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Chapter 1
Abigail
This is fucking stupid! Who does he think he is anyhow? I shook my head as I walked into the master bedroom of real estate mogul, Devon Townstead. What is it with rich people? Just because they have money they think they can live like pigs and us little people come behind them and clean up their messes for a pittance?
Of course, in my situation I was being paid half-decently well to clean up after him, and I had agreed to the terms thinking it would be awesome to clean a billionaire’s mansion. Then again, I didn’t expect this. And I did need money for school and to support my five-year-old, Isabella. College wasn’t cheap, and neither was trying to make a go as a single mom while attending school. I was taking this semester off to raise money. But this was my life, at least for now. Three more years and I’ll have graduated with a degree in social work and the next stage of our lives would begin.
I sighed as I put on a new pair of plastic gloves and pulled back the blankets, so I could start making the bed, which was left in a disarray – as usual.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I groaned out in exasperation, looking down at the black lacy thong and giving my head a shake. Did the tramp he brought home last even realize she’d left without her underwear? And why was it always thongs I found in or around the bed. Hell, once I found a bra in the kitchen! I hated thongs - who wanted to spend the day picking a fabric string out of their ass? And for what? To impress some man, who may or may not bother calling you back the day after? Boy shorts for me, and if I were in a sexy mood then I’d go for a pair of Brazilian cut bikini underwear.
Grabbing the pillows, I pulled the cases off them. One had numerous long blonde hairs on it. The night before last, it was red hair. Last week, black curly. Guess I was going to have to be replacing the bedding completely since there was no doubt their sex juices were all over the bedding. All the washing was seriously killing the beautiful fine-quality sheets. Not that he cared; I was sure that he’d have no issues spending the money to replace them when the time came.
Did these women even know they were just the flavor of the night? Or maybe they just didn’t care. Perhaps they thought that they would be the one who tamed the playboy billionaire? Like they were the one with the golden cooch to make him go gaga over them. Placing the stripped down-filled king-sized pillows on the arm chair next to the bed I tugged at the corner of the fitted sheet and pulled it off.
Who cared that he was a sexy big-shot billionaire? He was also a dick. Okay, maybe I hadn’t actually met him, despite working for him for a few weeks now, so I was making an assumption. He’d hired the agency I worked for and they sent me. Though any man who went through the number of women he did would have to be a swell guy. Womanizers were always high-brow people.
Bundling up the linen in my arms and keeping it away from my face, I left the bedroom with the mountain of linen blocking my vision, but I didn’t need to see to know where I was going. Making my way down the hallway to the large walk-in linen closet, I dropped the linen in the dirty linen cart, tomorrow was laundry day. The linen closet was as big as the living room in my apartment, which wasn’t saying much. All the linen was organized by color and material type, fleece, cotton etc. Opening the closet, I grabbed a sheet set and made my way back into the bedroom.
I stopped halfway back to the bedroom as I jolt of pain shot through my mouth. Damned tooth. My tooth had been aching for weeks. Unfortunately, Anytime Maid Service didn’t offer very good dental coverage. But I’d managed to save enough to get the work done, it was just a matter of finishing off my prescription of antibiotics and then getting the root canal. The pain killers they’d given me were working pretty well, but if I wasn’t taking the pain killers religiously then the pain would come back with a vengeance – like now.
Pulling the bottle of pain killers from my apron pocket, I opened the bottle and shook a capsule from the bottle. Popping it into my mouth, I dry swallowed it and carried onto the bedroom.
Walking into the bedroom, I placed the linen on the chaise at the foot of the bed and grabbed the first pillow case. I was in the process of pulling the case onto the pillow when my ears perked up at the sound of movement behind and to the right of me – near the door.
My entire body froze up, my hand in mid-reach for the second king-sized pillow.
Another footstep.
Oh shit! Someone broke in! While I knew I should have turned and faced the intruder, I couldn’t. I was suddenly starting to get a better understanding of the whole deer in the headlights concept because I was frozen.
“You’re the maid, I assume.”
Crap. It was worse than an intruder: it was Mr. Townstead. I’d wondered about him and by God there were plenty of times I’d wanted to give him a solid piece of my mind. How can a man be so neat and organized in the entirety of his house, except for the bedroom? It was like he wanted me to find the underwear and condoms and assortment of sex toys. That was sick, truly.
Spinning around to face him, I straightened up, squaring my shoulders, lifting my chin, and eyed him. The few pictures he had on the walls of him and various high-profile people didn’t do him justice. They didn’t come close to conveying the amount of charisma and sex appeal that was emitting from him right now. His dark hair was brushed back, short on the sides and a little too long on top, yet it worked for him. His cheekbones were high and chiselled, accented by a strong dimpled chin. But God, his grey eyes were what really captivated me, boring right into my brain and turning it to jelly.
