Under His Ink Page 18

  Every glance, every brushed touch, every word had me on edge. The heat behind his gaze should have sent me running from the room, but it didn’t. It wasn’t like the leering of someone like Roy. Rhys stared at me like he wanted to possess me, not use me. His gaze held the promise of things I’d never experienced before, and my mouth watered to try them all. I had never had someone look at me like that. Like I was someone they couldn’t wait to get their hands on. Like someone they needed to be close to.

  I just didn’t know how long it would last. Was I just a passing infatuation? Did he sleep with all the other nannies? Look at them like he looked at me? I wouldn’t believe that I was someone so special that it made him sit up and take notice. So why did I want to be near him when he had the power to destroy me with a word. I guess I hadn’t yet learned my lesson about flying too close to the sun.

  I’d been programmed to be hurt. People don’t last, and he’s so far out of my league it’s not even comprehensible. Regardless, if I wanted to do this job right, I shouldn’t start it out by sleeping with my boss. But the temptation was real and raw, pounding in my chest like a signal drum of impending war. A war of the wills, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to win.

  We finished the tour when he showed me to the kitchen.

  “Wine?” he said, moving behind the counter.

  “Sure,” I said, following him.

  “No, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the living room.

  I watched him in the reflection in the glass, the city lights surrounding him, making him seem even more like a mirage. He moved efficiently around the kitchen, opening, and closing cabinets and drawers. He knew where everything was. I imagined he’d have a staff crawling all over this place, taking care of his every whim but other than the guy who drove us to the building, I hadn’t seen anyone else in the apartment. Every so often he caught my eye in the reflection and held me pinned there, in his skin-tingling gaze, until he decided to break the connection. His choice, every time. Each time he looked away I had to remember to breathe again. Remember my name. His gaze lingered, and it was like a fiery embrace wrapped around me, my skin singed by his vision.

  “Here you go,” he said, holding out a glass of chardonnay. He hadn’t even asked what I liked. How did he know I hated red? My hand wrapped around the cool, smooth glass, momentarily brushing against his, and that energy that pulsed between us remained unspoken, but I knew he felt it.

  I turned and mumbled a “Thank you.” Keep it together, Mel. Keep it together.

  “What do you think?” he asked, walking over to the couches and sitting, stretching long legs out in front of him, and his arm out over the back. He was sin, wrapped in a mixture of masculinity and refinement. How many other women found themselves treading water in the wake of his power?

  “This place is amazing,” I said, taking a gulp of my wine and sitting in a chair across from him. My leg nervously bounced up and down and some of the wine sloshed onto my hand.

  “It serves its purpose. And about the job? You start tonight.” he said, his eyes on me as he tipped his crystal tumbler back, sipping the dark amber liquid inside.

  “I…I still think you’re making a mistake. I don’t think I’m going to be able to give Esme what she needs,” I said, apparently trying to talk myself into homelessness. The urge to say yes sat on the tip of my tongue, but every time I looked at him I forgot my name, forgot to breathe, and forgot how to talk. And I knew this would send me down a path from which, I might never recover, a path where the world was spread out for me on a platter and then snatched away. I knew where I’d end up. More bruised, battered and even more shattered than when I started.

  “Esme has the best teachers, tutors and other specialists she could ever need. What she doesn’t have is someone she feels comfortable enough to talk to, and be as free with as I’ve seen her be with you. For now, that’s all she needs,” he said, leaning forward.

  “There are some things in my past,” I said, taking a sip of wine.

  “I know. I’ve already read your file. There’s nothing in there that concerns me.”

  “But—” I said, trying to decide how I felt about that. He’d already had me researched, dissected, and analyzed. It made sense, a man like him didn’t make an offer like his, to come live in his house, without vetting someone first. I wondered how deep that research went. Did he know everything about my past?

  “There is nothing in there that concerns me, Melanie. Don’t worry so much. And I took the liberty of calling the diner. You won’t be going back there,” he said, taking another drink like he hadn’t just taken away the steadiest thing I had in my life.

  “What the hell? I didn’t say I’d take the job. I didn’t say I wanted to quit the diner,” I said, jumping up. It wasn’t his place to interfere in my life like that.

