The Executive Floor

by Belinda Wright

  Chantelle couldn’t stop herself from watching him, his body cutting a clean path through the water, sending gentle ripples outwards as he went. His arms pumped around and around as he steamed forward in a strong front crawl, face down, only coming up to suck in a deep breath every few strokes.

  She forced her gaze away from him and began swimming again. The water was so warm, rushing over her muscles. She closed her eyes, enjoying the caressing sensation, her mind closed to the problems of finding a job and a place to live. She plunged herself into the luxury of the moment. She was dying to relive the moment before dinner when she had been in Granger Carmont’s arms. Butterflies filled her stomach when she thought about it. She wanted him again, to touch her, to kiss her.

  Surely this was all a dream? She was aching to continue what they had started, the water doing little to douse the excitement he had sparked in her body. When she reached the end of the pool she turned back towards the shallow end, getting only halfway through the length before she realised that Granger has stopped swimming and she was the only one moving in the water. He had his back to the wall, tanned arms resting on the edge on the pool.

  Chantelle shivered in spite of the warmth of the water. His eyes were fixed firmly on her. She stopped, but was still moving forwards, gliding towards him. It was as if he was an electric magnet, pulling her with a force so strong she was helpless to resist. Nerves of anticipation overwhelmed her. The look in his eyes told her what was coming next.

  She reached shallow water and her feet found the floor. She stretched out to the wall to steady herself, her long hair falling over her face and into her eyes. When she looked up again, Granger was coming towards her. She didn’t know what to say, she only knew what she felt. She wanted him like she’d never imagined wanting anyone in her life before.

  Granger took her face in his hands, strong fingers cupping her cheek, warm against her damp skin. He raised her face towards his and their eyes locked together. The air was thick with tension. Chantelle closed her eyes, unable to stand it any longer.

  ‘Please,’ she murmured; she was going to explode if he didn’t touch her soon. He slowly pulled her face to his. Their lips touched, so softly and gently Chantelle wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. But the kiss became harder and faster. Their mouths were locked, moving together. Granger’s tongue brushed hers. Chantelle gasped, loving the intense pleasure.

  He moved his hand from her face, never once releasing her mouth. He traced a path down her side leaving a heated trail on her skin. He pulled her towards him, lifting her weightless form. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the full extent of his masculine arousal burrowing against her. She pressed herself to him as her arms went around his neck, fingers curling in and out of his wet hair. The buds of her nipples tightened as he brushed his palms across her chest, grazing them with the flat of his hand. She moaned into his mouth. He cupped the full swell of her breasts, shifting the wet fabric of her bra to one side and exposing her to the lapping touch of the water and his caress.

  Chantelle groaned again; the sensation was too much. He moved forward, pinning her against the wall of the pool. She felt the hard tiles against her back. His mouth moved to her neck. She squeezed her eyes closed, resting her head on the side of the pool, offering herself up to him. His tongue moved down to her breasts, teeth gently nipping and teasing her. She sighed. Her eyes were closed, and her mind was spinning.

  Granger lifted her easily out of the water, placing her on the edge of the pool, her legs hanging into the water. He pulled himself out beside her in one strong movement and sat next to her. She was in a daze, shaking with pleasure; her muscles had dissolved. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes moving over her body. Chantelle reached for him. She wanted to feel him against her, inside her. Her fingers slid to the hardness in his swim shorts. He groaned at her touch as she fumbled with the waistband. He caught her hand.

  ‘Not here,’ he whispered.

  Chantelle almost cried in frustration. ‘Please! You can’t stop now.’

  He shook his head. ‘Let’s go back to my apartment so I can get a condom.’

  She stood up, her legs weak beneath her. She adjusted her bra and picked up the wet T-shirt from the poolside.

  ‘Here, let me.’ Granger grabbed the bathrobe and wrapped it around her, tying it gently. He led the way back to the lift, his strong arm around her waist. She snuggled into his body, breathing his masculine smell.

