Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Luckily when I get to the outside gate, I see my ride already there. “Can you open this?” I ask the man standing at the security gate.
“Where did you come from?” He steps out of the small building and eyes me with suspicion. I can’t blame him. I clearly don’t belong here in my worn sneakers, jean shorts, and hoodie.
“Reese Davis,” I respond. “I really have to go. My ride is waiting.” I point to the car idling outside the gate. They can’t keep me in here, can they? Before the man can reply, the gates start to swing open as a sports car pulls through to leave.
I take the opportunity and run toward my ride waiting for me. When I open the door to get in, the fancy sports car drives by. My heart drops when my eyes connect with my father’s. Our gazes stay locked until he passes me by. I can’t remember the last time I saw him, but it’s been years. I’d gone to his work to try and talk to him, but that hadn’t gone too well for me. My mom had been livid, and I found out later it broke some deal they had worked out.
“Ma’am?” The driver snags my attention.
“Sorry.” I get in the car and let my thoughts drift as I make my way to school.
Throughout all of my classes today, so many questions fill my head, making it hard to concentrate. Just when I start to think I’m getting a hold of my life, it begins to slip through my fingers. So many things are unstable and unanswered.
After my last class, I make my way across campus towards Reese’s office. As much as I tell myself it’s a terrible idea to go in there, I can’t help it. I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel this pull toward him. It happened last night when I got scared and then again while I was half asleep. I subconsciously seek him out, and I can’t figure out why.
I’m sure if anyone finds out about the two of us we’ll be in trouble. That’s one of many things we’ve yet to discuss. This is all-around bad for the both of us, and we know it. Not to mention Reese thinks I’m some sexy, wanton woman working at a strip club. There couldn’t be anything further from the truth.
He must be used to women with experience. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he can please my body better than I can. Jealousy starts to push its way into my heart, and I hate it. My mother was always a jealous person, but it was more over objects than people. I’m realizing that I’m doing exactly what she did—using my body to get what I need.
The big difference is, Reese seems to get a bit jealous too. From what I found out from my mother, my father didn’t want anything to do with her until she trapped him. Reese keeps making me say I belong to him while he stakes his claim. He reiterates that he’s the only one who gets to touch me. It has to be the reason he doesn’t want me working at the club. From the way my stomach gets upset thinking about him with someone else, I can understand how he feels.
Heck, I hated hearing those girls talk about him in class the other day. But maybe it’s different for Reese. Men don’t want to share but won’t offer the same courtesy to their partner. For all I know, this is a fling and I’m disposable. I’m sure if the university found out about Reese and me, they would kick me out. I’d lose all the money I’ve spent paying for this semester and be left with nothing.
When I swing by Reese’s classroom first, I see it’s empty. I debate going to his office next or going to work. If I live with Reese I won’t have to worry about rent and a few other expenses. Maybe I could get a job at a coffee shop since my bills would be significantly less, but then I wonder if he would be okay with that. I don’t love working at Heaven’s Door, but it pays so well.
Taking out my phone to check the time, I see it’s almost completely dead now. I take the stairs toward his office and pull to a stop when I see a line outside the door. There are four girls waiting in line outside his office, and all of them are dressed up with hair and makeup done. You’d think this was a casting call for models instead of office hours at a university.
“Is the wait long?” I ask the blonde in the short skirt at the front of the line.
“He’s been in there with Professor Sparks for a while,” she answers, rolling her eyes dramatically.