  “You didn’t have to. It’s not like you’ll have the time, if you’re going to be with Esme.” I took a deep breath. It was a shitty job, but it was still the only job I had. I rubbed my hand against my temple. This was insane. He was insane. Swirling his drink around in his glass like he didn’t have a care in the world, and he didn’t, did he? He held the power, and I was fucked, and not even in the way I’d like to be. What choice did I have now? I didn’t have a place to live, a job or any money.

  For now. This was a temporary situation. I could handle him—for now. Keep him at bay—for now. At least knowing I was on shifting ground would make it easier to prepare for what happened once everything fell out from under me. Maybe I’d be able to grab onto the ledge when the time came, and save myself. I cleared my throat. Better get down to business if I was walking into this ring of fire.

  “How much does this job pay?” I plopped down in my seat, resting my elbows on my knees. I took a sip of my wine to draw his attention away from my shaky hands. Rhys stared at me for a few seconds, an assessing look that made my stomach clench. He grabbed a piece of paper and pen from the coffee table, his hand flying across the notepad.

  He got up and stood in front of me, my eyes level with his shining belt buckle. He held out the piece of paper between two of his fingers. He flicked them up and down, waiting for me to take the paper, and I imagined those two fingers inside of me doing the same exact thing. My pussy throbbed as I glanced up at him and took the paper from his hand, careful not to touch hm. I unfolded it and choked on the sip of wine I had in my mouth. The wine burned on its way down the wrong pipe as I hacked and coughed. Rhys took the glass of wine from my hand and gently patted me on the back.

  “Per month,” I wheezed, as he thumped my back.

  “Per week,” he said, chuckling. I’m sure I looked like I was having a fit. He handed my glass back and I chugged the contents. This could change my life. Even if I only stayed for a few months, I could finally catch the break I’d always needed to do things with my life. Maybe go to college, find a nice place to live. Living a life, instead of running from one. Forever caught in the trap I’d been stuck in since I was born.

  “Okay. I’ll take it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, gazing up at him. He took a step closer, still towering over me, the hungry look back in his eyes, causing the wings of hundreds of butterflies to go crazy in my stomach. I licked my suddenly dry lips. He briefly closed his eyes, tipping his head back.

  “Thank you, Melanie. You’ve made me very happy,” he said, his hand coming up, meeting the side of my face. I hated how making him ‘very happy’ made me very tingly inside. I wanted him happy. I resisted the urge to nod my head like a good little girl. He’d come into my life, turning it upside down and disrupting the sliver of normalcy I’d created, but I wanted his approval. I felt it deep down, like his existence wasn’t as perfect as I’d imagined. Every so often I caught a glimpse of him, the real him. His rawness didn’t come from a life of perfection. He had cracks and he let me see every single one.

  His hand hovered an inch from my skin and I ached to rest my cheek against his palm. To savor his hands on me, in a
way beyond a polite interaction. Then he dropped his hand completely, holding it out for me to shake. I slid my hand into his and the second our skin touched I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble. Because the energy that pulsed between us wasn’t something I could deny for long, and from the look in his eyes, I don’t think he wanted to, either. It was a force that threatened to consume me.

  I’d been through so much shit in my life, I was ready to finally make a choice about which ledge I leapt from. I’d been pushed off a cliff so many times before I even had my footing. This time I knew exactly where I stood—at least I hoped I did. I could already tell the fall from Rhys’ cliff would hurt more than most. It would be from so much higher than I’d ever dreamed of diving, but I knew no matter what happened, my life would never be the same.

  Mr. Control is available now and FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

  You can also get the Extended Epilogue if you missed it the first time around!

  Also by Maya Hughes

  Misters

  Mr. Control - Single Dad Romance

  Mr. Ruin - A Revenge Romance

  Under His Series - Mob Romance

  Under His Ink - Second Chance

  Breaking Free Series

  Blinded - Second Chance Secret Baby Romance

  Mixed - Enemies to Lovers Romance

  Served - Enemies to Lovers Romance

  Rocked - Rockstar Romance

  Standalone

  Passion on the Pitch - Sports Romance

  Connect with Maya

  Sign up for my newsletter to get exclusive bonus content, ARC opportunities, sneak peeks, new release alerts and to find out just what I’m books are coming up next.

  Join my reader group for teasers, giveaways and more!

  Follow my Amazon author page for new release alerts!

  Follow me on Instagram, where I try and fail to take pretty pictures!

  Follow me on Twitter, just because :)

  I’d love to hear from you! Drop me a line anytime :)

  https://www.mayahughes.com/

  maya@mayahughes.com