Read Online Weak for Him by Lyra Parish - Free Book Online

nothing less than a fortress
funded by sex.
    "Welcome to my private compound.
Felton Estates."
    I rubbed my hands over the
steering wheel before I removed the keys from the ignition and
handed them to Mr. Felton.
    "Told you V would give you the
ride of your life. She's never disappointed."
    As I opened the door, he pulled me
back into the car. I turned my body toward him.
    "Before you go in, you must know
you moving here is simply protocol."
    "Is that what yesterday was as
well? Protocol?"
    "Since you understand. Shall
we?"
    My first orgasm was fucking
protocol.
    With a beat, he opened his door,
grabbed my bags from the trunk and handed them over. The sparkle in
his eyes vanished; it was every woman for herself because he had
turned all business.
    "Since I was five."
    "Excuse me?"
    "I've been dancing since I was
five. Trained in jazz and ballet and danced my way through
college."
    He swallowed, and I caught the
hint of a smile form on his face, but it never
manifested.
    White marble steps led up to the
double wooden doors. Inside stood Paisley, Jesse, and another girl
whom I hadn't met yet.
    "Everyone, please welcome Ms.
Jennifer Downs to the house. She is new to the business, and I hope
that each of you welcome her as if she were a long-lost
friend."
    Jesse scoffed, and Paisley elbowed
her. Mr. Felton stared at Jesse until she looked away. The other
girl, pretty with dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes, had freckles
sprinkled across her face like stars in the night sky. There was no
pattern to her prettiness. She had a natural quality about her. Not
innocent but not fake, I couldn't explain it. Her hair flowed
midway down her back, and she wore it in a tucked-in side swoop.
She smiled at me, and I smiled back. A kindred spirit in a room
full of tigers, I supposed.
    "Lori, won't you show Jennifer to
her room?" Paisley asked.
    She didn't complain, or give dirty
looks, or act upset by my presence. Instead, she introduced herself
formally and grabbed a suitcase from my hand, and we walked up the
stairs. I couldn't help but stare up at the high ceilings or
memorize the various abstract paintings on the wall.
    The upper floor had several doors
lined against the wall, and I wondered how many women lived here at
one time.
    "Don't worry. You'll get used to
being here. It doesn't take long."
    Her words and voice were
reassuring, soft, and motherly, although she couldn't have been
much older than me.
    "How many women live
here?"
    "Right now there are five of us
here, six including you. The rest of the girls have their own
places but drop in occasionally. Here we are."
    The fourth door on the left would
be mine.
    Inside were beige walls, a sleigh
bed, and a large window with a balcony. At least I had
that.
    "I'm right next door," she said as
she pointed to the right, "if you need anything."
    I smiled.
    "I'm happy you're here, Jennifer.
It seems everyone else is sewn into cliques. Plus it's nice to no
longer be the new girl."
    She gave a sincere smile and shut
the door.
    I unpacked my clothes and laid
them in the dresser and then opened the balcony door and stepped
out. The backyard had a hot tub and a pool, and a patio bar and
pool house. I only imagined the kind of sex parties that happened
down there. My mind went wild with naked people strutting around
the pool, having sex with one another in the corner, and the moans.
Oh gosh, the nasty moans. Sometimes my imagination even scared
me.
    Three knocks tapped on the door,
and I barely cracked it. Mr. Felton leaned against the frame only
enough for me to see his face.
    "Yesterday was a mistake. I wanted
to apologize."
    "It's not like I enjoyed it
anyway."
    "Of course you didn't. I wouldn't
expect a virgin to."
    "Bastard," I whispered.
    And then he walked
away.
     

 
    Ten
    M r. Felton and I didn't
cross paths for weeks. The memories of getting naughty in his
office were just that, memories. Mistake memories, if I were to
term them correctly.
    Training sessions, one after
another, continued