Read Online Caught on Camera: Part Two by Lily Harlem - Free Book Online Page B

consider acceptable, yet at the same time, he was massively turned on by it.
    So much so that he’d masturbated yet again in the shower that morning, just to try to get through the day. He’d come three times in less that twenty-four hours, which was more than in the last month in total, being that he was sad and single.
    The van tires crunched on the gravel then came to a halt. He opened the door, reached for his backpack then looked up at the imposing brick built building. It had rows and rows of white windows at the top, several large bays at the bottom and a pillared porch covered in small pink flowers and ivy.
    There was a navy blue Merc on the drive, a sleek red, open-top sports car and a Porsche Boxter, black and shiny with silver alloys.
    He headed around the back to the tradesman’s entrance. At least that’s what Mrs. Henley-Smythe had called it when he’d arrived at the beginning of the week.
    He was a little disappointed that Cade’s gardening van wasn’t on the drive, but he figured he probably only worked once or twice a week, cutting the lawn and weeding.
    Reece tapped on the back door.
    “Come in.”
    He opened it and went into the kitchen. Mrs. Henley-Smythe was standing at the large island with her handbag over her shoulder.
    “Oh, Reece, I’m glad you’re here. I’m just heading out for the day. Do you think you’ll be finished later?”
    “Yes, I think so. Would you like me to leave my invoice with you now?”
    “Yes, do and I’ll settle up with you.”
    He rooted around in his bag and pulled the invoice out. “Here.”
    “Great.” She glanced at it then opened her purse. “Cash okay?”
    “Er, yeah, perfect.” Perhaps he’d be able to cut his tax on this job.
    She smiled and began to count out four hundred pounds in twenties.
    Reece licked his lips. Money. Yep, it made the world go round and that would pay his massive electric bill—the result of a cold winter—and get him a new set of front wheels on his van. The ones he had were bald, dangerous in the rain. He’d be glad to get that job done.
    “Thanks,” he said when she handed it to him. “And if you ever need anything else decorating, just give me a call and feel free to pass on my details to your friends.”
    “Yes. I will. I have your number. Thanks again,” she said with a smile. “Have a nice day.” She walked from the room, her heels tapping on the floor.
    Reece stared after her for a moment then looked around the plush kitchen. It wasn’t his taste particularly, more farmhouse than big, modern town home. He wondered if Mrs. Henley-Smythe would have preferred a cottage somewhere. But even so, despite the small plates set out on a picture rail and the bunches of dried herbs and flowers hanging over the huge Aga, it was still pretty impressive.
    He checked that his shoes were clean then headed through the hallway toward the stairs. His equipment was in the bedroom waiting for him and his brushes had been soaking overnight.
    As he walked past a shiny dark wooden door, he heard voices. He paused. It was Mr. Henley-Smythe again, he was sure of it, no doubt talking about his movie empire and his latest script. It sounded like he had someone in there with him. Maybe it was someone famous? An Oscar-winning Hollywood star or director? Steven Spielberg, perhaps?
    But the voices were muffled and he couldn’t make out individual words. But at least it was today that Mr. Henley-Smythe was working from home and not yesterday. That really would have spoiled his fun with Cade.
    Reece went up the stairs, into the bedroom and headed for the window. He stared out at the lawn. Neatly striped, it seemed empty without Cade on it. He looked at the pool and thought of the fun they’d had and the kiss that was on the video.
    He studied the diving board and shook his head. “Seriously?” What the hell was a camera doing under there?
    “Seriously what?”
    Reece spun around.
    Cade was standing in the doorway. But unlike yesterday, he