Okay, I was beginning to get why women flocked to him. Based on looks, he had the vast majority of men beat, hands down. Standing in front of me with his tie undone and his navy blue shirt unbuttoned displaying a smooth chest of muscle, he could easily grace the cover of GQ magazine.
Dang!
“Are you deaf or just not sure if you’re the maid?”
I could hear the amusement in his tone, but still the question pissed me off. “I turned when you spoke, so I suppose you could cross deaf off the list.” There was curtness in my tone and didn’t feel a damned bit sorry for it.
He smiled, not seeming to notice my annoyance. “Then I guess you’re confused on whether you’re the maid?”
“I’m about to change your bedding, so unless I’m a burglar that gets off on cleaning the place they’re robbing, who I am should be pretty apparent.” I gave him a smile, but it was forced. I refused to allow myself to be swayed by his sexy smile or those captivating grey eyes. Those eyes drew me in, making me want to lose myself in them.
“I see.” Removing his tie fully, he shrugged his shirt off his shoulders. “You seem a little agitated.”
My eyes shifted to the bra I’d placed on his night side table and the anger that I’d been feeling raced through me again. Planting my hands on my hips, I stared hard at Mr. Townstead, narrowing my eyes to show I meant business. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Oh.” He didn’t appear concerned that I was angry. More amused then anything.
“Yes.” He didn’t ask why I was upset, but he damned well was going to find out. There was a little voice in the back of my head that was screaming at me to shut my mouth, I needed this job, because rent wasn’t free. And I had a little girl to think about who needed food and clothing and… Ugh.
But, I couldn’t. For my own sanity, I needed to address this issue, and what better time than with the culprit standing before me.
“So, I’ll bite.” As he asked me the question, he began to undo his belt. “I can tell you’re just itching to tear into me. What’s bothering you?”
Holy shit, was he planning on undressing in front of me? I could feel my cheeks burning and as much as I wanted to shift my gaze, I didn’t. I refused to give him the satisfaction. If he wanted to pull his whole damned whang out in front of me, then so be it. As long as I didn’t have to touch it.
Looking him square in the eye, I continued, “I would greatly appreciate it if the ladies you bring home at night would take with them all the undergarments they brought with them.” Walking over to the nightstand, I gingerly dangled the red lace bra from my thumb and index finger.
He didn’t respond, but his smile did grow wider as he pulled his belt from the loops.
“Also - ”
“Oh, so there’s more…” Cocking a brow up at me he continued to grin.
“Also.” Not to be deterred from my tirade, I continued, “I want to discuss the used condoms.”
“Safe sex is very important.” He began unbuttoning the front of his pants. Wouldn’t what he was doing be considered sexual harassment? Shouldn’t he be scared of a lawsuit?
My mouth was open preparing for the rest of what I had to say, but as his fingers went for his fly, I froze.
“Go on. I’m curious to see what you have to say.” Pulling down his zipper, he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and tugged down his trousers, leaving him in a pair of red boxer briefs.
It was taking every ounce of willpower not to let my gaze drop and sneak a peek at the package that was offered beneath his boxer briefs. What did he have to offer the women he brought home each night?
“I’ve found used condoms all over this room.” I waved my arms, frantically, around me. “All over!”
“Is that so?” His smile didn’t fade; if anything, it grew wider.
“Yes, quite frankly, it’s disgusting. You have emptied waste baskets in virtually every room of this place for a reason. I know they’re empty because I empty them… Every. Single. Day.” I jabbed my index finger in his direction with each word to ensure he got the point. “Would it be so much to ask for you to dispose of them properly?”
“You have my apologies, sometimes in the heat of the moment it ruins the mood to get up and throw out a condom properly when she’s waiting for a second round. Hampers the flow, you know.” His apology seemed far from sincere. “Afterwards, I will admit to sometimes forgetting.”
Whoa. Hold up. Wait. Was he serious? I’d never been with someone who could go twice in a row without a rest period. I couldn’t resist any longer – call it weakness – whatever. My gaze lowered to his groin. The bulge in his boxers was impressive. There’s no way he was flaccid right now. He had to at least be sporting a semi.
Had to…
“Seeing something you like?” he asked, breaking me from my pondering. Busted. Oh crap, if someone could die from embarrassment then I would have dropped dead right on the spot. Would that mean I was now the one who was the harasser?
“No. What?” I raked a hand through my hair. My gaze shifted so that I was staring at a painting of a landscape over his right shoulder and then out the window over his left. I looked everywhere but at him. Why couldn’t I have worked quicker and avoided all this hassle? I was fully within my allotted four-hour window, but still. Better yet, why couldn’t I just have kept my big mouth shut, finished my work and left?