  Once back in the apartment, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs, placing her on the soft bed as delicately as if she were sleeping. Feeling her head touch the pillow, Chantelle opened her eyes. His face was above her, eye fixed on hers and intense.

  ‘Granger, I …’ she murmured.

  ‘Shhh,’ he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers. She parted her lips, wanting to taste him again, to make sure she hadn’t imagined what had happened in the pool. He kissed her, his body on top of hers. This time she couldn’t wait. She pulled at his robe urgently, needing to touch him, needing to feel that smooth taut skin that covered his muscular back and hard shoulders. The robe came away; he pulled off his shorts as she peeled off her wet underwear. She heard a rustle as he opened the foil of a condom packet and then he was naked above her. His hips met hers as he expertly moved himself between her legs.

  ‘Granger,’ she muttered, knowing what he wanted. She wanted the same. And then he was within her, burying deeper and deeper. She clung to him, his body pressed against her smoothness. Her hands grasped his back, pulling him down further on top of her. She wanted all of him. Her legs moved up and wrapped around his waist; he lifted her hips as he moved. He sat back, pulling away from her, holding her leg, lifting her calf to his lips, kissing it, caressing it with his hands. Chantelle watched him; small beads of sweat had formed on his chest and she felt an urge to hold him again. She sat up and moved forward, pushing him backwards so she was straddling him, her arms around his neck. She sat on his lap and he entered her again. Their faces were centimetres apart as she rocked above him. He kissed her neck and she could feel him deep within her.

  Her passion mounted with every move as she rocked faster and faster. She pressed her hips up towards him and clung on to him with all her remaining strength. He moaned, and his eyes closed. Chantelle increased her pace, the angle of his entry pushing her to the edge. They climaxed together, her nails digging into his shoulders as she grasped him tightly. His eyes opened as the pleasure overtook him and she looked into his clear blue eyes; they looked so deep, so vulnerable, she couldn’t stop staring.

  She collapsed in exhaustion, falling backwards, his strong arms around her. He lowered her down to the bed. He lay beside her; she turned her face to him and smiled, then shivered, her body still naked and exposed.

  ‘Come with me,’ he whispered, and got up.

  ‘Where?’ Chantelle asked, sitting up watching him. ‘I can’t move – I’ve got no energy left.’ Granger stepped off the bed and smiled at her, holding his hand out for her to follow him. She forced herself to get up. Her body felt heavy, her legs weak with exertion. She realised she didn’t feel at all self-conscious of her nakedness in front of him. He waited for her by the bathroom door, and she followed him inside. He turned on one of the lights over the sink. It cast a dim ambient glow over the designer room. Summerville was visible through the huge window, lit up beneath them.

  Granger turned on the shower. The water cascaded from the huge shower head, steaming hot. He stepped under the water and beckoned Chantelle to join him. She followed. The gentle jets of water soothed and warmed her skin. He poured some sweet fragrant shower gel into his hands and rubbed it over her body, his strong hands caressing and massaging her muscles. When he was finished it was Chantelle’s turn. She stared at him, his golden skin shining in the water. She lathered the shower gel and ran her hands over him. Her fingers explored the contours and ripples of muscle. It felt intimate an
d personal, washing him like that. She explored his body, allowing herself to become familiar with it in a way that she had never done with anyone before.

  When they were clean and fresh, Granger pulled big warm fluffy towels out of the cupboard and handed one to her.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ Granger said, stroking his fingers down her arm when they were dry and back in bed again. ‘This is a whole new world for me.’

  Chantelle laughed. ‘I struggle to believe that.’

  He looked at her, his eyes serious. ‘But why?’

  She shrugged. ‘You’ve had girlfriends before.’

  ‘Not like this. Never this intimate,’ he said, and the seriousness in his voice told her it was true.

  ‘I haven’t been to a place like this before.’ She waved her arm around, gesturing to the luxury apartment. ‘If my aunt and uncle could see it, well, I don’t think they would even believe such a place existed without seeing it. It’s such worlds away from our life in the Loire Valley.’

