Chapter 8
EIGHT
Tripp
I feel exultant.
Sexually charged.
On edge. Focused.
I feel like a fucking idiot.
I’m drawing a girl a picture like I’m in elementary school. Who the hell am I?
When I woke up this morning, alone in my room, my first thought was that this cannot continue.
I need to wake up with Vida beside me in bed from now on.
And because I was raised a billionaire, my second thought was…
gifts. I need to give her gifts the likes of which she’s never seen. Diamonds. A Rolls-Royce. An island.
All of it.
Everything.
Then I remembered who she is. She rejected my offer to eat in a nice restaurant. I don’t have a hope in hell she’s going to accept diamonds. For the first time in my life, I’m at a disadvantage.
Money has always been the answer to every problem I ever had. But money is useless with Vida. And that might be one of the many things I admire about her, but it makes me nervous as shit, because what else do I have to give?
Thinking fast, I had colored pencils and an artist’s pad delivered to the room this morning after breakfast, and I’m drawing her the Milky Way.
I didn’t even know what this galaxy looked like, but I’ve found a diagram online to work from.
It’s not going to win any awards, that’s for sure.
I can’t show up empty-handed the next time I see her, though.
What she gave me last night…
Lord.
It transcends anything of monetary value.
She trusted me. She allowed me to feel free of shame.
I can’t remember the last time I didn’t feel like a sick fuck deep down.
And Vida didn’t merely endure my fantasy—she had an orgasm, too.
She loved it, too.
My cock stirs beneath the desk, demanding I stroke it for the third time this morning, but I ignore the Vida-inspired lust and keep drawing.
We didn’t make any plans when I dropped her off at home last night, but I’m determined to set our next date.
She told me she works until dinnertime tonight, and I need to see her after that.
I think I’ll go out of my mind if I can’t.
A reminder dings on my phone, and I snatch it up.
Yacht party 9pm.
“Dammit,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “I forgot.”
I invited all my friends out on my yacht tonight.
Can I cancel? Or should I invite Vida to the party?
My stomach churns with discomfort at the very notion.
Not because I’m not proud of her. Not because I don’t want her there.
But because I know my friends will eat her alive.
They can’t help themselves. Their overindulged prick genes run deep.
Even members of the same social class sometimes aren’t good enough for them.
Vida will be a whole new entity. A member of the help—that’s how they’re going to see her. Not as a peer.
It could be a disaster.
But if I want to be with Vida—and as far as I’m concerned, that’s a done deal and she’s mine—then I’ll have to introduce her to my world sooner or later.
I’ll speak to my friends in advance and make sure they know there will be consequences if she feels slighted.
I won’t have her feelings hurt. Actually, the idea of her upset fills me with a kind of empty despair that permeates all my organs.
She’s already so special to me, I don’t know what to do with myself.
Color, I guess.
I work on my wannabe masterpiece for another hour before carefully rolling it up and securing it with a rubber band.
Then I dress for the gym in black sweatpants and no shirt, slinging my headphones around my neck.
Phone tucked into my pocket, I leave the room with my Milky Way illustration in my hand.
And shit, I’m nervous.
I’m actually nervous about giving something to a girl. Have I ever been anything but calm and controlled around the opposite sex before? Nope. Can’t remember a single time.
Just with Vida.
God, I’m obsessed with her.
If I don’t taste her mouth in the next hour, I swear my heart is going to stop beating.
I take the elevator down to the gym, praying I’ll run into her there.
I should get a copy of her schedule. I could easily do it with one phone call.
I could do a lot of shit with one phone call, like get her a promotion to a cushy office position.
Transfer a few million into her bank account.
Free her from an endless cycle of work in a place where she said she feels powerless. I could hand her the power.
How long will I be able to hold myself back from doing that?
I round the corner into the gym, and I don’t see Vida. Backtracking, I stride into the pool area—
And I see something that turns my blood to ice.
Vida is walking past an older man with a stack of towels in her arms. He’s maybe in his early forties. As she passes, he reaches out and grabs the hem of her uniform skirt, yanking her to a halt. “How about that swimming lesson today, baby? A private one, just for me.”
Anger almost blacks me out.
Invisible hands throttle the breath from my throat.
