...
She'd called me up last minute after a couple weeks of no contact to go pick the kid up, and I knew it was one of her power plays. She was trying to see if she could still get me to dance to the beat of her drum.
The only reason I'd done it was because I had this vision of some poor orphan Annie standing in Penn Station, lost and alone, while that human succubus left her there all night.
I wouldn't put it past her to do something like that, and the thought of it, even though I didn't know this girl, whoever she was, was too much even for a hard ass like myself.
From the description Marion had given me, though, I'm sure this is not at all what she'd been expecting.
The girl walking beside me was no orphan Annie, and she was no hayseed either.
She might have that wholesome look about her, with her flawless skin and that hair that made me think of sinful things, but she was far from the bucktooth frump that Marion thought her to be. Have mercy on whoever fed her that misleading information.
I watched her out the side of my eye as we headed out of the station. Nope, she wasn't at all what I'd been expecting; that ass alone was worth the ride to the train station.
Calm the f**k down, Cal; she's a kid; you're too old for her. Besides, you were f*****g her aunt a month ago.
'Yeah, but she's not really her aunt remember?' shut up you. My d**k likes to have his say when he thinks I'm being stupid; he's landed me in more trouble than I like to remember.
I wasn't sure what, if anything, I should do; it wasn't my problem after all; but I know Marion, this girl is everything she hates. She's young, gorgeous, and sweet, the trifecta that will be like a stake through Marion's black heart.
She hates the fact that she's getting old, though thirty-five is far from old, and any female more beautiful than she was considered an enemy.
There was no way she was going to be able to live with this girl for more than a day, furthermore a few months, or however long she thought it would take before she could safely send her packing without looking like the b***h that she is.
“Have you eaten, sweetheart?" I looked over at her as I threw her bags in the trunk. She hadn't said a word since we left the station, but I could see from the way she looked around at the hustle and bustle of the city and the bright lights that she was entranced.
“I had some crackers on the train." She blushed after giving me her answer and bit the corner of her lip.
Fuck little girl, don't do that. How the f**k do I get myself into these things? I opened her door for her and seated her; that blush never went away.
I had to adjust myself as I made my way around to the other side. This was not part of the plan; I was supposed to be picking up a halfwit with bad skin and scarecrow hair; that's the picture I had in my head from Marion's description.
Not some bombshell that was making my c**k ache from just the f*****g sight of her. And if she kept up that little girl, I'm too timid for my own skin s**t; there was a safe bet that my d**k will talk me into having her under me in sixty seconds flat.
That's my thing; I'm a dominant f**k. That's one of the reasons Marion and I were a bad bet.
I'd known it going in, but with the stress of the past few months riding my tail hard, I'd given in. It beat going on the prowl, or so I'd told myself at the time.
My grandfather had up and died on me when I least expected it. At least he'd died doing something he loved. Why the f**k he'd wanted to climb Kilimanjaro at seventy-eight years old was anybody's guess, but he was never one to listen to anyone else's advice.
So off he'd went and had a damn heart attack in the middle of the climb. I hadn't seen him the week he left, and that was a sore point for me. For all that we had our differences, the old guy was just about my favorite person in the world.
He'd wanted me to go into the family business, but I'd had other ideas. From the time I was a young man, I was fascinated with car racing, so as soon as I'd fulfilled my obligation of going to college, I'd taken off for parts unknown.
Gramps hadn't spoken to me for almost a year. That had been almost ten years ago. Now he was gone, and I missed him more than words can say.
Of course, the fucker had got his way in the end by leaving me all his worldly possessions. And since I couldn't just say f**k it and sell off the company he'd worked his whole life to build, I was here now instead of in Europe somewhere on somebody's racetrack.
I had always known we were well off; I've never known need in all my days. But to go from a millionaire to a billionaire overnight isn't as easy to take in as some may think.
It's two entirely different playing fields. I never wanted that life, was never really interested in the glitz and glamour, and I damn sure wasn't interested in sitting in some stuffy boardroom or office all day poring over papers and s**t; I'd lose my f*****g mind within a week.
We had a board of trustees, but the old codger had made it so that I had to remain stateside for at least a year and get involved.
If at the end of that year, I still wasn't interested, then the company and all its holdings would be broken down and sold off. He knew I would never do that, so basically, I was trapped.
After settling in, though, things weren't that bad, and if I played my cards right, I might still be able to do both. Maybe not on the same scale as before, but it beat giving up racing altogether.
My body was tense as I sat behind the wheel and maneuvered through traffic. I hadn't been this uncomfortable in the presence of a female since I was twelve, and I wondered at the reason for it now.