“It was a surprise to me to find Jonathan’s father still sitting in his black chair, still holding a glass of liquor. The only difference now was that he sipped instead of gulped. When he looked back at me, his eyes were woozy. “Ah, here she is. Isabella Grace. Come. Sit.” I hated the idea of sitting in the same room as John Black but I didn’t want to be alone. I took a seat on the couch and felt uneasy with John looking at me the way he did. I could only imagine the thoughts running through his... mind. The last thing I wanted to become was a pawn between father and son. Nobody could touch me like Jonathan Black could. Nobody could pleasure me like him either. Nobody. “You miss him, don’t you?” I swallowed, ignoring the question. “I find it funny how things work, don’t you?” “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice quiet. “The temp worker ends up as a temp,” John said. He chuckled and sipped his drink. He looked at me and his eyes went wide. “You understand that, right?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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