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"That you didn't ask for my life story?" I laugh softly. "So you didn't  predict that this would happen. Besides, that's what first dates are  for, right?"

Her fingers slide between us, down my stomach. I catch her hand because  if she goes any lower my body is going to realize that the night is  barely half over.

"So, when?" I ask.

"I have an interview on Thursday. I need tomorrow to prepare."

"Friday it is," I say. "Any food you hate?"

She shakes her head. "No, but I am partial to Italian."

"I'll let you know where." I have the perfect place in mind, but maybe I  can think of something else special before everything is set in stone.

"Okay."

We breathe in silence again, and I feel Vera's body relax further. Her  eyes are closed, her lips parted. If she's not asleep then she's almost  there. It's time for me to go, so I slowly untangle myself from her  body, and cover her with as much of the blanket as I can without  disturbing her. I find my clothes and put them on.

Shit. How am I going to get out of here? If Vera's that concerned about  her family then walking out the front door isn't the best idea I've had.  I lean over her and press a kiss to her lips. It works, her body  stirring under me. "I need to go, Vera."

Her voice is heavy with sleep. "Why?"

"Because," I say, laughing. "I need a shower, and I need to put my clothes on so I can come back. But how can I leave?"

She points to the window.

"Alarm?" I ask.

"I'm an architect's daughter-disconnected that years ago." She closes  her eyes again and snuggles down in her pillow. "But I can't believe  you're sneaking out the window."

I kiss her one last time. "Yeah, I'm a big cliché."

It's not a lie, the poor guy falling for the rich girl. And I can't say  that I'm not nervous. This could all go very wrong very quickly.

The rational part of me tells me that I should shut up and enjoy the  amazing sex as long as I can, damn the consequences. But for some reason  this feels bigger than that. I don't want to limit it to just sex,  because I like what I see beyond that. And it's something that hasn't  happened in a long time.

Using the tree outside her window, I manage to get out of the house. I  do feel like a teenager and a total cliché, but it's worth it.

I hope it will be worth it.

I slip off into the dark and head for home.





10





Vera





I wake up to an unexpected breeze on my face. My window is open from  when James left through it last night. Just the thought makes me laugh  stupidly. I have an interview tomorrow, and … I also have a date. I smile  into my pillow, embarrassed by how happy both of those things make me  feel. Especially the second one as it seeps through my skin like the  sunshine and settles in my stomach.

I have today to prepare my portfolio for my interview with The Harrison  Foundation. It's in good shape, but I want it to be perfect. I would  love to finish up the design for the ELIH house to show them. But first,  my stomach is growling.

Grabbing breakfast is easy, and I catch myself looking for James out the  patio doors more than once. But I don't see him. He's spent the last  two days close to the house so he's probably working on the farther  edges of our property.

That's okay, I rationalize it to myself. I'm more disappointed than I ought to be, but …          

     



 

It's a beautiful day. No reason I can't work on my design on the  balcony. I practically sprint back to my room and grab my smaller,  portable drafting table and set it up on the balcony outside our  upstairs sitting room. It's the same balcony my mother was sitting on  when James and I came so close to being discovered. I glance down at  that window and I feel myself flush.

I make another trip back to my room and grab the design and my supplies.  This is a great idea. The temperature is perfect, and I avoid the  inevitable distraction of going to my window every few minutes trying to  catch a glimpse of James. After setting up, I work on the design for a  while, smoothing and perfecting it. I include some of what James pointed  out yesterday. It's in pretty good shape now, but I probably have  another couple hours of tinkering before I'm totally finished.

The door behind me opens and my mother comes out on the balcony. "May I join you?"

"Sure."

She has one of her books with her, and a pen. My mother loves to  annotate her books. She's constantly reading anything she can get her  hands on. I honestly think reading might be the great love of her life.

"You've been working out here a while. For anything in particular?"

I glance at her sideways to gauge her reaction. "I have an interview  tomorrow at The Harrison Foundation. I'd like this to be finished for  them."

"That's good news." She's smiling.

"Do you really think that?"

She sighs. "Vera, I want you to be happy, and I want you to do what you  want to do. But I also don't think those things are impossible working  for your father. After a while, once you have more experience, I'm sure  you'll be able to do whatever you want. Wherever you want. He's just  worried for you."

"But that's just it," I say. "He's forcing me into this now-what makes  you think he'll let me go my own way later? He wants me to run the  company."

"Is that the worst thing in the world?"

I think it over for a moment. "I suppose not. But if he saw what I wanted to do with it, he might not feel that way."

Mom tilts her head, a questioning look on her face. "Why?"

"Because," I laugh, "If I ran the company it would be completely  different. I would take its resources and invest in other companies. I  would focus on building houses for people who can't-" I break off,  knowing that this won't help anything. "I've already given you this  speech, Mom. You know what I want."

She gives me a smile. "You're still young, dear. I'm sure everything will work out."

"Yeah," I say, stifling a sigh just as I spot a flash of that horrifying blue polo coming towards the house.

James is wearing gloves and carrying giant shears-so he was working on  trimming the privacy hedge. No wonder I couldn't see him earlier. The  privacy hedge is huge. He glances up at me, and I give him a quick smile  before ducking my head back down to my design. I can't do anything. Not  with my mother right here.

He disappears into the garden shed, and I draw a few lines before I  faintly hear the door open again. Glancing over at my mother, I see that  she is engrossed in her book, making a note in the margin. I straighten  up, disguising my look as a stretch. James comes around the corner and  stops where I can see him. Slowly, seductively, he lifts up his shirt so  I can see his abs. His other hand runs across his torso and down,  rubbing himself through his jeans.

My mouth goes dry with a combination of panic and lust. Then he turns  and it was like he never even stopped. He's heading back out beyond my  view and I'm left with my paper and an overactive imagination. I focus  my eyes on my drafting table again, ignoring the warm feeling in my  pussy. I take a few deep breaths before I set my pencil to paper again.  I'm trying to exhale the excess energy that I suddenly seem to be  feeling.

Luckily my mother is still engrossed in her book and hasn't noticed the  air shift around us. I take my eraser and begin the process of cleaning  my lines. I'm a total stickler for clean drafts and I want this to  impress. It's slow going and I have to shake out my hand every few  minutes because it gets so tense. I'm not even a third of the way done  when I see him again.

He pushes the wheelbarrow out toward the house, filled with various  landscaping supplies. I can feel his eyes on me from the moment we can  see each other. I will not return his look. I will not stare.

Fuck. I looked. Why is this so hard?

I barely resist the urge to bang my head on the table in frustration. He  goes into the shed, and I don't think I breathe the entire time he  stays in there. What if he does what he did last time? What if my mother  sees?         

     



 

When he comes out of the shed he doesn't look at me, instead crossing  the yard. He stops well within view of me, but now my mom would have to  turn in her chair to see him. Then he turns and I see why. Every ounce  of breath in my body disappears. His jeans are open and his cock is in  his hand. I can see even from here that he's hard. When I look up I  realize that he is also watching me as he slowly strokes himself. My  pussy clenches in response, and I try to swallow but find that I can't.  This is insane.

"I'm going to get a drink," I say as casually as I can. "Do you want anything?"

"No, thank you," Mom says, barely looking up from her book.

James is leaning against a tree, eyes closed in pleasure as he touches  himself. God, I'm going to kill him. And later, I'm going to fuck him.

Once inside I get downstairs as quickly as possible. I tiptoe outside,  trying to keep the patio door silent. I sprint to where James is  standing and yank him back toward the house. All the way, until we're  pressed up against the wall where my mother won't be able to see us. She  could still hear us though.