Page 93 of Rhet

“Rhet, please,” she begs.

“Having him pound the shit out of you, and you’re going to moan, York and not think about pie or a dog.”

“No, I won’t.” She is not even looking in my direction.

“I can hear it now. Yes, right there, right there. Oh God, York Peppermint Patty.” I hold on to the table and shake it.

I want throw something. Just the thought of another man between her legs makes me irritable. However, she is not even bothered by me right now.

“I won’t.”

“You would because he’s English and most likely boring. Your poor pussy will be so depressed.” I cackle. I feel the need to push against her boundaries

“Can you imagine going to your doctor because you are suffering a Yorkshire pussy aka a depressed one?”

“It has been depressed a time or two this month. I’m still functioning quiet well. Are you?”

The urge to reach for her and spank her cute jiggly ass comes over me. However, we now have standards and rules. I’d rather die than change my rules.

She taps on her phone.

“Rhet, the caterer is already at the house.”

I nod, not feeling like I should respond. I need a drink, a strong one.

“Don’t forget we have the Steel Union Gala to attend. Call Francine and tell her she’s my date.” I have no idea why I feel the need to spite her its near juvenile, but I can’t help it.

She nods and types. Nothing I do or say is has an effect on her. Christ on the cross I might be losing my fucking touch.

“Please note you’re also expected to be there.”

“Can I bring a date?” she asks. If she thinks she’s bringing that fucking English looking rose to the gala, she’s lost her fucking mind.

“Fuck no, this isn’t universal date night, you will be working. Fuck on your own time.”

She smirks. “Oh, I will.”

She’s pushing me to my freaking limits. An email pops up on my screen from Senator Barrett. I open it and I get what I expected. A no. I’m trying to do right by my brother’s name and create a whole new world on the Waterfront, but these fuckers are making it so hard to be good. Once I get home, I will definitely need a stiff drink.

ZEETA

“You’re gorgeous. I’m Gia, this is Henry. We are Rhet’s parents.” Rhet’s mom exclaims as we open the door.

“How can you go back to Julian after her?” Gia squeals

Rhet’s dad roves his eyes over my body slowly. His look makes me tug my skirt down.

“Easy. I really can’t wait for him to get back,” Rhet replies.

We all walk into the kitchen.

“Tell me about yourself, Zeeta?” his mom asks.

There are some questions I hate being asked. It’s like I’m in an interview with HR.

“There’s nothing to tell she’s boring,” Rhet replies.

A staff member comes to the island and places some hors d'oeuvres on the table.

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