Page 14 of Pleasure Lessons

“It’s time,” I say out loud. “You know it is.”

I want to fight for her, but there’s no fight to be had. How can a guy like me go up against Arthur? He could buy my entire block and burn it all to the goddamn ground. I’ve never felt so helpless or directionless in my entire life. This is not the kind of man I am. If I want something, I go for it. But when it comes to Cassandra, I don’t see that I have any other choice.

The airon the estate grounds is shimmering with the late-afternoon heat when I pull up in my truck and park in the lot. My legs are still burning from the run, and I’m drenched in sweat. I gaze around the grounds, hoping for once tonotsee Cassandra out for a walk. This is the one time I don’t want to see her.

I mean–I do, but it would only make what I’m about to do infinitely harder. If not impossible.

As I step out of the truck, I see Arthur’s Bentley by the front. I’ve always thought it was a gorgeous car, but today, it just makes me grimace. I walk past it on my way to the door, and as I glance to my right, that’s when I see her.

Through the ornate wood framing of the drawing room window, Cassandra sits on the edge of a velvet couch that probably costs more than my truck. She’s not wearing athletic gear today; she’s in a tight off-white dress with lace and pearls that makes her look like a doll. Her hands are folded in her lap and her back is straight, as though she has strings pulling her upby the shoulders. And in front of her, leaning in too close for me, is Arthur.

He moves closer, resting his hand on the couch beside her like he owns her. Even from here, I can see her jaw tighten, the motion in her throat as she swallows nervously. She looks frozen in place, like she’s terrified of this man who has no right to be near her. I can tell she wants to get up and run, but she’s doing what’s expected of her. She’s performing.

My right hand aches, and I look down and see it’s clenched into a fist. My knuckles are white. I take a breath and try to relax, but it doesn’t help. I want to bust through the window and tear him away from her, throw him across the room, and carry her back to my apartment.

But I can’t. If I do that, I’ll lose my job, my freedom,andher. At least as her coach, I get to see her now and then. And if that’s the best I get, well, it’s better than nothing.

I tear my resignation letter in half and turn away, but as I do, I catch a flicker of her eye turning to me. Did she see me? If she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. She can’t. Arthur would see, and he’s no dummy. He’d realize something was going on, and shit would hit the fan.

So teeth grinded together, fists clenched, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I walk off like a coward, back to my truck, while the man I despise most in the world–the man who signs my paychecks–looks at her like she’s his.

“You’re pathetic,”I growl at myself, driving my fist into my thigh. The pain distracts me, but only for a moment. Besides, I deserve it. “You’re a miserable little fool. Can’t even go out and get the woman you want. What the hell is wrong with you?”

The sun is down. I’ve been sitting in my chair at the kitchen table since I got back from the estate, wallowing in misery and self-pity like an absolute nothing of a man.

The vision of her beauty sweeps through my mind like a fireworks display. I’m all boned up, lusting over a woman I want but can’t bring myself to take.

“You coward,” I growl, punching my thigh again. There’s definitely going to be a bruise. “What would she think of you if she saw you sitting here like this?”

Another punch. I don’t even feel the pain anymore.

I glance at the dark sky out the window–at the door leading out of my apartment. No, I can’t stay here like this. I have to go to her. I can’t let her wonder where I’ve been, why I bailed on our lesson yesterday, and why she hasn’t heard from me. She’s going to start thinking I don’t like her–thatshe’sthe problem. And I can’t let that happen.

With a snarl, I snatch my keys from the counter and rip the door open, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Cassandra squeals and nearly comes out of her shoes, her tiny fist raised as though she was about to knock on my unit.

“Rhett!” she exclaims, her cheeks going instantly red. “You–you’re here!”

She’s absolutely gorgeous, in nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants and a crop-top that shows off her flat stomach. This girl doesn’t need makeup and fancy clothes to make her beautiful. She is the definition of it.

“You’rehere,” I reply, my cock swelling instantly beneath my pants. “How did you–what are you doing here, Cassandra? Does Arthur know?”

She quickly shakes her head. “No. I–I got a ride from one of the groundskeepers so Arthur wouldn’t suspect.”

A devilish smile twists over her lips. “I snuck into Arthur’s office and checked his receipts. Saw your information in his files.”

I nod, impressed. “That was very naughty of you, Cassandra.”

Her hair is messy, like she walked through the wind to get here. Her cheeks are pink, and her lips are parted slightly–she’s breathing heavily already, causing her breasts to rise and fall, revealing the fact that she’s braless.

My mouth begins to water.

“I waited for you,” she says, her voice soft. “You didn’t show up.” It begins to tremble. Her eyes are on the floor but snap up to mine, filled with anger and pain. “Youpromised!”

Her words are like a dagger to the chest. All I’ve done is push this gorgeous angel away, but no longer.

“Cassandra, I–”

“You know what I did, Rhett?” She steps forward, getting right up in my face. It’s out of character for her. Far more aggressive than I ever thought she could be. “Itouched myselfthinking about you.”

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