Manservant Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  NEWSLETTER SIGN-UP

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Manservant

  Shari J Ryan

  Contents

  Title Page

  NEWSLETTER SIGN-UP

  Prologue

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  NEWSLETTER SIGN-UP

  If you haven’t already, please make sure you sign up for my newsletter so you are the first to hear about deal and new releases. I don’t spam, and I just want to be friends…like, forever. I’m not a stalker either, don’t worry.

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  Copyright © 2017 by Shari J. Ryan

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  * * *

  Shari J. Ryan

  P.O. Box 365

  Northbridge, MA 01534

  www.sharijryan.com

  To Annelle

  Everyone needs that one friend that can turn your whole day around with one simple eggplant emoji text message.

  I am eternally grateful for our friendship and the fits of laughter you bring to my life every day.

  xoxoxo

  DISCLAIMER

  This book is intended for readers over the age of 18.

  * * *

  Some material in this book contains language and scenes for adult audiences only. If you are easily offended, this book may not appeal to you.

  Early Praise for Shari J. Ryan

  Shari has written just the most entertaining, most hilarious, I cannot catch my breath for laughing rom-com. It is truly a masterpiece and one that she can certainly be very proud of. Even in the laughter, Shari addresses the very serious issue of Aspergers and the effects of the disorder on young children and their caregivers. She did this with class, care and heartfelt understanding. As the mom of a special little guy on the autism spectrum, I'm grateful for the care that Shari showed Dylan and the strength of his bond with Liam.

  * * *

  A terrific enemies to lovers story! A secondary cast just as awesome as the main characters. Without a doubt this has been just the most fun! Congratulations, Shari! This is your BEST EVER! SIX STARS! Go get this one!

  Crystal, Bookalicious Babes Blog

  ONE YEAR EARLIER

  One final exam left to go! Then I can forget about everything and spend the summer with my Andy. Our schedules haven’t allowed us to be together nearly enough this year, and I hope to make up for that over the break by spending most of our time in bed.

  Since I’m two years behind Andy, it's been hard watching him get scooped up into the real world while I'm still living on campus, but he's here every weekend, and we talk a lot. Just one year to go, and then we can get an apartment together and finally be on the same life page.

  “How did you do, girly?” Jade pops up behind me and wraps her arm around my neck as we make our way down the dorm hallway.

  “Not too bad, but I felt like Professor Adams was staring at me the whole time I was taking my mass comm final. It was very distracting,” I tell her.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “He totally wants to get in your pants. It could boost your final grade.” She squeezes me and shrieks, “One more day in this hell hole, and it’s summer vacation.”

  “That’s gross. He’s like sixty or seventy. Plus, that mole on his cheek has two hairs growing out of it, and the dried boogers he always has in his nose . . . how does he not know they’re there?”

  “Yeah, good point. Don’t let him near your pants. A better grade isn’t worth it for that,” Jade says. “Oh crap, before I forget, do you have that dress I lent you last week? Chip is taking me out for our sexiversary tonight.”

  I laugh at the way she accentuates the sex part of their anniversary. Jade and Chip celebrate every milestone, no matter how small, or how large. “Ooh la la! Where are you going?” I ask, reaching into my back pocket for my room key.

  “Probably a burger joint, but I still like to look nice. Plus, I don’t care if we just sit outside and do nothing. It’s Chip,” she says breathlessly. “I have no problem just staring at him all night. That’s normal, right?”

  “You have it so bad for him, Jade. Please shoot me if I ever end up like you,” I jest.

  “Oh pa-lease, you and Andy are totally heading down the same path. He like totally worships the ground you walk on, and the air you breathe—all that crapola.”

  “You think so?” I ask with a small smile, wondering whether I truly am following in Jade's footsteps. It's never been my thing to fall head over heels for someone the way Jade has, but Andy does have a particular charm to him. Plus, it's been a year, and we're in love and already talking about future plans. So, maybe she is right. “He’s good to me. I think I lucked out there.”

  “See, you thought all hotties were assholes. I told you that wasn’t the case,” she reminds me.

  “I was wrong,” I lament. “Feel better?”

  Jade pats herself on the back. “I do feel better, as a matter of fact. Thanks.”

  “Andy’s here packing up my stuff so we can take off right after my final tomorrow. He’ll be happy to see you,” I tell her.

