Trevor quit sucking, but his finger remained inside her. “She’ll be there in just a moment, Arnold.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “What if he’d come in?”

Trevor withdrew his finger and reclined, resting his head against the back of the sofa. Keeping both hands clamped on her hips, his cock jutted between them. “He’d have something to put in his wank bank, I suppose.”

With a snarl, Allie pushed out of his arms and scrambled off him as she searched for her bra. She found it lying halfway under the sofa and slipped into it. The thong was ripped and useless.

She glanced down at her feet and realized she was still wearing her shoes. How did she not know that? Grabbing her dress, she hastily shimmied into it, reaching around to zip it up in the back.

Trevor stood and watched her silently as he pulled on his clothes. He picked up her thong and tucked it into his pocket. “Come here,” he said. Without waiting for her to comply, he pulled her to him. “Your hair is a mess.” He combed his fingers through it, tugging at a few tangles. “There.”

On shaky legs, Allie walked to the door and opened it. Arnold had left the phone on a silver charger in front of the door. She glanced up and down the hallway, but it was empty. Relief flooded her. Arnold probably knew what they’d been doing, but Allie didn’t think she could face him right now.

Bending down, she picked up the phone and hit the talk button. “Dad?”

“Sorry to bother you, Al.” She could hear the weariness in his voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Monica came home. Just thought you’d like to know.”

Allie ran a hand through her hair and winced. Trevor hadn’t gotten out all of the tangles. “Where the hell has she been?”

“She’s got a boyfriend, Brad something. Truth is, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want her seeing this guy, but I want to give her a safe place to come home to.”

“But you have to think about Brynn,” she said. “Monica can’t keep treating the house like it’s a hotel. They both need stability and consequences.” And Allie’s leaving hadn’t helped in either department. She turned around and found Trevor listening to every word, an indefinable look on his face. “Listen, Dad, I’ll come over tomorrow morning and we’ll talk about it. Okay?”

“Sure. Night, Al.”

She clicked the off button and let her eyes drift toward Trevor’s crotch, allowed herself to stare for an instant at his still-hard dick. She had to admit, it was an impressive specimen.

“Your family drama is becoming quite tedious, Miss Campbell.”

She walked to the side table and placed the phone next to the cigar box. The man had fingered her twice now, and he couldn’t call her by her first name? “It’s been tedious for a long time, Mr. Blake.”

He narrowed his eyes at that. “How long will you be gone tomorrow morning?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He strode toward her, and her heart stopped, waiting to see what he might do. But he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He walked right past her. “Good night, Miss Campbell,” he said as he left the room.

She stared at the closed door, reeling from the rejection. They’d almost had sex and that was it? Good fucking night, Miss Campbell?

The desire was gone now, making Allie feel restless. And angry. Her father was dealing with all this Monica crap, and she was busy giving Trevor a handy. And he seemed completely blasé about the whole thing.

She rubbed her forehead. Well, of course he was unaffected by it. He probably did this type of thing all the time. Hooked up with people. Kept mistresses.

He was on a different sexual page, and she needed to catch up fast. She had a feeling if she didn’t, she wouldn’t walk away from this mess with her heart in one piece.

***

The next morning, Trevor was seated at the table when Allie stepped into the breakfast room. She wore a pink dress, and it looked pretty on her, but he noted the dark circles beneath her eyes. Apparently she hadn’t been able to sleep either. “Good morning, Miss Campbell.” The words came out as a growl.

Allie frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

He raised his brow. “I didn’t get laid last night.” At first, he’d been intent on punishing her for standing him up. But when he’d seen the nervousness in her eyes, when she’d asked for a safe word, all thoughts of punishment disappeared. Instead, he found himself seducing her. And she had been so sweetly enthusiastic, ripping at his shirt, asking for his touch, that all he’d wanted to do was sink inside her. He wanted to satisfy her every desire. Until Arnold’s bloody intrusion. Cock blocked by his own butler.

After he’d left her, he swam laps in the pool for over an hour and still had a raging hard-on. In fact, his cock was rock hard when he woke up this morning. Getting all dressed up with no place to go made him pissy.

Allie rolled her eyes. “Yes, because your dick is always the priority.” She took a sip of coffee.

“Since it’s why you’re here, Miss Campbell, my dick is the only thing that should concern you.”

She set down her cup and picked up a fork. “Believe it or not, Mr. Blake, my family trumps you and your little you.” She pointed her fork toward his lap. “Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

He clenched his jaw at the Mr. Blake reference. “Yes, well, that is unacceptable.” He passed her the small pitcher of syrup for her pancakes. “And since you and your family cannot seem to solve your own little crises, I’ll be accompanying you today.”

***

During the forty-minute drive, Trevor checked his email while Allie ignored him—wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t speak to him. Other than telling him to keep his “lip zipped” around her family. He pretended like her silence didn’t bother him.

She was angry, of course. And she’d protested his presence in her family business until she finally realized her arguments wouldn’t work. And while he hadn’t known her long, he hated it when she shut him out.

When Simmons pulled the limo up to the crumbling driveway of the Campbell home, Trevor scanned the cracked front steps and the peeling, faded paint, marveling at its shabbiness. This was what all the fuss was over, this tiny, rundown house? Had it been like this when the mother was well, or had it gone downhill with her health?

Trevor followed Allie to the front door, and she gave him a warning look over her shoulder before walking inside. The interior was as decrepit as the exterior. The furniture was old and worn, a faded blue blanket nearly covered a tear on the sofa. Stuffing spilled out of the ripped, faux leather chair.

“I’m home,” Allie called.

Her father, Brian, whom he had met on three previous occasions, stepped out of the kitchen with a tired smile. “Hey, Al.” But as soon as he caught sight of Trevor, the smile dropped. “Oh, Mr. Blake. Didn’t know you were coming too.”

Trevor held out his hand. “Sorry for the imposition. Good to see you again, Mr. Campbell.”

Allie’s father nodded and shook hands. “Call me Brian. And thanks for giving Allie a job. I’m very grateful.”

Trevor glanced at Allie, saw her assume a phony smile. He could now tell the difference from the real thing, and the smile she wore was as fake as the leather on the ripped chair.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Blake,” she said.

“Thank you, Miss Campbell.” Trevor sat and crossed his legs. “Just ignore me.” He waved one hand.

“Dad, where’s Monica?”

Brian shrugged. “Still in bed. She walked in last night like nothing was wrong and made herself a sandwich. Said she’d been with her boyfriend. I don’t know who he is or what he does.” He blew out a breath.

Allie stalked down the hall, her arms swinging at her sides like a cadet on parade. “Monica, get your sorry ass out of bed. Hey, Brynn.” The house had thin walls and he heard everything as if he were in the same room.