  ‘Hmmm. The Loire Valley. That sounds lovely. I’m imagining rolling green vineyards, farmhouses, tiny roads and villages. Is that what it’s like?’ Granger wrapped an arm around her and drew her close to him.

  Chantelle laughed. ‘I guess so. It’s … different from here. Where we live is far from any big towns. It’s just agricultural land. In summer, when all the vines are green, it is truly beautiful. But Uncle Nico is struggling each month to pay the bills. There isn’t any money in wine anymore. It’s so sad.’

  ‘Really? I thought French wine was popular.’

  ‘Yes, it is, but, well, the supermarkets are driving the prices lower and lower. They sell the bottles for less than it costs to make. I just wish I could do something more to help out. When I have a proper job, I am going to start sending money back home to my aunt and uncle. They’ve done so much for me, I would love to repay them somehow. If they hadn’t taken me in when my parents …’ Granger brushed a strand of hair from her face. ‘When my parents were killed in the car crash. I don’t know what I would have done. They saved my life.’

  ‘My darling.’ He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him. She buried her face in his shoulder for several moments.

  Then she pulled back and smiled at him. ‘We’re so different. It’s funny. Our backgrounds couldn’t be further apart.’ She laughed; Granger’s face remained straight. ‘You live like this.’ She motioned to the apartment. ‘And me coming from nothing.’

  ‘We’re not that different. I didn’t always live like this, you know. I …’ His eyes clouded, and he fell silent.

  ‘Tell me about you. I don’t know anything about Granger Carmont.’ Chantelle propped her head up on her arm.

  Granger twisted a strand of hair between his fingers; he seemed to be debating something, and then his face cleared. ‘I come from a long line of Carmonts. Dignitaries in Morocco. Most of my family still live there, all except my mother – she’s English. That’s why I moved to England when I was seven, to go to school, and I’ve been here ever since. I studied at Summerville. Economics.’ His voice was robotic.

  ‘I saw the degree on the wall.’ Her eyes were wide. ‘Tell me about Morocco.’

  ‘Morocco …’ He paused and traced a line down her bare skin with his fingertip; she felt goosebumps tingling. ‘Morocco is a wonderful place. It is rich haven for all the senses – sights, smells and tastes. The souks are busy markets full of spices, cedar wood, the smell of leather. I love it there. The architecture is outstanding – angular, block-shaped buildings, whitewashed walls. In the evening when the sun sets on the towns it’s the most romantic place I’ve been to. Then the nights are darker than the darkest night here.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful,’ Chantelle said dreamily. ‘I’d love to go there.’

  ‘Chantelle, I want to be honest with you, but …’ He looked into her eyes and for a moment she thought he was about to tell her something. ‘One day I will take you there. I have a place in Marrakech. I don’t get back enough, with work. I promise I will take you.’ Chantelle nodded; Granger’s blue eyes were wide and earnest.

  ‘After I left university, I started Granger Finance, and that has been my life ever since.’ He smiled. ‘Now enough about me. Come over here.’

  He pulled her to him, lifting her effortlessly with his powerful arms. He lowered her down on top of him; she felt his arousal instantly. Her hair fell around his face. He kissed her gently and traced his lips over her skin, stroking and caressing every inch. ‘Please don’t stop,’ she murmured. Their bodies fitted perfectly together. She reached up, grasping the back of his head, his neck, his muscular shoulders, pulling him closer and deeper into her, gasping with pleasure as he moved against her.

  ‘Oh, Granger,’ she moaned again as he plunged into her for the final time before they both, exhausted, felt asleep in a tangle of bodies.

  Chapter Seven

  Chantelle woke up in Granger’s arms. The sun was filtering in through the downstairs blind. He kissed her shoulders and her neck, before moving up and kissing her mouth.

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked.

  Chantelle stretched. ‘It’s incredible – I think I sleep better here than I have done all my life.’

  He grinned. ‘They are very expensive sheets. Guaranteed to help you to sleep well.’

  ‘Hmmm, that must be it.’ She smiled lazily.

