Submitting To My Stepbrothers novel Chapter 84

13: Lia.

I’m trying really hard to focus on organizing my class schedule,

but gifts keep arriving.

It has been a week since my first time with Tristan. Since then,

we’ve been meeting at the suite every night at nine o’clock…and I’ve never been so happy. So cherished and safe and excited to

wake up in the morning. My body is sated and sore. My heart is

blooming with new love and appreciation for the man who is

now my sugar daddy.

The man I want to be so much more.

Soon.

Every time we’re together, we become closer.

It’s not just about the raw, filthy sex. Or the fact that we’re addicting to giving and receiving pleasure from one another. No, it’s also about the quiet moments afterwards when he holds me and we talk. About silly things and important ones. Problems that arose during our day apart. Our favorite foods and places in

the city and movies.

. We are twenty–seven years apart and have different

personalities. He’s quiet, stern and I’m outgoing, bubbly. He has

13:Lu

a ten–year plan and I barely have a ten–minute plan. But we also

have a lot in common. We both love classic seventies rock and

even play songs while lying in bed together occasionally. Our

favorite place to visit is Barcelona, though we’ve never been

there together. And we both have secretly sensitive sides that

we keep to ourselves. We share them with each other,

though. Tristan doesn’t hide from me and I don’t hide from him.

Well.

Except for a couple of major secrets I’m keeping. But I don’t

plan to keep them much longer. Just a little while more. Just

until I’m confident he won’t freak out when I tell him I want to be

with him. Forever. Without being paid. Without him sending me

gift after gift.

Speaking of…

I push back from the desk in my bedroom and flit across the

cushy white rug. Sunlight glints off the Olympic–sized swimming

pool in the backyard and pours into my room, warming me in my

belted robe as I make my way out into the hallway and down the

stairs, so I can answer the front door. As recently as a year ago,

one of the maids would have answered and informed me of the

guest, but they’ve all been released because my father can no

longer afford to pay them. I can’t have Eric or any of my friends

over–they would notice the lack of help immediately. But

13:La.

compared to our staff losing their income, it’s not a serious.

hardship, so I don’t complain about not being able to entertain. Besides, if I wasn’t home alone right now, there would be a lot of questions regarding the suited messenger on my front porch holding a shopping bag from Cartier.

“Thank you,” I say, shaking my head while accepting the silver-

and–white bag. I’m smiling all the same, though, because I love

knowing Tristan is thinking about me.

Over the course of the last week, he’s showered me in jewelry

and designer clothing.

Just yesterday, a man arrived with a box containing two sets of

keys. One to a Rolls Royce and one to a penthouse apartment, both of which are waiting for me near my college campus. It’s

as though I’m right on the cusp of true adulthood and a new life

is waiting for me to step into. I don’t want to wait. If possible, I

would move out of my parents‘ house today, but I have another

month before I’m scheduled to move out. Eventually, I’ll have to

answer questions about my new lifestyle, but I’d like to delay

that as long as possible. There’s no way I want to rock the boat

when everything is so perfect. When my evenings belong to

Tristan, just like I’ve been dreaming about for so long.

I bring the Cartier bag into my bedroom and close the door,

pulling out boxes one by one and gasping over the contents. A

13: Lia

sapphire necklace, a diamond choker, an array of tennis

bracelets and cocktail rings that must have cost him a small

fortune.

I’ve just finished closing the final box when my phone rings.

It’s him. Tristan.

Just like that, my body turns to molten liquid, my erogenous

zones pulsing at the memory of how he took me last night, my

palms flat on the panoramic window, dressed in nothing but

five–inch heels while he grunted and groaned, thrusting. ferociously into me from behind, the force of his drives lifting

me off the ground.

Now, I roll over onto my back and let the silk material of my robe fall open. “Big Daddy,” I whisper into the receiver. “I miss you.”

His breath is unsteady in my ear. “I miss you, too, baby. Did you

emerald cocktail ring. I’m already wearing it.” I look down at the

Tristan works like a machine during the day, taking endless.

unusual in itself, but wanting to see me? That’s definitely