Her phone is in her lap and there’s a frown on her face.
"Everything okay?"
She startles at my voice and drops her phone on the bed. Her gaze wanders lazily down my naked chest and her frowns falls away. Good girl.
"It’s fine." She sets her phone beside her on the bedside table. I wonder if she was talking to someone from home again. "How was golf?"
"Hot. I’m going to shower."
She nods, her eyes not daring to stray from mine, though I can tell she’s drawn to my body.
I wash quickly, without waiting for the water to warm, soaping up my chest, abs, under my arms and of course the parts of me I want her mouth on. Wrapping a towel around my hips, I enter the bedroom once again, but this time Sophie’s gone. The fuck? Apparently we need to cover some ground rules. Like rule number one, be naked and waiting on my bed for me at all times.
Releasing a frustrated sigh, I drop the towel and dress before heading downstairs to find her.
Sophie’s sitting in the den, the same spot we sat last night. Her legs are curled under her and she’s holding a book in her lap. All I can think of when I enter this room is her on her knees in front of me, taking my dick deep into her warm mouth. Christ, it’s been way too long since I’ve been laid.
Her eyes lift from the book and settle on mine when I sit down across from her.
"Find something good?" I nod toward the book in her hands, which I assume has come from my personal library.
"Emily Bronte." She holds up the cover of Wuthering Heights for me to see. It’s a dark and twisted love story. Story of my damn life.
"Have you read it before?"
"In high school. But I don’t remember much of it." Setting the book down on the cushion beside her, she folds her hands in her lap and looks at me expectantly. She’s curious about what’s going to happen next.
"Are you hungry?" I surprise her by asking.
She nods carefully. I’m starving after the long afternoon spent on the course and when I reach for her hand, she carefully places her palm against mine. I tell myself that it’s important I get her comfortable with me, but in actuality, I just like touching her. Her skin is so damn soft, it almost doesn’t seem real.
I lead her into the kitchen. Sunday is the only day I don’t have a staff here to prepare meals, but Beth usually leaves me with enough leftovers to survive for one day without her. I find the fixings for club sandwiches left in plastic containers and labeled in Beth’s efficient script. Turkey, strips of crisp bacon, avocado spread, gruyere cheese, and thick slices of tomato marinated in vinaigrette.
We assemble the sandwiches at the island and take our plates back into the den.
"I’m curious about why you’re here…" I pause, watching her reaction. It’s obviously for the money, but I can’t figure out why a girl like Sophie would be desperate enough to sell herself. She’s a clean cut, normal girl by all outward appearances. I strongly doubt she has gambling debts or a drug addiction to fund. I take a bite of my sandwich and wait for her to answer. Honestly, I have mixed feelings about finding out more about her and making this personal, but I’m too damn curious not to ask.
She seems hesitant at first and chews her food slowly, stalling for time. "My sister’s sick," she says softly, so soft I can barely hear her. "Her care is very expensive," she continues. It isn’t what I’m expecting and her honesty surprises me.
"The money…it will help?" I ask.
"Very much so," she whispers. I can tell she has mixed feelings about all this. As relieved as she seems at taking care of her sister, I sense there’s some lingering guilt about leaving home during a time of hardship.
I have no intention of baring my soul as completely as she’s done. I can’t. I doubt she’d stick around if she knew the real reason she was here. And I’m certainly not ready to let her go, especially before I’ve fulfilled the promise of her sweet, tempting body.
Her answer makes me feel the tiniest bit less selfish. I may have spent a million dollars to bring her here for my own egocentric needs, but knowing the money is going toward a worthy cause helps my conscious the slightest bit. "So you sold the only thing of value you had to save her." It’s more a statement than a question, but Sophie nods.
She’s an interesting girl, and not at all how I assumed she’d be, watching her stand up on that auction block, defying us all by covering herself. She’s sweet and timid and something in me knows I should be careful with her. I recall the way she slept against me last night, letting me spoon my body around hers and gripping my thumb like a newborn clings to its mother once sleep finally found her. Her selfless choice to come live here with me, a virtual stranger, strikes something within me. She is fearless. Strong. A woman worth knowing.
We eat in heavy silence, each of us seeming to process this new revelation about the nature of our relationship.
"How did you lose your virginity?" she asks.