  ‘I’m sure it is. You clearly have expensive tastes, Ms Moulier,’ Granger said and met her eyes.

  ‘Not normally, I can’t normally afford much,’ Chantelle said, propping herself up on her elbows.

  ‘What you can afford and what you deserve aren’t always aligned,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘I guess not.’

  There was a clicking sound. Soft at first, but it got louder. Chantelle sat up in bed, looking around. Granger flopped back on the pillow.

  ‘What’s that?’ she whispered.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he said, putting the pillow over his face. A sandy head appeared at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Ah, Rocky!’ Chantelle laughed. ‘Hello, boy.’ The dog took the invitation and climbed the last step on to the mezzanine. He clicked over to them and began licking Granger’s hand that was at the edge of the bed.

  ‘Ahh. Rocky! OK, I’m coming,’ Granger said, sitting up and peeling the duvet off himself. He looked back at Chantelle’s exposed chest and grimaced. ‘You’ve got a lot to thank me for, Rocky. Leaving her alone in bed like that!’ He groaned and headed to the bathroom.

  Chantelle looked at the dog, who looked back at her and cocked his head to one side. ‘Don’t worry about him, cheri,’ she whispered.

  Granger emerged from the bathroom five minutes later with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He went to the wardrobe, took out a suit and shirt and dressed quickly.

  ‘I’ll use the shower while you’re walking him,’ she said.

  ‘Take your time, beautiful.’

  Chantelle went to the bathroom and showered. When she came out of the bathroom, Granger had already gone out with Rocky. Her underwear had dried from the evening swim. She put it on and dressed in the same clothes she had worn yesterday, wondering if anyone in the office would notice that she hadn’t changed.

  Granger arrived back. ‘Here,’ he said with a smile. ‘I picked up breakfast.’ He dropped a bakery bag down on the table and went to the kitchen. He came back with two mugs of coffee.

  ‘Ah, you found something.’ Chantelle nodded to the mismatched mugs.

  He pulled a face. ‘That kitchen urgently need equipping. I should have taken the time earlier.’

  Chantelle sat down at the table and took a croissant out of the bag. She nibbled it, gazing out of the window at the hazy pink-blue morning sky. ‘Have you got a heavy day ahead?’ she asked.

  ‘A normal day. Incredibly busy, preparing for next we
ek. You know, I’m thinking of taking a holiday after the US. It’s been ages. November’s always a good month to go to Marrakesh.’

  ‘I bet it is.’

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

  Chantelle bit her lip. ‘As strange as it sounds, three weeks feels like it’s a long time away right now. I’ve got a lot to sort out in the next few weeks.’

  ‘Anything I can help with?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I need to take care of this alone.’

  Granger nodded. He drained his coffee and stood up, took her cup and carried them through to the kitchen. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘I’m just going to brush my teeth,’ Chantelle said and headed to the bathroom. When she came back, Granger had his bag in his hand. He had tied his tie and put his suit jacket on. His hair was neatly combed and she could smell his aftershave.

  ‘Shall we?’ He smiled at Chantelle and held the door for her. ‘Bye, Rock! Don’t destroy the place,’ he called to the dog on the way out.

  He reached for her hand in the lift and she felt a flutter of excitement. There was something very intimate about that simple gesture. Chantelle’s mouth curved up into a smile happiness filling her and radiating throughout her whole body. Granger opened the car door for her and they set off on the journey to work.

  As they pulled up at Granger Finance, Chantelle started to feel nervous. The glow from the previous evening was fading as the reality of work came back to her.

  ‘You take the lift first. We really can’t be seen together for a second time,’ Chantelle whispered as Granger drove up to his parking space.

  He gave her a sideways look, a small smile on his lips. ‘No one saw us the other day,’ he said in a mock whisper.

  ‘They might have, we don’t know. It is better not to take the risk,’ she said.

  ‘OK, OK, you’re the boss,’ Granger said, holding his hands up in mock defeat. Chantelle smiled at him and he grinned back. ‘You go first. I’ll park the car and take the next one.’ He let her out by the lift.