Page 58 of House of Lies

Ethan locks eyes with me, such steely determination in those gray irises that I can’t help a wry smile. Guess I’m not the only one around here getting hot flashes when I think about what happened last night.

But it doesn’t matter how fucking good it was.

Me and Ethan? Never going to happen.

He’s a rich, narcissistic prick. Yeah, he played me like a goddamn violin, but I can make myself come in two minutes when I need to, so why do I care?

Two boring minutes…

“I’m glad you’re still here,” Ethan says. He’s wearing navy blue sweats with a matching hoody, as if he’s just come back from the gym. The thought of him working out makes me salivate a little… especially when a quick downward glance confirms that he’s going commando under the sweats.

His eyes drop to the top of the towel, but he hastily focuses them on my face again. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

“You don’t say.”

There’s a glimmer of annoyance in his deep gray eyes, but his expression clears a moment later. “You saw the dress?”

“Hard to miss, since I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there when I went to sleep last night,” I drawl, taking another sip of my coffee.

But my gripes don’t seem to annoy Ethan for more than a millisecond this morning. He seems strangely calm. Dare I say it… happy?

He enjoyed what happened last night as much as I did—I was holding his cock through most of it. But this much?

A blush creeps up my face, and I hastily clear my throat. “We’ll address you sneaking into my room later. First, explain the dress.”

For the first time since meeting this man, there’s a touch of uncertainty in his eyes. He opens his mouth, but pauses before he speaks.

“If…If you’re available, I’d really appreciate a hand during the open house tomorrow.”

“Doing what?”

He shrugs. “Bunch of strangers in my house. They’ll probably want…canapés and champagne and stuff. Small talk. I’ve never been good with that kind of thing.”

I’m the one frowning now. I open my mouth, but he quickly puts up his hand to stall me. “I’ll obviously pay you for your time.”

“Um…”

“I don’t need your answer right away. Please…just think about it.”

He holds out a pair of sweats and a hoody, both in soft lilac. When I don’t take them from him, he says, “They’re brand new.”

My eyebrows lift. “You bought me clothes?”

He frowns, looks down at the sweats, and then back at me. His face clears as if he can suddenly understand my hesitation. “They belonged to someone else.”

Prickles of unease dance over my skin.

What the actual fuck?

I’m taking so long to process all of this, Ethan keeps filling in the blanks.

“She never wore them, though. Like I said, brand new.”

I have to summon my voice from the depths of my stomach. “Who never wore them?”

His frown deepens. “Does it matter?” His eyes dart across the room until he finds the heap where I left the maid’s uniform. “I don’t care what you wear when you’re working, and I’m sure you’ll be a lot more comfortable in these.”

Possibly…if I knew who the hell he’d bought them for.

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