I'm supposed to be running an internationalcompany not sweeping up after some poor woman." We're not poor," Adriana lectured me, I suppose not liking the thoughtof me looking down on her family."By my standards..."I started but was interrupted."Your standards? You're the family maid," Adriana said with a laugh."I'm not a maid!" Really?" Really!" Look at that outfit you're wearing." So?" What does it tell you?" That your grandmother made me dress up like a maid," I replied."No. This is not a game. My mother made it very clear to us that wecan't let anyone think that you're a person of interest. We've told allthe neighbors that my mother hired you to help take care of her elderlyparents..." But..." This is for your own good. You have to accept it that we're treatingyou like this because we want to keep you safe." Her snickering tells me otherwise."Adriana inquired why her grandmother laughed at me. My truthfullyresponse only brought laughter in response before Adriana told me. Not exactly the most seductive way to present what was barely there.Anton took my silence for consent and pulled the sweater over my head, spilling my hair over my shoulders. Imagining the mess I might be presenting at that moment, frizzled hair and all, I kept my gaze down, staring at the buckle of his belt. The first man that had ever touched me intimately was rough, he tugged and squeezed on my nipples and commented that I was way too sensitive when I complained he was hurting me. The second was too passive and lingered there long enough to be allowed to enter me. I wondered what Anton would be, large hands and tattoos, and how many bodies have his hands roamed over.I suddenly felt even plainer, acutely aware of all my insecurities and deficiencies. Sensing I was no longer there, Anton pulled my chin up. Holding my gaze, he slowly lowered his head, murmuring, “Statuesque,” before his lips wrapped around my nipple over the thick material. The breath caught in my throat and I.
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