He lumbered up to the counter, then reached up and pulled down two mugs. He set them down on the counter next to the partially filled pot.
“You do what you’re told, you earn those calls.”
“No. Mr. Beacon said I could call them.”
He smirked as if he knew exactly what Mr. Beacon told me. His response proved it true. “Kitten. You have one call a month, one a week if I feel generous, and that’s only if you earn it. You signed it. Not me.”
Garrett was right, and I hated it. Hated him.
“Alright, warden, can I at least go out to the beach today?”
Space, I needed space. He couldn’t deny me that, right? While I was here, I would treat it like a resort. Spend my days on the beach getting a golden glow and my nights sleeping until enough time passed and I could plant my ass in the sand again.
A small grin played at his lip. “Only if you wear a bikini.”
Feeling spiteful, I gave him a grin. “Oh I will, but it’ll be covered with a t-shirt.”
He shook his head. “That’s a damn shame. That ass and those tits would look amazing in a barely-there bikini.”
He lifted the pot and poured me a cup. I located the sugar and put three in, stirred, and moved to the other side of the counter to put some distance between us.
“So?”
“Like I said. Bikini and nothing over it. Then yes. You can.”
“And if I don’t?”
His head shook, and something changed in his eyes. Something that made me want to take a step back from him even though I was up against the cabinet.
“You don’t want to find out.”
From the menace pouring from him, something he did not show me yesterday, I felt it prudent to listen. Maybe then he’d leave me alone.
“Fine. I’m going now.”
“Oh, kitten.” My steps faltered as I turned to him. He lifted his fingers to his nose and breathed in deeply. “You smell good enough to eat.”
My entire body shivered. I was both turned on and mortified. At that, I turned and dashed from the kitchen to change and get the hell out of this house and away from Garrett.
All the while, I could hear his chuckle.
8
Garrett
The thing about my profession, details were everything. One line could change the entire course of an agreement. Enissa had no clue the amount of power she gave to Charles Beacon. She had no clue that her short-term plan had a renewal clause.
While she was smart and no doubt read the document, I don’t think she truly fathomed the small details. Honestly, I wasn’t so sure the bastard rigged the document to have more pages than she signed because her initials weren’t found on the bottom of all the pages. I would ask her about this later. For now, I had the situation under control. Bottom line, she agreed to a contractual relationship with Charles Beacon. The details didn’t matter, not to a man like him.
She sold her body to the man no matter how she viewed it; that was his take on it.
In fact, I knew she was too centered on getting her mother the help Beacon offered to really think about the long-term effects.
It was bullshit.
To prey on someone’s darkest days was unforgivable. Beacon was a monster, whether he agreed or not. He was not my problem right this second.
Nope.
Enissa was.
The way she relaxed against me when she thought she was dreaming, the way her body came alive with simple touches, told me everything.
I wanted her.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t deny it.
I wanted her to tremble.
I wanted to take her to heights she never thought possible.
And her body, her reaction; well, she wanted me too. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
A thought hit me, and it moved me from the kitchen and into my guest room. From the armoire, I grabbed the items I would need and moved them to the nightstand of my bedroom. The day would come, and I would show her immense pleasure. While that day might not be today, I might get lucky and it would. Either way, I needed to be ready.
Looking outside, I noticed Enissa was down at the water … in a t-shirt.
Defiant kitten she was.
It made me hard.
Willing my cock to rest, I smirked when she turned her back to me. For a moment, she stared out at the ocean. For a moment, I wondered if she would keep the shirt in place and give up the opportunity to earn her phone call. It took a beat longer than I expected, but finally I watched her lift the shirt over her head and toss it to the beach. She was in the bikini. It was casual, black, full coverage over the plump globes of her ass.
The design of a tattoo was noticeable, but from this distance I couldn’t make out specifically what it was. It wasn’t a tramp stamp but rather something that covered the side of her hip and into her rib cage.
Later, I planned to know every detail of her ink.
For now, I was allowing her space while I attended to some business.
Heading back to the kitchen, I finished my coffee all to avoid watching the beauty on the beach as she took some time to sort her head. I could be a dick and crowd her more, but my end-goal here wasn’t to fuck with her head more than necessary.
A deal was a deal, and tomorrow morning she would find the phone she picked up this morning did in fact work. Moving to the jack, I popped the cover open and plugged the plastic piece back in place, reconnecting the line so it would work for her.
Going to my office, I unlocked the door and went straight to my desk. Powering up the computer, I checked my email. The usual business correspondence took up most of the lines. Then, there was Charles Beacon. I laughed at the subject line of his most recent attempt to contact me.
You owe me an update!
Wrong.
I didn’t owe anyone a damn thing.
He wasn’t worth the time or energy, so I simply ignored the email as I had done the previous ones he sent along with his calls. He would learn soon enough. I was certain by now he had figured out who held the power.
And it wasn’t him.
Opening the email that was important, I scanned the file sent to me, sat back in my chair, and relaxed. Things were falling into place.
Attending to some work that I could have put off but didn’t, the hours passed by. When the coffee had long since worn off and my stomach growled in hunger, I locked up the office and went to the kitchen. It was lunchtime, and both of us had skipped breakfast.
Looking outside, I found Enissa still on the beach. She was now out of the water, laying in the sun. Pouring two glasses of cucumber mint water and making two sandwiches, I plated things on a tray and made my way down to her. She slept peacefully on her stomach with her hair pulled up on top of her head and facing down with her forehead resting on her forearms crossed over each other. As I sat the tray down, she didn’t move. She was laid out on a blanket with the sun glistening down on her flawless skin. I drank her in. Her tattoo that caught my eye earlier was of a birch tree, and my mind wondered why she chose this particular tree.
Sitting quietly as to not disturb her, I got close in a way that I was almost hovering over her. Pulling a piece of ice from my glass, I pressed it to the back of her neck and trailed it down her back. She moaned but didn’t make a movement. Much like this morning when the change in her breathing let me know she was awake, but she hadn’t yet fully come to her senses, I knew she was coming to alertness.