James’s P. O. V.
Seriously. God is testing my patience.
What I saw today… I can’t get it out of my head.
Selena. She was standing in front of me in nothing but a black bra. Her soft, perfect tits, begging me to free them. I swear they are made to fit in my hands. I wanted to grab them, feel their softness, and savour every inch of her.
But I can’t.
She’s forbidden to me.
And yet, her slim, curvy waist, and those hips that sway like they’re designed to drive me mad-God, her body is perfection. My dick hardens at the thought of her and twists painfully in my pants.
Right now, all I want is to rush to her and ram myself deep into her.
Just stop it, James. Stop thinking about her like that.
No matter how much I try, I can’t take the image of her half-naked body out of my head as I lie down on my bed. Her flushed cheeks when she saw me… everything about her is burned into my mind.
Damn! She is driving me insane.
I run my hand through my hair, frustrated, before picking up my phone and staring at the one picture of her I took it from the file of her information.
I run my fingers over the screen, tracing her face.
Why does she have to be Denver’s daughter?
If she weren’t…
If she weren’t Denver’s daughter, I wouldn’t have controlled my desire. I would have her trembling beneath me, screaming my name, her body writhing in pleasure as I fuck her relentlessly until she becomes sore and can’t able to walk properly for days.
I squeeze my eyes shut, so damn annoyed. This isn’t right. I can’t think like this, not about her.
But then her voice echoes in my head. ‘What are you doing here, Mr. Luther?’
The way she stammered and the way her cheeks turned pink as she tried to cover herself made her look so adorably vulnerable. Yet there was something else in her eyes-the same forbidden hunger which I have for her.
It gives me some satisfaction knowing that she also desires me as much as I desire her. I’m not the only one who’s controlling himself; she’s doing the same.
Fuck! This turns me on.
I shift uncomfortably, my erection going harder.
God help me.
How the hell am I supposed to spend an entire month with her under my roof, knowing I can’t touch her?
But what’s worse?
She also doesn’t want me to hold back.
***
Selena’s P. O. V.
In the morning, I wake up calling out for Lily.
As I sit up on the bed and look around, I realise that I’m not in my room. I’m in Mr Luther’s mansion-The Mr Hottie who is driving me crazy and who saw me half-naked in his room last night.
God! How am I going to face him?
A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. Throwing my blanket, I climb down the bed.
When I open the door, I find three maids standing there.
One of them asks, “Ma’am, what would you like for breakfast?”
“I’m running late for college. Just make some sandwiches, please. Thank you,” I reply, and she hurries off.
As the other two maids don’t leave, I raise my brows at them.
“I’m here to arrange your clothes in the wardrobe, ma’am,” one says.
“And I’m here to clean the room,” the other adds, standing with a trolley, which I notice now.
Although I’m the daughter of a rich businessman, I’m habitual in doing my work. Lily has always been my helping hand, and I’ve never really liked having strangers do things for me.
“It’s okay. I’ll arrange my clothes and clean the room myself. You can go,” I say politely, giving them a small smile.
The maids exchange a glance before one of them responds, “Ma’am, we can’t leave without completing our work. Sir has given strict orders to ensure you’re comfortable and well taken care of.”
I notice a flicker of fear in their eyes. Is James really that intimidating? Why are they so scared of him?
“Alright,” I agree reluctantly, stepping aside to let them in.
Leaving them to do their tasks, I head into the bathroom to freshen up.
After showering, I step out and find one of the maids standing by with a glass of juice, waiting for me like I’m some kind of queen.
What the fuck is happening? I’m not used to this level of attention, and honestly, it feels overwhelming.
“Thank you.” I take the glass from her and force a polite smile.
“Mam, your breakfast is ready in the dining area,” she informs me before scurrying out of the room, leaving me alone.
I sigh, setting the juice down on the nightstand before going to the closet to pick out an outfit for college.
***
When I’m ready for college, I head downstairs, hoping to get in and out without seeing James.
Just thinking about him makes me nervous. Every time he’s around, his presence drives me insane and burns my body with desires.
I pray silently as I approach the dining area. Please, God, let him still be in his room.
I let out a small sigh of relief when I don’t see him around. As I sit down at the table, a maid serves me the sandwiches.
I take a bite, feeling somewhat at ease, but the moment doesn’t last long. My heart skips a beat as James walks into the room shirtless.
Oh God, why is he shirtless?
My breath becomes heavy as my eyes scan every inch of him-his tanned, sweaty skin and his perfect abs. He must’ve just finished his workout. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to control the heat pooling between them at the sight of him.
As he walks right up to me and stops just in front of where I’m seated, my heart skips a beat.
“Morning, Selena.” His deep, husky voice sends a direct twitch to my core, making me squeeze my thighs harder.
Damn! Why does he have such an effect on me?
I swallow hard, trying to compose myself. “Morning, Mr. Luther.” I keep my eyes focused on my plate, trying not to ogle his body.
“Hope you’re comfortable here.”
Comfortable? Yeah, right. How am I supposed to be comfortable when you’re walking around half-naked, looking like a goddamn Greek statue?
“Yes, I’m very comfortable, Mr. Luther,” I lie, giving him a small smile.
“Good. Your dad trusts me to protect you, so don’t leave the house without informing me. My men will accompany you everywhere.” He instructs me in a firm tone.
I want to argue with him that I’m not a kid who has to follow his instructions, but I’m not in the right state to do so. So I just nod.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, trying to focus on anything but his sweaty chest.
He gives me a satisfied nod before turning to leave.
The moment he’s gone, I take a deep breath. My body still feels hot, and I wipe the light sheen of sweat forming on my forehead.
As his perfect physique crosses my mind, I can’t stop myself from fantasising about touching him, running my hands over those sculpted muscles, or pressing my lips against his skin.
No man has ever affected me the way James does. Why does he have to be my dad’s friend?
I take a bite of my sandwich, but my appetite is gone. All I can think about is him-his body, his voice, and the way he looks at me.
God, how am I going to survive this?
***