The Interview (The Whittingtons, #1)

by Donna Alam

Women are fickle, you know. And men are idiots. ~ Marc Levy

amen

“Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly?” His dark chuckle weaves its spell around me when I should feel embarrassed for my ridiculousness. “I won’t flatter you like the spider,” he murmurs, “but I might let you come when I eat you later.”

WHAT

Warmth floods between my legs, and I’m pretty sure I whimper. “Such a pretty sound.” I feel the loss of his heat immediately as he leans away again. “Hurry now. Show Daddy what he wants.”

no hello, how are you??? this is pagE NINE

“I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

My feminist membership card will absolutely be revoked once they discover that Daddy and the patriarchy own my ass.

same

“That’s it,” Whit encourages, and oh my God, I know I shouldn’t be turned on by his praise, but I am. “You’re such a good little slut for me.”

PAGE NINE YALL ONLY PAGE NINE

“Behave yourself.”

“They’re all upwardly mobile types around here. DINKs,” she says as though the word tastes bad. “Double income, no kids,”

the life

“What are you doing?” “Seeing if your fingers had all fallen off. Your laptop has a print button, right? “Don’t be a smart arse.” “Then stop staring at it.” “What did you say?” “I said you started it.” I give my head a shake. I must be fucking losing my marbles. “The report?” I repeat.

HAHAHA

“I want you so badly,” he whispers, sweeping back and sucking on my bottom lip. “You make my life impossible.”

thE LUST

“But you’re thinking about it.” I huff an unhappy chuckle. “God knows you’re not the only one. I would drown myself in you, Amelia. Gorge on you until only your sighs remain.”

drown myself in you gahhhh

“Close your mouth.” I lean closer still. My next words are a sultry purr at her ear. “Unless you want me to put something in it.”

AH

“Amelia.” “You love making a warning out of my name, don’t you?”

“Your words, Amelia. I want to hear them.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” “Yes. I’ll try to be good for you.” “Next time, try that with a little sincerity.”

FOLLLLDDDDDD

“Your trust undoes me.”

THIS.

“People who get out of bed with a smile on their face are to be treated with suspicion.”

“You sure you’re not expecting more people?” I ask as I put the contents of the second box on a platter. “You got me. Because I don’t do this very often, I thought I’d invite all the women I’ve slept with this year over for brunch.”

LOL

“Don’t stop until Daddy tells you to,”

SIR

“You look like you’re having a very intense conversation with yourself.”

me 24/7

“You have a tree house.” Is it weird that I know she’s smiling? “Technically, it’s a tree fort. Tree house was far too emasculating for our young minds.” “Except you have sisters.” “It became a house when they got their hands on it. They even hung curtains.” “The height of domesticity,” she teases.

“Daddy is a mindset, darling. It doesn’t come with age restrictions.”

“Yes, no. All of it. Whit, you make me want to do things I’ve never even thought of. You turn me on so much. I’m not just aroused with you, but I’m safe. I know I can do or say what I think and feel, and—” He’d pressed his finger to my lips. “Don’t date anyone else,” he’d said softly. “Just be with me. I promise not to fall in love with you.”

he a lying bastard

“I have your jacket, so your phone and wallet are intact.” She smiles brightly. “Also, Mimi just had a Mr. Darcy moment.” With her back turned to the woman in question, she mouths, “You’re welcome.” Like I needed the help.

UGH

“It costs nothing to be nice.” Nothing. Just my heart.

We stand for a while, each of us lost to our own thoughts as our eyes scan the many ways to say I love you. The wall speaks of language. Je t’aime. Te amo. Rakastan sinua. Aroha i a koutou. But the language of love is more than words. As we stand, holding hands, I think of Whit and the many ways he shows affection. His love. I hope his family know how lucky they are to have him looking after them. I think of how he’d stepped up to fill his father’s shoes when so many men in his place would’ve been consumed with their own grief. I think of the time he devotes and how his loved one’s needs are his priority. I think of his thoughtfulness, and I think about the person he is.

“I bet you feel like you’ve created a monster, don’t you?” “No. We’ve created something quite beautiful.”

“You’re supposed to tell me not to get too excited, that it’s only on loan.” I shake my head. “Richard Gere must be a cheapskate.” “Edward Lewis,” she says softly. “That was his character’s name.” “Well, Amelia Valente,” I murmur, bringing my gaze level with hers. “This is for you even though it feels a little like trying to gild a lily.” “Edward Lewis has nothing on you,” she says as her lips brush mine, the pass as soft as silk.

the fact that pretty woman is her fav movie just makes me happy

“It’s so beautiful.” “Just like you.”

simp

“I had plans. Dinner. Tickets to the opera.” “Just like Pretty Woman,” she breathes, willing me on with her body. “You’re not pretty, my darling. You’re fucking stunning.”

I want her with a strength that frightens me. I want to keep her, bind her to me. I want to make her happy. Be her mornings and her evenings. Her friend and her lover, her shield and her confidant. I love her so much I want to keep her forever.

down BAD

“This,” I say, laying my palm over her heart. “Your heart is mine, Amelia. I know you don’t want to admit it, but I see it in your eyes every time you look at me.”