She attempts to get away, but he hauls her back, causing her to stumble.
“Hey,” I bark, striding forward, my voice echoing in the enclosed pool. “Get your fucking hands off her. Immediately.”
Vida sobs through a breath. Her relief to see me is stark. “Tripp.”
“I’m here.”
I hold out my arms open, and she comes running to me, tucking herself against my side and burying her face in my neck, whispering, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“None of this is okay.” I point a finger at the man, wondering how I haven’t burst into flames by now, my ire burns so hot. “You don’t put your hands on her. Or anyone else who works here. What is your name, motherfucker, so I can have you barred from this resort for life?”
He looks nervous to have been caught harassing a girl half his age, but you would never know it from his belligerent snort.
“You think you have the power to do that? Who do you think you are?”
“Tripp Sterling. Who the fuck are you?”
Every ounce of color drains from his face. “Sterling?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
He stumbles to his feet, backing away with his palms up. “I…I thought she was just a maid. I didn’t realize she was yours.”
Vida, appropriately, makes a sound of disgust.
Just a maid? Yours?
Yes, she is explicitly mine.
I don’t make her feel like property, though, do I? Not like this entitled asshole.
In the last twenty-four hours, I realized a lot about my life and how easy money has made things for me. But that truth has never been more obvious than it is right now.
“Go get your shit and check out of the resort now. Don’t ever come back here.”
“Whatever you want. Whatever you say.”
I wrap both my arms around Vida and watch the man scurry out of the pool area, past more than a few men who just sat there and did nothing while Vida was being harassed. I’m going to find out their names, too, and ruin their fucking lives, top to bottom. Swear to God.
In fact, I’m going to do more.
Something impactful.
This can’t happen again. Not to Vida or the other women she works with.
Not on my watch.
“Come with me,” I say, keeping her tucked into my side.
There’s a small alcove in the corner of the pool enclosure, and I guide her in that direction, walking until we’re out of sight from the rest of the guests.
I set down the rolled-up illustration on a counter and lift Vida into my arms without delay because I think I need to hold her as badly as she requires holding.
Her legs slip around my waist, her face tucking into my neck, as natural as breathing.
My arms cradle her tightly to my chest, and I rock her side to side.
Kiss her hair.
“I’m sorry, angel,” I murmur against her ear, my heart flipping over when she nuzzles closer.
Quit this job, I want to say. Quit. I’ll make sure you never have to work again.
It’s a struggle not to make these demands out loud, but I bite my tongue.
She’d never go for it. “I’m sorry that happened to you.
I’m going to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. ”
She lifts her head and looks at me, attempting a smile. “How are you going to do that?”
God, she is the most beautiful thing in the universe. A product of heaven, hiding in plain sight right here in Massachusetts. “I have some ideas.”
Vida hums, her eyes traveling between my features. “You were very heroic.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Her expression warms, thoughtful and appreciative. “I didn’t know white knights came shirtless in headphones.”
“Well, we do. Now you know.” I continue to rock her, overwhelmed by the perfect feel of her in my arms. “Are you complaining?”
She shakes her head, the fingers of her right hand lifting to brush back my hair. “I’m definitely not complaining. I like that you didn’t resort to violence.”
“I wanted to. But I thought comforting you was more important.”
“It was.” She kisses me softly on the cheek. “And I do feel much better.”
Her ministrations are hypnotizing me. Normally, I hate when girls try to touch me, but I could stay here all afternoon and let Vida play with my hair.
“Besides, the kind of violence I’m going to commit is more…corporate.”
She slides her thighs until she can grip my hips tighter, her lips treating mine to a featherlight touch. “Spoken like a true rich boy,” she says with a mischievous smile.
I can’t fucking believe how quickly Vida can put me on the verge of coming in my pants.
It’s sexual voodoo.
I want to settle her ass down on the counter and slip off her panties.
Ease her thighs wide, just to get a look at the sweetest pussy ever created.
Just a quick look could finish me. Or one tug of my sweatpants and I could have my cock out.
I just want to lay it on her lap and see what she does with it.
I’d be thrilled with a hand job at this point. God. Anything.
But she’s just been accosted and sexualized.
She needs comfort. Not more pressure.
“How come you’re never out on the beach with your friends?” she asks.