“You didn’t.” He frowned, but it was a mocking frown. “Usually, it impresses. Maybe you just need the full effect to really judge for yourself.” He stepped over to his dresser and began rummaging through the drawers. With his back to me I was safe to get a good look at him from behind without him seeing me.
His shoulders were broad, but not body builder thick, just thick enough to have nice definition. Slowly my gaze lowered down his back and to his ass. Damn, he had a sweet ass. I could see the hard lines under the briefs that turned into thick and powerful thighs. He certainly would have the stamina to go round after round if the woman could handle it.
I wonder if he trims, shaves or just leave his public area as is?
Fuck, where did that thought come from? Work. I needed to just get back to work and pretend the whole encounter didn’t happen. I’d just ignore his presence and he’d ignore me and hopefully I’d never run into him again. Turning from him, I grabbed a pillow case and began to shove the first pillow into it. The anger I’d been harbouring before was long done, pushed out by my embarrassment.
“You’ve never had a one-night stand before?”
With a sigh, I turned back to face him. “This is a very inappropriate conversation, Mr. Townstead.” He owned a company, many companies in fact, so surely he knew the sexual harassment laws.
“I’m aware, but curious anyhow. Guess I’m willing to take the risk you won’t sue.” He was fully dressed again with a pair of grey training pants and t-shirt with the Under Armor logo on the front. He had a full gym on the first floor with state of the art equipment, I would assume that was where he was headed after he was finished having fun at my expense. With any luck he’d get bored of teasing me and be moving on sooner rather than later.
A part of me was going to refuse to answer as he had no right to ask such personal questions, but perhaps he needed to hear that not all women are willing to fall to the feet of a rich, good-looking man. “No, as a matter of fact, I’ve never.” Dropping the pillow onto the bed, I crossed my arms over my chest. “When I’m with a person, it’s not because of some physical release, it’s because I love and care for them. It’s called love making because it’s an expression of love between two people.”
He rolled his eyes. The bastard actually had the nerve to roll his eyes at me. “Love. Humph. Love has nothing to do with it. Love and sex doesn’t have to be one in the same, it’s a misconception.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“You’re telling me that you’ve never had sex with someone without loving them first?” He took several steps towards me.
I refused to back away, no way was he going to intimidate me, or whatever it was that he was attempting to accomplish. I stood straighter, lifting my chin and coming up to my full 5’3, nearly a foot shorter than him. “Maybe it’s a little hard for you to believe, but not everyone lives the way that you do. Some people have restraint, and don’t lead their lives led by their hormones. Not all women are like the ones who fall for your charm every night.” As soon as I said the words, I immediately regretted them. I needed this job and I was on the fast track to being fired if I didn’t backpaddle, and quickly.
He clucked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, eyeing me. “Are you confident in that?”
“Very.”
He took another couple of steps towards me, stopping just a foot before me. He had gotten so close that I could faintly smell his cologne. I yearned to lean in closer and get a better sniff, to bask in the scent – a combination of woods and spice - but refrained. There was no way I was going to feed his overflowing ego.
“Then I propose a challenge to you,” he said with a twinkle in his eye that both alarmed and excited me.
“Okaaaay.”
“You live here. Stay here for a month and we’ll test the theory.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I get to fuck you every night for the next month. If by the time the month is over you’re not head over heels in love with me, then five-hundred thousand dollars will be deposited into your bank account.”
“Five hundred thousand?” I crunched my nose up at him, not sure if I was fully understanding what he was proposing. Was the man insane? He had to be, I couldn’t be hearing him right.
“Fine. You get five-hundred thousand upfront for participating in this little experiment. And another five-hundred grand at the end of the month.”
He had to be fucking with me. I mean, really, who in their right mind offered such a thing? Maybe he’d watched Indecent Proposal too many times. Well, he wasn’t Robert Redford and I sure as hell wasn’t Demi Moore.
“You’re out of your mind? Or is it a hobby of yours to mess with the hired help?”
“I’m completely serious. You look at me as if I’m some womanizing low-life. I want to prove to you that sex can be enjoyed without that silly love stuff getting in the way. It’s nothing more than an activity two adults can indulge in.”
“And where does all this love stuff get involved in the equation?”
He grinned and gave me a wink. “Just an additional challenge for me.”
Mr. Thomson was serious. Holy shit, he really was. One million dollars; that would completely change the lives of both my daughter Isabella, and myself. My student loans would go away, I could finally buy a car that was dependable… maybe even a house for us to live in.
But the rub: I would be little more than a glorified prostitute. But, shit, there was so much I could do with that money. Isabella could get the things that she’d been asking for that I hadn’t been able to give to her. There was some sort of gaming system that all the kids were after, but I never had the money to get it for her. She was only five, but seemed to up to date on the latest gaming trends. And she’d never been on vacation – ever.
As I stared up at him, for the first time in my life I was speechless.