  “Oh, I didn’t know he was here,” Jade chirps. “Let me at the tough guy. He needs a Jade hug.”“Maybe I should warn him first.” I laugh with a raised brow because it takes a certain type of person to handle Jade's eccentricity. “Take a deep breath first and calm down, so you don't startle him.” Andy calls her Crazy Jade, but I've kept that to myself.

  I unlock my dorm room and push it open. “Andy, look who’s here to see you,” I announce while pulling my key out of the lock.

  As I turn toward my side of the room, my heart does that thing where it beats twice at one time instead of beating at its normal rhythm, right before it sinks to the bottom of my stomach, and suddenly I want to vomit.

/>   Andy is here, but he’s definitely not helping me pack. He’s in the middle of my three-hundred-dollar Pottery Barn comforter, butt naked, in the company of not one, but two naked girls. He has his face buried in one girl’s crotch, and his cock in the other. As I focus on the horrifying scene, I know it will be burned in my mind forever. It’s Lara and Kari from next door—with Andy—on my bed, on my comforter that cost me a whole month’s salary. There’s a naked ass on my pillow, and two sets of breasts furiously bouncing in the air. I feel totally disgusted and violated.

  Not one of them heard the door open, or my voice as I announced my entrance. They must be having a really good time.

  Jade walks in beside me, and I shove the door closed, causing a loud thud. In response to the sound, body parts begin to fly and untangle as the three of them sit up, all with looks of utter shock. Are they actually shocked to be caught having sex on my bed? Did not one of them consider that I might get out of my exam a few minutes early and catch them? Oh my God? How long has this been going on?

  “I can explain,” Andy says.

  Explain? I take a few steps forward, feeling bewildered, hurt, and raging mad. “Explain what? How Lara’s crotch fell on top of your mouth, and your cock fell into Kari? Is that the story?” I’m not sure how I’m even holding myself together right now and forming understandable words, but I never expected to see a threesome—especially on my bed with my boyfriend and two friends from next door. “You’re such a fucking douche bag,” I yell. “And you two skanks . . . I thought we were friends. Kari, I held your ratty hair last week while you vomited in a bush on the quad. What the hell are you doing?”

  “Oh man, she's totally going to kill all of you,” Jade mumbles to them as she twirls her hair around the back of her ear.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Julia,” Lara says.

  “Sorry? Out. Everyone out.” I feel the sobs creeping up my throat, so I grab what’s closest to me, which happens to be a keyboard. I tear it from the computer and throw it at them, missing all three.

  “Jules, you know you have a bad throwing arm. That’s not going to work,” Jade whispers in my ear.

  I take my phone out of my back pocket and snap a picture of the horrifying scene on my pretty comforter. “You’re right, Jade. It’s better to post this picture on Instagram later, so everyone knows how slutty these three are.”

  “Guys aren’t usually called sluts,” Jade whispers again.

  “Shh,” I tell her.

  “Please,” Lara begs. “I’m up for a scholarship next year for the community service projects I’ve done this semester. This will ruin my chances.”

  I laugh. “Fuck you.”

  “Babe, let’s talk this through,” Andy says, standing up from the bed in his full glory. He quickly moves across the room and grabs my arm, pulls me in to him, and presses his lips to my forehead. “I love you. I was just—”

  “You were just testing out the skanks from next door instead of helping me pack?”

  “Well—”

  “Get the hell off of me,” I seethe, trying to push him away. His grip is tight, and it’s pissing me off even more than I already am.

  As I try to squirm away, he tightens his hold. “Please, Julia.”

  Fine. So be it. I knee the asshole so hard in his exposed balls that he flops to the ground like a jellyfish, moaning in pain. “Don’t worry; your little pecker problem never did much for me anyway.” I snap one more picture to make one of those cute collages, then take Jade by the arm to leave. “I told you all hot guys were assholes,” I remind her as we walk out the door.

  “Only the hot guys you seem to find, sweetie.”

  “Fuck all hot guys. No, wait. I will never fuck another one again.”

  “You just handled that so well. I could never do what you just did,” Jade tells me.

  I learned long ago that it's either tears or anger—weakness or strength. I've been gutted before, and I know anger is the best way to deal with the pain draining from the core of my heart. “Don't be fooled to think I'm okay,” I tell her. “I don't ever want to date again. I’m swearing off all guys, especially hot guys.”

  “Oh—uh, okay well, let’s just get out of here for a few minutes, so you don’t say anything else you’re going to regret,” Jade says, trying to pacify me at this life-altering moment.

