She groans. “Mr. Lockhart…”
“Don’t bother begging,” I say with an amused smirk. “Because no matter how much you beg, I’m still going to make you scream. I’ll have you wanting it so badly that you’ll lose your mind if you don’t have it.”
“Why must you tease me so much?” she whimpers, giving me puppy dog eyes.
“You don’t know how fun it is to see you squirm, your hips in the air, your body craving my touch, and your pussy quivering with the need to be filled. Those beautiful eyes of yours become glazed over with lust, and it turns me on more than you can imagine.”
“Mmm, Mr. Lockhart. You’re getting me wet already,” she purrs.
“Good,” I smirk. “Because that means you can sit down in your wet bikini while we have dinner together.”
Without another word, I get up and grab the steaks off the grill. I can tell they’re perfect. Nice and juicy and still slightly pink in the middle, just the way I like them.
“Come on,” I prompt, tilting my head in the direction of the doors. “Let’s go inside.”
She springs forward, opening the sliding glass for me.
I place the plates on the table before pulling out her chair.
She smiles graciously, and that smile is enough to make my heart flip with joy. What is it about this woman? I swear, if I weren’t so hardened and jaded, I’d say that she has me caught, hook, line and sinker.
I watch her from across the table, trying to find the answers. But there are none, and I eat, merely enjoying the silence.
As she cuts up her steak, she looks up at me, a cute expression on her face.
“So what’s new today, Mr. Lockhart?”
I chew and swallow.
“Oh, just the usual. You know, breakfast, lunch and dinner with you, as well as some quote unquote “work.””
That makes her giggle.
“Our work does blend into our play,” she acknowledges with a smile. “But don’t you have to go into the office more? It seems weird that you’re always here with me.”
I shrug, slicing off another bite of steak.
“When you’ve been at the job for as long as I have, you get to take some time off here and there. Besides, I’m still on the job. We’re working even now,” I tease. “We’re brainstorming ideas, right?”
Her musical laugh hits my ears, making my stomach flutter. But then I lean forwards.
“But tell me, Katie Kat. Were you always this successful on your own? Did you have the help of family? Friends? How did you get so independent?”
The cute expression fades, and I regret asking.
“Well, it’s funny you should ask. To be honest, I’ve never known my father. My mother says she knows who he is, and allegedly he’s some married man who gave her money to keep me a secret. You know, so his wife wouldn’t find out.” Her lips twitch into a frown that causes my heart to tighten, and I can see that this topic is painful for her. Still, she continues, speaking as if she trusts me. “I’ve tried to probe my mother for answers, but Meredith refuses to tell me his name. If you ask me, she’s forgotten who he is but just won’t admit it.”
A silence fills the dining room.
“You think so? You really think she forgot the name of the father of her child?” The thought stuns me, but then again, I live in a different world.
Katie nods while swallowing.
“Meredith has, um, problems with the bottle, I should say. Her memory is impaired, and sometimes, she can’t even remember my name even though I’m her only child. It’s that bad,” she says in a soft voice.
My heart lurches, and I don’t know what to say. The fact that this girl has surmounted such a difficult past is impressive, and my respect for her grows. Meanwhile, Katie looks down at her food and nibbles on her steak. She no longer seems hungry.
I hesitate, pondering what to do next. I want to ask more – to learn more about her – but at the same time, I don’t want to cause her unnecessary pain.
“What about your home life?” I finally break the silence after taking a swig of my beer. I keep my hand around the bottle and my eyes are focused on hers.
She bites her bottom lip, mulling over her response. “Well, it was kind of neglectful, if I’m completely honest with you.”
I raise my eyebrows in question but don’t interrupt her. I want to hear her whole story.
“Again, my mother drinks all the time, and I mean all the time. The house is constantly littered with empty bottles and beer cans. It drains our finances, to the point where sometimes, the utilities didn’t get paid and we couldn’t make rent. So I started working at a very young age just to try to buy the things we needed around the house.” Her nervous fingers tug at the tablecloth as the corners of her eyes begin to water.
