No, definitely not. He hadn’t even kissed me on the mouth. If he wanted me, he only wanted me for sex. And yet, he hadn’t taken my virginity yet. He hadn’t told me any of the secrets about his family that apparently everybody but me knew about.
I would have to ask him. When the time was right. I would ask him, and I would see what Jake Carville really wanted with me.
***
I took another bath. The darned tub didn’t even have a showerhead.
“Darn billionaires. Forcing me to bathe in leisure,” I mumbled. I turned on the faucets and began to fill the tub.
I was only wearing a sheet, so I dropped it to the ground and stared at the wall-sized mirror in front of me. I frowned.
I didn’t know what Jake Carville saw in me. He was a drop-dead gorgeous, wealthy as sin, completely in control individual. And me…
I was all curves and frizzed out hair. I tried to straighten down my bedhead, but to no avail.
Stop thinking about it.
I dropped my gaze from the mirror. It reminded me of the mirror in the room Jake had tied me up in. What a strange place, in the middle of this luxurious penthouse. It was so different from all of the other rooms in here. My bedroom was decorated in the same old-money style as the rest of the penthouse, but secretly I preferred the concrete walls painted with art.
That room is for sex.
But it wasn’t. Or at least, it wasn’t for sex with me. Maybe Jake was having sex with all of his other supermodels in there, but he wasn’t having it with me. Was it that stupid idea of purity, of innocence? I hated that he only thought of me that way. I wasn’t some stupid little naive girl. And just because I was still a virgin didn’t mean I was devoid of sexual urges.
Oof. I stepped into the water and immediately thought of Jake’s hands caressing me. Immediately my body burned hotter than the steaming water that I was sinking into.
God, his hands. His strong hands, sliding between my thighs—
Without thinking about it, my own hand drifted down to where he had touched me before. He hadn’t let me come to orgasm then, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t now. And the idea of masturbating alone, without Jake there to witness, was more than tempting.
I began to slide my fingers over myself casually, as though I wasn’t doing anything at all. I closed my eyes, expecting to see Jake. But instead—
The painting.