  “It's true, Jade. I will never make this mistake again.” Three men, all too into themselves to care even just a little bit about someone else—me. Andy, though, he’s the icing on the cake made of douchebags, and this heartache I'm about to go through will be enough to last me a lifetime.

  CURRENT DAY

  There you are. I slide my hand into the back of my bottom drawer and pull out the one thing I’ve been hanging onto like a childhood blanket. There was a point in time when I avoided the thought of a little treasure like this because of the naughty behavior it’s used for. Then, I broke up with Andy, and suddenly there was an ache between my legs that needed a type of attention it wasn’t getting anymore. Seeing as how I've crossed out the idea of dating, my mind was on overdrive, causing me to have wet dreams—because, evidently, it can happen to women too. However, this issue morphed into nightmares that would end with the equivalent of whatever blue balls are for women, which I’ve proclaimed to be a purple peach. Hey, just go with it, okay?

  Anyway, I could either fix my problem with another guy who would break my heart, or I could solve my own problem. Seeing as I’m a DIYer, I’m all for finding alternative solutions.

  About a year ago, I pulled up Amazon and searched for vibrators. Little did I know, there are at least a hundred different varieties; some are simple and get the job done, others . . . well, some are big, and some are small some are quite fancy, some have numerous features, and then there are the types that I couldn’t make heads or tails of (pun intended). I went for simple and cute, figuring it was my best bet, but it was like a dying battery in an electric razor. I needed something with a little more power. So, I moved up a few levels and felt like I was being pried open by the thing. Anyway, it took five tries, but I finally found the “one,” which I call Shermanator because I’m one of those people who need to give everything a name, and I’m just that lonely. In any case, my problem has been solved—no more purple peach.

  Now that it’s been almost a year since I found Shermanator, he hasn’t cheated on me once, and I don’t know what I’d do without him. Changing the batteries once a month is way easier than putting up with the good-looking men I tend to be attracted to, and the typical issues come along with them. I know I’m discriminating against hot men, but they have a track record with me, and it isn’t good.

  After burying Shermanator under my clothes, I zip up my last bag and hoist it up on my knee to get a better grip, then clamber out of my bedroom and head down the hall to the front door. “That should be it,” I chirp, before tripping over a stupid random shoe lying on our matted, green shag carpeting.

  As I’m flying forward and my bag is tumbling through the air, I realize I’ve been so busy packing these last few days that I haven’t had much time to clean up. It’s right this second, just as I’m hitting the ground and temporarily branding my clumsy body with a new bruise that the guilt settles in—or was settling in until the big gasp Dad always makes every time I fall or walk into a wall. You'd think I was getting hit by a car every single time I have a Julia-moment. His gasps are so loud that they actually scare me enough to make me jump. Yup, that's Dad.

  “Oh, dear God,” Dad shouts, running toward me. “How have I managed to keep you alive for twenty-two years. People are going to think you've been raised by wolves who never taught you to walk. Are you okay?”

  “Dad, I'm fine,” I tell him, pushing myself up to my knees. I love him to death, but he can be very overly dramatic at times, or sort of all the time.

  “Let me get that for you, Jelly-Bean.” Dad takes the heavy bag from the ground. Thankfully, it didn’t fly open. Obviously, the only thing that could make
this dramatic scene worse is if Shermanator had flown from the bag and fallen in front of him. I can hear it now: What’s this Jelly-Bean? Is it one of those funky, thick pens with all the different colors, like the ones you had when you were a kid? I didn’t know they were still around.

  “I can get my bag, Dad, really, it’s okay.”

  “I don’t want you falling again, walking into the closed door, tripping down the steps, or . . . seriously, Jelly-Bean, please try to be more careful. I’m not going to be with you in Maine to scrape you off the floor every ten minutes.” Yeah, yeah. My clumsiness is nothing new. Some people have two left feet, some people constantly have their head in the clouds, and some people are lucky enough to be a part of both categories. That would be me. However, I did survive four years of college, so I'll be okay in Maine too.

  I meet Dad at my little, circa-1995ish blue coupe—it’s my other pride and joy, or piece of shit, as Dad refers to it, but right now, it’s my ticket to freedom. “This thing is going to shit itself on the way to Maine. You have that AAA card I gave you, right?” he asks.

  “It's not going to die, and yes, I have the card,” I groan.

  “All right then, I think it's time for you to hit the road, kiddo. Let's get moving.”

  I give him an odd look because he's rushing me. Dad doesn't rush me away from the house, ever. He's usually trying to figure out a way to make me stay longer, unless—”