Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
STEPHANIE
The burgers from The Meat Market lie heavy in my stomach. Not because they aren’t good. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had a burger taste that good before. No. The quality isn’t the problem. The company is.
In the town car, I glance over at Mr. Rothsbourne, noting the concentration on his face as he scrolls through his phone. It’s as if this afternoon never happened. How am I still about to vibrate out of my skin from that deliciously awful spanking, yet he’s over there cool as a cucumber?
I clutch my stomach, willing the nausea to calm down. But it doesn’t. If anything, the closer we get to the house, the worse it gets. My fingers twitch as I do my best to keep from chewing my nonexistent nails.
“Talk to me, Steph. I can feel your anxiety from here.”
Guilt slams into me as I lower my head. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be a bother.”
He jerks his head up from his phone and frowns at me. “Have I, at any point, said you were a bother?”
“Well, no. But I know how annoying this can be.”
“Your world is turning upside down. I think you’re entitled to some anxiety. But even if everything was fine, you’d still be entitled to your anxiety. I just want to help, if I can.”
Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“That doesn’t answer my question, but I suppose I’ll indulge.” With a sigh, he puts his phone in his pocket. “I feel… well… I guess you could say a kinship to you. You’ve been a member of our family for years. Even if it is as Brody’s girlfriend. Something about you compels me to assist. I just wish you weren’t so stubborn about it.”
Again, that niggle of guilt threatens to cut me to the core. “It’s not personal. I promise.”
“Then what is it?”
“I…” for a moment, I trail off, unsure of how to answer him. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m a smart man. Try me.”
“It’s terrifying. Okay? Is that what you want me to say? I’ve only had myself since my parents died. I don’t want to be beholden to you or anyone else. I don’t want to be at your mercy.” Is it my imagination, or does his lips twitch up into a ghost of a smile? “I don’t have the type of money to ever be able to pay you back. Any kindness you show me becomes a debt in my mind. One I’ll never be able to repay.”
He brushes his thumb across his bottom lip. “And who says I’m asking for repayment? I certainly haven’t.”
My eyes bulge out of my sockets as I stare at the man. “You can’t be serious. You’re a fucking Rothsbourne. You don’t just hand out money. Not if you can help it.”
“True. I do like to hold on to my wealth. But you never even gave me a chance to negotiate with you. That was your misfortune. Because now you sit here, desperate for my help. That gives me the upper hand. Whereas if you accepted my help when I offered it, we might have been on a more equal footing. Because of your stubbornness, you have indeed put yourself in the position you were most scared of being in… at my mercy.”
Gulping, I glance down at the floorboard. But that’s also a mistake. All it does is remind me of being over his lap while his hand smacked my bare ass. Even now, arousal trickles across my lower lips, making me squirm. I cross my legs, desperate to ease the ache between my thighs, but all that pressure does is make me even more desperate.
“I’ve already said I need your help. What I need now is to know exactly what that entails. What does being at your mercy really mean?”
“Well, for starters, it means having a detailed conversation about what exactly help means. Once I know the depth of your situation, we can work out how to manage it. You might as well spill it now. Either here or in my office. Your choice.”
“I’m being evicted.”
Honestly, out of all the situations surrounding me right now, this is the most pressing. It’s not like I have a job I need to drive to, so having a car out of commission is lower on the list than having a place to live.
“I see. And what exactly do you want from me? Are you asking me to cancel the eviction? To find you a new place? What?”
I blink away the tears as I tug at my pants. Since I can’t chew my nails anymore, I suppose I have to stop the whirling of my mind by fixating on all the little strands I can feel poking up from the fabric. Besides, it’s not like these are my best clothes. They can stand being picked at a little.
The first strand I come across feels like an itch under my skin. I pluck at it, rolling my finger around the odd one out until I have enough to pull. There’s that lovely resistance, that tug as I try to force it from my pants.
I can’t explain what it does to me. I have no words for how it soothes my mind and soul to have something else to fixate on other than my problems. But I’ll still need to answer him. It doesn’t matter how much string I pull from my pants, he will still demand an answer.
“I asked Brody if I could stay in the guest house, especially since he’s gone so much. But he didn’t think it would be a good idea. You know, we’ve got a good thing happening. Why ruin it?”
“Why indeed,” he rasps, a thread of anger making his tone a bit strident and harsh.
“Besides,” I amend quickly, not wanting to add to his aggression. “Right now, I’m not technically evicted. I have to pay her by this afternoon, or she’ll start the process.”
“So it’s money you need?” The deep growl to his voice ripples along my skin, scattering my thoughts for a moment.
“Money would be nice… But I don’t want to live there anymore. For some reason, she thinks I’m doing drugs.”
“I see.” I glance up at his face, looking for any trace of condemnation, but find none. “And are you?”
There it is. He thinks I am too. “No!” I cry out, frustration coloring my tone. “Why does everyone think I’m doing drugs?”
