I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [04] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

His face broke into an amused smile; and even though I knew I shouldn't be thinking about it, but he looked twice as incredibly sexy when he had that mischievous glint in his eyes. A knock on the door spoiled everything, though.

He returned to his normal expression: dark, almost business-like, lips in straight line and...a bit cynical. Any moment, I was expecting him to burst into an evil laughter. Instead, he said, "Come in."

The large oak doors swung open and a...service cart thingy wheeled into the room by a woman in a powder blue uniform and a white, French maid apron hung around her waist. "As you requested, sir," she muttered with a low but soft voice.

For a second there I thought she thought that Brandon was going to kill her.

"That would be all," he muttered and the maid hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. "Not even a thanks?" I asked, frowning. He rolled his eyes as if I told him that I was going to be a rodeo clown when I grow up.

What a jerk.

He poured himself a cup of black coffee. "So, Samantha Bennett," he said calmly. His voice reminded me of a person trying to make a business deal. Formal and smooth. "After that little ordeal of yours last night, I'll assume that that was your parent?" he asked.

I tried hard not to frown, but I did. Not because he asked such a private question and made it sounded like it was no big deal (not to mention rude), but because that thing he was drinking was totally black.

Not a single sugar nor cream in it. Who the heck wanted to drink such poison? I'd be better off eating charcoal.

"Not in particular," I said, trying to match my tone with his. But as usual, I made a complete fool out of myself. I cleared my throat. "That was...Tom," I said. Oh god, I'd rather drink that poison instead of talking about this to him.

Him, the snobby, bad boy from school. Him, the epitome of a jackass who couldn't even say thank you.

Brandon handed me a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. "So I am to understand that he's not your parent, but he's Tom," he said briskly, but I swore I saw the corner of his lips twitching. I glared daggers towards Brandon.

"He adopted me, okay?" I grunted angrily, pushing the heavy bed covers off of me. Ignoring my aching body, I stood up. He was still looking at me with an amused expression on his face. Straightening my hair with my palm, I held my chin high up in the air.

"Well, I appreciate your hospitality," I said, half-sarcastically. "But I think I would go now."

"Where?"

Shit. I haven't thought of that...yet.

Panicked, I blurted out a nasty answer. "Tom's."

"That abusive man?"

"In his defense, he was drunk," I pointed out. Or maybe I was the one drunk here since I started to defend Tom. "Fine, leave," he said. "Be careful on your way downstairs though. The elevator is hard to find from my room."

...There was a friggin' elevator in their home?

"Fine!" I shouted.

But even as I said that (or, to be specific...screamed it to his face), I found myself practically rooted to the floor. Placing his cup on the saucer, he sighed and looked up towards me. "I'll make you a deal," he said.

"I don't want any deal."

"And apparently you don't want to go to some Tom's house either."

It's a trailer actually, I protested in my mind. Thank god I didn't say that out loud!

"I'm not expecting you to take the offer," he continued, ignoring my constant death glares. "But let's just put it this way, you can stay with me..." he trailed off.

Hah! Stay with him? In this ridiculously huge house with his stupid elevator?!

"If you'll be a good little girl, and help me with some...situations in my life, if you are needed in the first place that is," he said, taking a sip out of his cup again. The moment those words escaped his lips, I thought I must be dreaming...or partially deaf.

Hasn't he got enough maids in this house?

"You're asking me to be your...maid?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he said, hiding his smirk as he drank the entire cup of coffee.