Sleeping With the Help (Toyboy Lover) by Ava Rush Read Free Book Online Page A

sleep.
    5AM. I threw back the covers and stepped onto the cold floor, the chill causing me to shiver. Slippers had been on my To-Buy list for months; I'd been putting it off. Choosing the right slippers wasn't a task to be taken lightly. Much harder than choosing my next pair of killer heels.
    My throat felt scratchy; dry. I reached for a satin dressing gown and wrapped it snugly around my shivering body. Heading downstairs I tiptoed through the darkness so as not to wake my sleeping guests. The house hadn't felt this full, this lived-in, since my parents had stayed for two months while their house was being renovated.
    I crept past the living room and into the kitchen, poured myself some grapefruit juice, and regretted its purchase the second the glass touched my lips. Whose stupid idea was it to turn such a sour fruit into juice? Better still, what idiot would actually buy it?
    Swallowing it down, trying my best not to taste it, only allowing it to do its job of quenching my thirst, I turned to the door. The glass nearly slipped out of my hand when I spotted Eduardo standing in the doorway.
    “Jesus, you scared me half to death.”
    His brow furrowed, making him look more bad-tempered than usual. It could have been because he'd just woken up.
    It didn't take long for my initial shock to vanish and be replaced by something completely different; something carnal. It was as though a sleeping lion awoke inside me as I noticed him for the first time, taking in his full form. Bandages covered the bottom half of his torso, wrapped tightly, while the top of it was bare, tinged with colorful bruises. His dark nipples were pert, helped no doubt by the chill in the air. His chest seemed to be made of stone; I had to restrain myself from diving at him and running my hands over it, just to see if it was as solid as it looked. His filthy black jeans sagged; the top button was undone, revealing his white boxers underneath.
    “Where's my sister?” He held onto the door frame for support, his biceps bulging, contracting.
    I cast my eyes in another direction, afraid of the filthy thoughts running through my mind with him in my vision. “She, she's asleep, in the guest room.” I spoke without looking at him.
    I felt him advance slowly into the room. “Why didn't you send us home?”
    “You were sleeping and the doctor advised I leave you that way. You were in no state to move.”
    “I'm fine,” he insisted, his voice gruff.
    My eyes returned to him. I tutted in disbelief. “Really? You could barely stand up when we got you here.”
    “She never should have called you. Just another chance for you to play the heroine.”
    “Are you serious?” I slammed my glass onto the counter. “You get yourself beaten up, I leave my home in the middle of the night to come save your ass, and all you can do is condemn me for it?”
    “You want a medal? Applause? You fired me, what else was I supposed to do for money?”
    I rolled my eyes. “Don't you dare put this on me. You were being an ungrateful... son of a–”
    “We both know you got rid of me because I saw you naked.” He moved further into the room, closer to me.
    My blush didn't develop out of embarrassment alone; anger made a much bigger contribution to it.
    “That's, that's not even remotely true.”
    He edged closer still, his movements slow, measured, as though anything quicker would hurt. The back of my foot hit the refrigerator as I edged backwards. There was nowhere for me to go – I was all out of backwards.
    His eyes sparkled, not with anger but with something else. Something mischievous. Something lascivious.
    “It got to you that I saw everything. And I mean everything ... right down to that little boomerang birthmark on your left thigh.”
    So much for me hoping that his two second preview hadn't been enough to take everything in.
    “I'm going back to bed, and you should too. You need your rest.” It was my way of politely telling him to get out of my face before I