Page 4 of Power Games

Minutes passed. He was still hard, and still disinterested as fuck. After a while, he just had to laugh. He considered sparing her feelings, but she had just gone on her knees before a stranger who didn’t know her name. He doubted her feelings were engaged in the matter.

“Sorry, sweet. It’s just not working.”

She removed her mouth from his dick and stopped pretending to moan in delight. “What?”

“This, I mean. It’s not you, it’s really, really me.”

Another lie. It was a bit of both, if he was entirely honest.

“You mean you don’t want to fuck me?”

The very idea seemed ludicrous to her, that much was clear. He sighed. He wasn’t cruel—spelling things out, and saying there was zero interest on his part felt like slapping the poor, bored socialite who lived for this.

“Come on, Patricia, you heard the man.”

That voice.

He’d never heard it before. He would have remembered it. It was much lower than most women’s—throaty, sexy, and yet teasing. Condescending, too.

His dick twitched before he turned to see that, contrary to what he’d believed, they hadn’t been alone in the bedroom. Shit, he really should have turned the light on.

It was no wonder that they’d missed the little voyeur: the woman was lying down on a Roman-style chaise lounge near the window, behind her bed.

The blonde, apparently called Patricia, froze and got to her feet.

“Vanessa. I didn’t know you were here.”

Vanessa. Theodore’s daughter—the first daughter.

Shit. He had his dick out in front of a kid. How old was she now? He quickly adjusted himself and closed his zipper.

“Evidently. Don’t apologize, though. I quite enjoyed the show.”

God, she certainly didn’t sound like a kid. Charles recalled that her brother had mentioned she was starting law school now. He breathed out. He probably hadn’t scarred her for life.

“In fact, carry on, don’t mind me. I’d love to see how such a gracious woman as you deals with rejection.”

Patricia huffed, pulled her dress back up and left, without closing the door behind her.

Charles felt awkward. He wasn’t used to being caught doing anything reprehensible.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. I know better than to keep my room unlocked. Besides, I’ve owed Patricia a good deal of embarrassment since fifth grade.”

He learned a couple of things from that exchange. One, Vanessa was a little bitchy. Two, he’d take her brand of crazy over his wife’s.

“Owed her?” he repeated, as he walked to the door.

He’d overstayed his welcome, surely. Yet, instead of leaving, like a sane person would have, he closed the door.

Anything beat going back down and seeing Izzy.

“She made fun of my braces. Constantly. You have no idea how many hours I’ve had to spend with Mr. Brown to undo the damage.”

He flipped the light switch then.

He’d known she was pretty. Heard it in her voice. He’d almost felt the smile at the corner of her mouth with every word crossing her lips.

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