Chapter 45: Build a Fucking Boat

Thursday, October 10th, 5:41 am

I blinked, not sure where I was for a heartbeat.

Still in bed? With her?

No ... that wasn’t it.

I blinked again, clearing the sleep and sand as I stared up at the ceiling... remembering.

The weight of her body in my arms ... how soft ... how very real she felt.

I already missed the slow press of her breasts against my chest as she held me close.

Her ragged breathing still echoed in my ears.

God, my dick was already rock hard at the memory of her.

I’d grown accustomed to tasting someone new on a regular basis. There was Liana, the Dominican-American dancer who’d joined me in the hot tub after we broke from the rest of the group that night on the roof.

There had also been the dancers on the yacht. Leonie, Melina, and Iryna were very grateful for my sponsorship and for the use of the yacht.

But there was something different about finally fucking someone you’d been circling for weeks. All the flirting. The longing looks ... the lingering thoughts that haunted a mind that should have been focused on anything else.

Tension turning into touch. Hunger becoming tasting—that build-up made the payoff its own kind of pleasure.

I’d felt all of that last night with Camille.

The turn-on had been next level once I realized that William was not only in the house, but that he knew that I was fucking his fiancée.

It surprised me how much I’d been into the idea of taking another man’s woman. Especially a man as handsome and well-off as William. The idea that a woman like Camille would want me when she already had a man like him was an aphrodisiac of its own.

It made me feel powerful in some new way that I couldn’t quite identify.

Or maybe I wasn’t quite ready to face the dark urge coiled deep within.

I felt a body stir beside me and my fuzzy head began to realize that I hadn’t fallen asleep alone after all.

It just wasn’t with Camille.

Blinking once more to clear my vision, I focused on the silver head of a young woman curled against me, her head resting on my shoulder.

Erin—the ultimate engineer of last night’s tryst with my engaged chef.

She wasn’t just asleep. She was out cold.

As I shifted on the bed to get a better look at her, brushing silver gossamer from her face, she didn’t even stir. Her dead weight persisted, and I felt a faint line of drool on my chest. It was another sign of just how tired she was.

Camille was already gone from my mind. All I could see was the woman beside me, her naked body huddled against mine under the sheets.

I let my fingers drift through her hair, just watching her ... enjoying her. God, she was beautiful.

In her unconscious state, her face was less elfin and exotic and more ... innocent. Her high cheekbones and sharp but delicate jaw were softer as she slept peacefully beside me. Her lips that had done so many filthy things to me were now lightly parted in a gentle snore that resembled a purr. One arm draped loosely over my torso, the other tucked in close. A single slender leg crossed the tops of my thighs.

The sheets tangled around her hips, the soft rise and fall of her bare back exposed in the early morning light. I could feel the subtle twitch of her fingers now and then, a sign that she was dreaming. I only hoped they were good dreams. Erin deserved peace in her sleep.

I dragged my fingertips slowly down her spine, careful not to wake her. She still didn’t stir ... just a soft sigh, and then back to silence.

She was just Erin. No tricks. No games. Just a vulnerable girl who trusted me enough to fall into a deep sleep in my bed.

It was like she’d been made specifically for me, and in that moment, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be sharing this bed with than her. There was no denying it. I was falling for this girl.

I leaned forward and kissed the top of her head.

“Missed this,” I whispered into her hair.

Minutes ticked by as I let myself indulge in her before finally sliding my shoulder free and gently laying her head on the pillow. Once again, she didn’t even stir.

What the hell have they been putting you through? I thought as I slipped out of bed, watching my beautiful little assistant sleep soundly as I donned my robe.

Erin remained asleep while I got out of bed ... considering that she was normally the early-riser, this was a historic moment.

I gave her one more kiss on the head, letting my fingers linger on her baby-soft skin, and slipped out to start my day.

Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, I stepped out onto the balcony surrounding the open common room below and glanced down. It was rare to see it this early—dimly lit and ghostly, without a single person in sight.

I turned and headed toward the stairs, pulling out my phone to check my messages. The first one that grabbed my attention was a text from Psalter—He finally woke up around 3 am. Went back to sleep after drinking some fluids and eating a little. He’ll be ready for you in the morning.

A thrill of excitement shot through me as I remembered what that bastard had done to me. He’d beat me ... pissed on me ... he’d been intent on killing me once the time came. Had it not been for Chloe, he might have done it, too. I wanted him to answer for his crimes.

But I still needed to talk to Helen, first. He needed to pay for the decades of abuse and neglect he’d doled out to her as well.

A text from her let me know that she’d made it back here around four in the morning and had decided to sleep for a few hours in her own room. Reluctant to wake her, I decided to pass the time in my study.

I’d just started to wonder if I was the only one awake when I reached the top of the stairs—and saw Emiko at the bottom.

She’d been about to climb, but stepped back when she saw me, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

I was still getting used to people waiting for me.

I descended, and she didn’t speak until I reached the landing.

“Waking up early, I see,” she said with a slight bow of her head.

“I ended up going to bed a little early last night. Don’t get used to it.”

Starting toward my study, Emiko accompanied me.

“Are you always up this early?” I asked.

“It depends,” Emiko said softly, gliding next to me. “If my duties require me to stay up, I will sleep later. If I am required to get up early, I will go to bed earlier. I try to get nine hours of sleep nightly.”

“Nine!?” I stopped mid-step and gaped.

“Indeed.”

“How do you manage that?”

“It has been a challenge,” she admitted. “In previous roles, I had an assistant to help manage my charges. Here, the duties are less demanding, so I’ve managed.”

“Nine hours,” I said, picking up the pace again. “No wonder you always look like you’re glowing.”

It was true. Emiko never looked like she’d had a bad day. Her skin was luminous, her face flawless, her hair always exactly where it was meant to be.It was as if the woman had just stepped out of a bath, regardless of the time of day.

I’d always assumed it was a brutal self-care routine, and maybe it was, but nine hours of sleep certainly didn’t hurt. It also explained why she looked years younger than thirty-eight.

She gave me a demure little smile that lit up the hallway. “Thank you for your kind words, sir.”

“It’s just the truth,” I said, unable to maintain prolonged eye contact. It always felt like Emiko was studying my soul when our gazes met, but whatever this moment between us was, it made looking into those dark brown eyes a little like looking into a light that was just a little too bright.

“So, do you need someone?” I asked.

“Are you asking about my romantic life again, sir?” she asked, a hint of amusement to her words.

“What? No!” I said, glancing back into those too-bright eyes. “I meant...”

“I’m aware of what you meant,” she said, rescuing me from my own awkwardness. “I was planning on broaching the subject with you once your current troubles were settled, but since you’ve asked, I have been training Mrs. Lucas a little in the art of household management.”