The Mentor (Necessary Lies Book 1) by Alison Ryan Read Free Book Online Page A

the door and tried to creep down the hall discreetly, but my Tory Burch flat got caught on the Persian carpet runner in the hallway, causing me to trip and catch myself against the wall. It was a loud sound, one that he couldn’t have missed, despite his music, and I walked as quickly down the hallway as I could, not looking back when I heard his door open fully.
    “Camilla?” he called down to me. “Do you need something?”
    “No,” I said over my shoulder. “Just looking for the restroom. I’m going to eat dinner now.”
    I was completely mortified.

Eight
     
    When I reached the kitchen I could hear the microwave beeping at me. My Lean Cuisine was done, but I was no longer hungry. I opened and closed the door of the appliance to stop the beeping and then hightailed it back upstairs to my bedroom. Where, if I could help it, I would never leave again.
    I mean, good Lord. He had to know I’d seen him. And he wasn’t stupid, there was no reason for me to be at the end of the hallway. So now he probably thought I was a complete freak, spying on him. I couldn’t face him now, maybe ever. Especially knowing what I knew about him. I’d seen the man naked.
    And I had loved every single part of it.
    I clutched one of my pillows to my chest as I lay back on my bed. My sadness was gone for a moment, replaced by lusty thoughts. I was ashamed to admit that, but I couldn’t help it. I rationalized it away as some sort of a coping mechanism. My psych professor would be proud.
    I’d only been with a few guys. I’d lost my virginity my senior year of boarding school to a guy on the debate team. We were away at a meet, and someone had snuck in cheap vodka. I drank entirely too much, lowering my inhibitions, but I’d given full consent. The sex had been awful and I could never look or talk to the boy again. I barely even remembered him. College had been just the normal hook ups, guys in my dorm, guys I met at the very few parties I attended. None of it was fantastic, but it was fun enough. Sex was mostly just something I did when I was bored, as terrible as that is to admit. It was nothing mind-blowing, and I kind of didn’t get the hype around it.
    But no one I had ever been with looked like Nolan Weston. I couldn’t help but imagine what being in his bed would be like. Something altogether different from a fumbling 20 year old guy. Nolan was a man . Older, worldly. Experienced. In life, in work… I was sure that had to translate to the bedroom.
    I sat up, suddenly angry with myself. Why was I even thinking about this? Nolan worked for my father. He’d kept his death from me. He was the enemy, as far as I was concerned. Someone not to be trusted. Especially with my body.
    Even if he’d wanted it, which I was sure he didn’t.
    Still. It couldn’t hurt to fantasize. And I needed a distraction.
    I lay back on the bed. I allowed my hands to wander down my torso and underneath my yoga pants. I needed to escape into this fantasy.
    So I did. For the better part of an hour.
     
    ********
     
    I finally got the nerve to wander down to the kitchen later in the evening. I prayed Nolan wasn’t down there; that he’d retreated to his room.
    But no such luck. Nolan was sitting at the island, eating a bowl of cereal, scrolling through his tablet.
    “Cereal? For dinner?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t sense the anxiety in my voice.
    “Cereal is good all times of the day,” he replied, not looking up from his iPad. “Did you need something earlier? You ran down the hallway like you were being chased.”
    I could feel my face turning red, “No. Like I said, I was looking for a restroom.”
    “Isn’t there one off your bedroom?” he asked, looking up at me now, his hazel eyes fixed on me.
    “I was downstairs. I’m still finding my way around the house. Why do I need to explain this to you?” I asked, agitated. “What do you care?”
    “Just asking,” he said, looking back down at his iPad. “It stopped snowing. But