Page 637 of Filthy Elites

He reaches for his shorts and pulls them on, tucking away his cock.

“You can go home now,” he says in a gruff voice, snapping me back to reality, and I feel like a cheap whore who’s just been dismissed from a job.

Quickly, I get off the bed, cover my nakedness and put on the bikini.

Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and I don’t look back at him as I walk out. I move as fast as possible, hoping to get as far away as I can.

Once outside, I jump in my car and drive.

It takes me ten whole minutes before I realize I’m driving in the wrong direction, and I have to do a U-turn and head back the right way.

God.What the hell is seriously wrong with me? I’m falling apart, slipping away, and doing shit that doesn’t make sense. None of my actions make sense, and now I’ve fallen into this hole of shit with this guy I don’t want to know, or feel for.

It was the touch—the way I touched him. That’s what made us snap.

It was too gentle, too sensual, too passionate for whatever we’re supposed to be.

Whatever it was, I can’t allow it to happen again.

I reach home an hour later and drag on a pair of shorts and t-shirt before I enter the house. Questions would be raised if I walked in dressed in a bikini.

I told Mom and Cal I’d be hanging out at a friend’s house, so they’d probably think we were swimming or something. I still wouldn’t do it, though.

When I step out of the car, I force Chad out of my mind. I don’t want him in my head anymore screwing with me.

The intimacy clouded my judgment along with the fact that being with him was different from anyone else I’ve ever been with.

He’s different, and he makes me feel different.

And… I can’t deny that I’m actually attracted to him.

I’ve felt attraction before, just not at this magnitude. That’s something I have to work through on my own and fast.

I need to remember why I’m doing this and not get sidetracked by the intense emotions that take over when I’m with Chad. I also need to watch myself when he does things like he did tonight.

To him, I’m a toy, a game, a joke. I’m this month’s piece of ass who might not even last the month. I imagine him getting bored and just paying me off early.

When I get what I want, I can leave all of this behind me.

I can leavehimbehind.

Grabbing my bag, I go into the house. The aroma of something delicious tickles my nose and wakes up my tastebuds.

It’s late, so the staff would already have left for the day. Either Mom or Cal does the cooking when they’re home.

When I get up to the floor where my room is, I see Cal ahead standing by my door, and I nearly freak out as I think he could have gone inside my room.

I quickly mull over what I might have left out on the bed or the desk, hoping against hope I wasn’t that stupid.

Then I see he’s painting my door. He’s painting it the lilac color my door used to be in L.A.

The house we lived in wasn’t where my nightmare took place. After it happened, my parents moved. That wasn’t for safety; it was for a fresh start.

I decided I wanted my walls purple, so Dad painted them for me. He did the door too.

Cal turns to face me when I get closer and gives me a warm smile. He doesn’t smile much when he’s with other people. In fact, I’d be more inclined to believe he couldn’t.

Usually, although he looks every bit the professional lawyer in a suit, when he’s in his casual clothes—like now—he looks like a regular guy. But, a tough guy.

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