Page 8 of Penny
I shot to my feet, pushing the office chair against the shelves housing my whiskey collection, making them clatter. Looking over at the amber bottles made me want to drown myself in the burning liquid. Tendrils of need prompted me to snatch at the neck of the bottle. The promise of the comfort of just one sip enslaved me. I pulled the cork with apopand tipped it back for just one shot. Its rich oak taste, paired with a touch of sweetness, lit up my senses, drowning my whispers of self-doubt. I refused to stop until I finally needed to take a breath of air. The liquor would help me tolerate being around my brother.
The glass thudded when I slammed it down, and I raced out of the room to get cleaned up. I walked past Emily without a second glance, knowing that there was only one way I could show her off.
My bedroom smelled of tea tree, reminding me that only hours ago I’d forced her to take her first shower in God knows how long. Stripped the garbage clothes off her and placed her there to wash away the filth. I should text my maid to sanitize the shower. Better yet, to do my entire penthouse. Maybe I'd get a private shopper to restock the women’s clothes I had. I had some left here from the escorts who’d visited me. They needed to be tested often to make sure they were still high-class and not diminishing in value.
I changed quickly into black slacks and a white button-up shirt. Grabbing a sleek black dress, I ran into the bathroom and dug through the drawers for a hair tie. This would have to do.
My cell phone dinged, alerting me that someone was coming up the elevator. I hit unlock on my alarm system, releasing the front door locks on the inside and outside. The impending visit forced me to race down the steps to get the homeless woman presentable. I laughed out loud at that. She was about to wear a four-thousand-dollar dress, despite crying over a tattered piece-of-shit backpack just moments ago. She should consider herself lucky.
I reached the bottom of the stairs, noticing she hadn’t moved one inch since I’d last seen her. She was a beautiful statue, frozen in that broken, curled position, staring at the ceiling with blank, dazedeyes. Her messy long brown hair lay haphazardly across her face and chest. I tossed the hair tie at her, catching her attention.
"Tie the mop you call hair into a neat bun or something and put this on in the bathroom. It's right next to the staircase," I growled, throwing the dress that was too good for her at her feet.
She inspected the soft fabric in her hands. I noticed her puffy cheeks and swollen eyes. No amount of makeup could fix or hide the pathetic, broken look she wore. I questioned myself about how I ever could have thought her cunt was made for my cock. She wasn't even good enough to walk through my home, let alone be worthy of my pleasure. My stomach burned with the whiskey sloshing around, helping me to think clearly. I should have finished the bottle.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" I snapped, becoming impatient. My brother could walk through that door at any moment, which meant this slut needed to move. I narrowed my eyes at her, needing her to understand that when I asked her to do something, she needed to obey immediately.
She got to her feet, straightening her spine, and raising her head. Finally showing a sliver of dignity. I did like how comfortable she was being nude. It made me want to force her to never wear clothes when we were alone. It would give me easy access to bend her over the counter and thrust inside her whenever I wanted.
No. She wouldn't be here long, and I couldn't start conjuring up fantasies about us.
Her round ass jiggled as she walked, pleading for a hard spanking. Who was I to deny her ass of this? Her squeal and jump were cute, almost like a pet mouse, when my hand slapped her bare skin.
The thudding knock of my brother’s arrival grabbed my attention at the same moment the bathroom door clicked closed. Straightening my collar, I twisted the knob and greeted him with a fake smile.
"Welcome, brother." I grinned, hiding my annoyance at his attire.
He wore something my father would wear—gray pants, a white shirt, and a leather jacket. The thought process behind it, I had to admit, was smooth. He wanted to be the man in the room who didn't stand out. You saw a man in a four-thousand-dollar suit? You knew he had money. The man in baggy pants and a white shirt would either be able to beat your ass or was a punk. The guy in casual attire wearing a jacket would be hidden among the crowd, lurking in the shadows to strike when you least expected it.
I only slightly followed that rule. My normal attire was long-sleeved button-up shirts, clean, crisp pants, and a black baseball hat. You couldn't blame me for wanting to look sharp. At least I made it casual with a hat.
"Your house smells different," Liam pointed out, scrunching his nose in disgust. I would need to get that housekeeper in here sooner rather than later.
"You here to check on me? Or go over paperwork?" I snapped.
The whiskey churned in my gut, reminding me that I’d had more than one shot. Penny needed to hurry up. Changing didn't take that long.
"Paperwork," he answered, tilting his head to the side to inspect me. My mood soured at his need to examine me. Little brothers needed to learn their place. "Have you been drinking?" he asked. There it was—his patronizing desire to be the do-gooder of the family.
The bathroom door clicked open, saving me from acknowledging that question. Penny stepped out of the bathroom, slowly making her way toward us. A slit ran up her leg, accentuating the curve of her hips. Heat raced up my spine, and I stole a glance at my brother. He took her in, lingering on her nipples, which showed through the thin fabric. Lust pooled in his features. A look very similar to mine, but this desire belonged to me. She was my possession to long for and care for. I couldn’t have her wanting to go home with him. I wouldn't let it happen.
She wasmine.
Her straightened shoulders and raised chin were a lie. I could hear the softness of her steps and timid breath with every step she took toward me. Her shaky eyes couldn't hide from me. We made her nervous, and the thought filled me with adrenaline.
"Liam, this is Penny," I announced, introducing them with her made-up name. Emily was mine, and that name was my gift that I didn't want to share.
"Pleasure to meet you," Liam greeted, lifting the back of her hand to his lips.
I rolled my eyes, knowing his act for getting the girls to trust him. Step one, be a kiss ass. Step two, pretend you care. Step three, make them fall for him. Step four, which was the final step, break their heart. The women would confide in him, and he would, in turn, use their secrets against them.
I looked at him, wishing my glare would cut off the hand touching her. Emily shakily looked between us, examining him, then me. Her chest rose and fell quicker as she put two and two together. Her mouth parted and then closed. Probably for the best. She didn’t audibly acknowledge that we were identical twins.
“It’s nice to meet you as well.” She nodded, pulling her hand away from him and subtly wiping it off on her dress.
I smirked, loving her random acts of strength. It would make destroying her even more fun.
“Will Penny be your date tomorrow for dinner?” Liam asked, smiling at her like I wasn’t here.
