Page 59 of Ashes of Saints

We all have a price to pay for the world we were raised in. Soon it will be time for her to know the truth.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AURORA

Life is different now that I live in my mother's house. After Parker showed up and fucked me like I’ve never been fucked before, then had his group of guys deliver my paintings, he turned into the man I thought he was when we met.

“You didn’t need to have them brought here. They’re not worth anything.”

“They might be.” Parker pulled my hips so that I was flush against his hard cock as we stood in the kitchen the next morning.

I gave him a look to say stop messing with me.

No one was going to buy my messy art, but I was fine with that.

Now, I could only hope someone would give me a few hundred dollars for one, as I stare at the utility bills and gulp.

I fire off another message to Mr. Lynch. Surely I can get access to some of the two million cash to help run the house before probate can be completed.

It’s a growing problem. I can’t sell the penthouse until Mom’s estate is settled, and I may not have the funds to live here.

Or do I get roommates? There are six bedrooms, so I have space. I’d rather not. The last thing I want is other people living here. Parker has been over every night for the past four nights and we’ve fucked in almost every room.

Each time, I don’t think he’s going to return.

But he does.

The buzzer sounds just after dinner each night. I press it. He walks in, strips me, and fucks me.

We don’t talk. Just fuck.

Sometimes he leaves soon after, pulling up his pants, tucking in his cock, and then kissing me on the lips harshly, and leaves.

I should stop it.

I don’t want to.

I’ve never had such incredible sex in my life.

A man like Parker won’t stick around, so I’m not concerned. I’m on birth control, but we haven’t used condoms, and that is very irresponsible of me.

Tonight, I’m going to mention it. There will be the opportunity to, because last night, as he kissed me goodbye, he leaned into my ear, making me shiver, and said, “I’m taking you out tomorrow night. Wear something elegant and pretty. And no panties.”

My tummy has been full of butterflies all damn day.

I don’t care where we are going, but I know naughty things are going to happen. I’m permanently wet at the moment, compliments of Mr. Parker Stone.

I toss the bills back on the kitchen counter and glance at the clock.

Seven-thirty.

I don’t know what time he’s arriving, but all this hanging around in my little black dress with no underwear is not helping my patience.

I did have a bath earlier, as all the angry sex is having an effect on my body. Still, despite calling me his dirty slut, I’m not feeling like it. Not completely anyway.

I walk over to the bunch of two dozen red roses I received yesterday—long stem roses—and draw in a breath.

Sure, in between the fucking and not talking, he’s being romantic, but there’s no real connection. I’m confused but not unhappy, so I don’t say anything.

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