Chapter 18
Waylon gestured toward the sitting area. “Please, Ms. Morse. Have a
seat.”
Mona sat down stiffly, her hands awkwardly folded, unsure where to put
them.
Waylon opened a drawer and took out a stack of papers. “Take a look. If everything looks good, we’ll sign tonight and move forward.”
She took the documents and started reading.
It was a contract. An employment agreement.
Waylon was offering her 17 thousand dollars a month to be his personal wet nurse–on call 24 hours a day to provide breast milk.
The contract was explicit about confidentiality but vague about consequences. Mona didn’t need it spelled out. If she ever leaked this, she wouldn’t just be in trouble–she might vanish without a trace.
The further she read, the colder she felt.
Men like Waylon weren’t to be trifled with. The smart move would be to stay far away.
But if she didn’t sign. she had no protection. Tanner could ruin her on a
whim.
Between being forced by a thug and making a choice with some agency- even if it meant selling herself–Waylon was the lesser evil.
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At least she’d get paid.
Her hands trembled as she hesitated, weighing her options.
Waylon waited patiently, not pushing.
Finally, Mona picked up the pen, signed her name on the last page, and pressed her thumbprint in red ink.
“It’s done, Mr. Haley.”
He gave the contract a brief glance, then tossed it aside like it meant nothing. “You can freshen up and come to my room afterward.”
She understood what that meant: he wanted her clean.
“Yes, sir.” She bowed slightly, turned, and left.
Omar was already waiting outside the door. He smiled politely. “Ms. Morse, please wait here. I’ll have your room prepared.”
He stepped inside to speak with Waylon and returned moments later, leading her down the hall.
“Ms. Morse, given your arrangement with the master, we’ve placed you in the adjoining suite. It’s a couple’s layout–there’s a private connecting door between your room and his, for the master’s convenience.”
“Thank you, Omar.
Inside the room, a fresh silk nightgown had been laid neatly on the bed.
Mona took a shower and changed. When she stepped out, she was startled to find Waylon already sitting on the sofa, wearing a silk robe and smiling at her.
Chapter18
“Mona,” he called, switching to a more intimate tone. “Come here.”
The name sounded casual, affectionate–but Mona knew better. The more powerful someone was, the more polite they appeared. And the more polite, the more dangerous.
Still, she wlked toward him.
He reached out and gently pulled her into his lap.
As she was sitting on his thigh, face to face with that impossibly handsome man, her heart pounded like a drum.
“Need help undressing?” Waylon asked with a soft, teasing smile.
Mona’s cheeks turned bright red in an instant.
Last time, it was the drug–her actions were driven by the overwhelming desire in her body. But this time, it was her own mind guiding her.
Undressing in front of a complete stranger–it was beyond embarrassing.
But the contract was already signed. She was already sitting on his lap. It
was far too late to back out now.
Waylon noticed her trembling. He lowered his head and gently kissed the corner of her lips. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
His kisses trailed slowly–from her lips to her chin, then down to her neck.
His warm breath brushed against her skin, tickling softly, while a strange and uncontrollable heat stirred deep inside her.
Overwhelmed by sensation, she started to tremble. “Mr. Haley.”
Waylon tugged open the collar of her nightgown with his teeth–she hadn’t
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worn anything underneath.
Her young, supple body was as soft and tempting as a freshly peeled lychee, enough to make anyone’s mouth water.
Mona felt a sudden chill across her chest–then his burning lips touched her bare skin.
She completely lost control. Her whole body flushed a deep rose red, blooming like a wildflower–breathtaking, alluring, and impossibly vivid.
It was a long time before he finally lifted his head, gazing at her dazed expression: “Ms. Morse, you’re sweet.”
The words snapped her back to reality. She looked into his clear, calm eyes–there wasn’t a trace of desire in them.
Only then did it hit her–she’d been the one overwhelmed. He, all along, had stayed completely composed.
Mona didn’t know where to put herself–she was mortified.
Still holding her gently, Waylon reached out and adjusted her clothes.
“The first time is always a bit awkward. You’ll get used to it.”
‘Used to something this intimate?‘ she thought. The thought alone made her blush so hard she could barely breathe.
He gently placed her down on the sofa. “Good night, Ms. Morse.”
“G–Good night,” Mona replied softly, standing up to watch him leave.
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