I didn’t tell her that Martin had gotten out of the car for a walk and saw how happy she’d looked inside the store, shopping with her friend. He’d picked it up and turned it over to me. As I said before, he got paid the big bucks for a reason.
“Well, it’s all too much. Not to mention, I haven’t really done anything to earn any of this yet.”
I grinned. She was so clueless and sweet. It was a wonder New York hadn’t eaten her alive yet.
“Don’t worry, you will.”
Her face paled, shyness filling her expression, and I chuckled.
“Go shopping. Buy yourself something that will drive me crazy. I’ll pick you up tonight at seven. Be ready and be dressed to kill.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond. I walked away. If I didn’t get away from her soon I was going to do something stupid, and push her before she was ready—like laying her on the bed and sinking myself balls deep into her tight pussy.
I had full rights to do what I pleased with her, and I knew she’d go for it because she obviously felt indebted to me. But that was not my goal. I wanted her to want me the way I wanted her. I wanted her soaking wet and begging for my cock and anything else I had to offer. To have that, I’d wait—even if it killed me.
Thirteen
Rosslyn
Once Sebastian left the room, I let myself relax. It wasn’t that he scared me, but he made me physically aware of myself and of him. The way my body responded to him was something I wasn’t accustomed to.
My nipple ached, stinging from his attention, and between my legs was soaked. Every part of me was hyper-sensitive. When I picked up my towel and rubbed it across my body, a tiny gasp escaped me.
I was alone. I’d listened carefully as the elevator opened and closed, assuring me Sebastian was gone. So I let my hands slowly drop down my body, my palms rubbing across my hard nipples and weaving sensation into my lower stomach.
It wasn’t going to be long before I was begging him for everything he had to offer, but the whole being paid thing was really messing me up. Not to mention, I hated it that he called me Jessica.
Who the hell was this Jessica, anyway?
How could I get into anything sexual with him, knowing he didn’t even want to know me? It all felt so wrong, but oh so right at the same time. It was confusing.
Not long after I dressed, Kyle stepped off the elevator. I could tell right away something was bothering him.
He tossed his bag onto the floor in the corner and went to the kitchen for the food that was there when we moved in. Teenage boys ate more than grown men.
Reaching down, I plucked his heavy bag from the floor and moved it to the table so he could start his homework once he was done with his after school snack. A white envelope fell out of the side pocket and landed at my feet.
“What’s this?” I asked, sliding my finger into the envelope and popping it open.
“It’s an invitation to an art program that’s going on this summer,” he shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.” His mouth was full of potato chips, and his voice was muffled.
My eyes scanned the letter. The art program was distinguished—as in, only thirty students in the entire state of New York were invited each year. And yet, my little brother managed to be one of them.
“Looks like a pretty big deal to me. Since when are you into art?” I asked, holding up the letter.
“Since always, I just kind of always kept it to myself. Then Mrs. Gelding, my art teacher, busted me drawing in my notebook. She’s the one who sent my work off to the program coordinators.”
I was flabbergasted. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my little brother… guess I was wrong. “Can I see your work?”
He pulled out a manila folder from his book bag and handed it over. Flipping through the art, drawings of New York City looked back at me. Lines drawn to perfection, and shadings in all the right places, formed an exact representation of the city. It was beautiful—more than beautiful.
As I flipped, I came across a picture which made my heart sink. There was Gran smiling back at me, wrinkles filling her face with happiness. It was a perfect likeness—exactly as I remembered her.
“There’s one of you, too.” Kyle mentioned at my side.
I hadn’t known he was watching me and quickly swiped at the tear forming on my bottom lashes. I ran my fingers across the next drawing. It was me, and it was like looking in the mirror. Lines were etched into my frown, and my eyes were full of sadness.
Sliding the art back into the folder, I handed it over to him.
“These are amazing, Kyle. I can’t… I don’t know what to say. You’re simply amazing. You have to go. No, you’re going.”