“Well, I’m not privy to your normal day to day, but to get fired with prejudice doesn’t happen very often. Want to tell me about that? And the truth this time. I have ways of finding out everything I need or want to know.”
“I know you do,” I snap out, disdain dripping from my lips just as hard as tears slip from my eyes. “I know you have enough money in the world to do whatever the fuck you want. Yet, here I am, begging from you, like a poor little orphan child with nowhere to go.”
“Deflection will not help you. Why were you fired?”
“I don’t even know!” I wail.
Gripping my hands into fists, I try to breathe nice and slow, just like the therapist at the hospital taught me to do. Breathe in for a count of four. Hold it for four. Breathe out for four. Hold it for four. Again and again, I breathe the best I can, but my anxiety seems to be too much.
The razors beckon me, scream out for me to use them, and silence the world. Even if just long enough for my brain to reset and quiet down. But that line of thinking is dangerous. I need to find another way to calm down.
Before I can switch it up and try something new, Mr. Rothsbourne’s hands grab my shoulders as he hauls me onto his lap. Again, he purrs, allowing the sound to rumble through my body until I sink down onto him, completely limp. In that space and time, nothing matters.
His intoxicating scent fills my nose. That luscious cologne he wears weaves around me, transfixing me to the spot. Just underneath is that hint of spice. I can’t really smell it over the stuff he sprays on, and for a moment, I fixate on finding it, on separating the two until I know his unique smell.
But it’s no use. The only way to smell him, to really smell him, is to unbutton that top button of his shirt and bury my nose against his skin. Unless I want to look like an insane person, I need to stay put and keep my mind from making me do things I can’t take back.
“I don’t even know,” I finally grumble again. “I’m telling you the truth. HR just fired me. No one would tell me why. The head of the company wanted me fired. At first, I thought it was a clerical error. Apparently not.”
“Did you reveal to HR the nature of your anxiety?”
I look up at him and blink. “No. Never. It’s not an issue until I’m just too stressed to see straight. As far as I know, my work has never suffered. No one ever complained to me about my performance. I guess I did something wrong, but I don’t know what.”
He peers down at me, his eyes narrowing as he looks deep into my soul. “I believe you. But until we can get to the bottom of what happened, you’ll be hard pressed to find work.”
Slumping down against him, I tug at my pants again. “I know. Trust me. I know. I’ve spent the last few days looking, but no one will hire me. I was hoping you would.”
“Me?” he chuckles. The incredulous sound bounces around the cabin, making me wince. “What would I hire you for? What position could you take? I’ve already told you I don’t have an opening.”
Desperation causes my heart to pound against my ribs. “Anything? Please, M- Daddy. I’ll do anything.”
Again, his eyes darken, sending shivers of need and fear down my spine. “Never promise anything. Anything is very dangerous. Anything will get you into trouble.”
“But I’m desperate.”
“I know that, sweet girl. I can practically smell it dripping off of you. Now that I know what’s going on with you, I’m able to conduct our discussion a bit better.”
Wincing, I try to slide off of his lap. Serious discussions shouldn’t happen like this. I’m far too much at a disadvantage. I feel more like an errant schoolgirl than a woman who had her life together as of just a few days ago. When I move, however, he just holds on tighter.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To negotiate?”
“I won’t let you have another panic attack in this car. You’re staying on my lap until we’re done. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Si-, Daddy,” I reply, misery infusing my words.
“Besides, what we’re going to have now is a discussion. Time for negotiation is far past. You are going to live with me.”
“But Brody-”
“Fuck Brody,” he snarls, making me jump in his arms. “Fuck,” he says again, this time a bit softer as he wraps me in his embrace. “I’m not mad at you, sweet girl. I’m furious at Brody’s lack of care and compassion.”
“Oh, it’s not his fault!” For some reason, I feel the need to defend him, but I can’t for the life of me explain why. “He’s a very busy man, and my troubles will only get in his way.”
“And I’m not busy?”
“Well, you are but-”
“But?”
“It’s different.”
“How so?”
Helpless, I shrug. “I don’t know, because you’re a man, and he’s still a… a…”
“A man child. You can say it. God knows I say worse every day.”
“Look, he’s right, though. Things are easy between us. Right now, he’s all I got. I don’t want to upset the balance.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing you’re not living with Brody then. Isn’t it?”
My brows furrow as I look at the man. “I don’t understand. I’ve been to your house many times and have never seen a second guest house.”
“I don’t have one. You’re staying in my house. I have a wing that hasn’t been used since his mother left me. I figure it’s high time someone fills that space.”
“Oh, but I don’t want to impose…”
“If I’m offering, it’s not an imposition.”
“I guess.”
“I know.” The tone in his voice brooks no argument.
What the hell am I going to do? He’s so implacable, so fierce, and so fucking commanding. It should make me angry. In all honesty, it only makes me want to curl up on his lap and obey.