by Bella Grant
She’s cute, Carter thought, studying her face. She had thick, perfectly arched eyebrows, with a dainty mouth and a pointed chin. Her skin was what Carter’s mother might describe as “peaches and cream,” a term Carter found weirdly appetizing. Maybe that was the point. Just thinking of the term made him want to lean over and kiss the soft, exposed flesh of her shoulder and smell the sweetness of her skin.
She was a slender girl, all sharp elbows and knees. A flurry of antiquated words one might use to describe a girl like her flitted through his mind, words like “willowy” and “waifish.” Carter cleared his throat and sipped his coffee, wondering why he was so hung up on her.
Did he have a thing for this girl? She was just that—a girl. She was barely a woman, not even able to drink yet. Carter had bottles of scotch in his home older than she was. She was almost ten years his junior. You’re a guy with a lot of baggage, Carter reminded himself. You have no business messing with a sweet girl like her. Yet, something made him doubt she was simply a “sweet girl.” She had a hardness he noticed over the course of the morning, a fragile toughness, like a piece of metal that was strong but brittle, easy to break with the right pressure.
Yes, he’d offered her too much money for a job he would have paid someone else twice as qualified half as much to do, but in spite of that, he had no regrets. Hiring Ava felt right, as did talking to her and thinking about her. Carter reminded himself that meant on a business level, Ava felt right on a professional level, but in the back of his mind, he knew he had already crossed that boundary. He was already mentally trying her out. What would it be like if she was his woman?
“So, what about you, Ava?” Carter asked suddenly, catching her off-guard. He had lost track of the conversation and was more interested in pursuing his own line of questions.
She had been examining the leaves of the hanging fern on the balcony railing, but she snapped back to attention. “Sorry,” she replied, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, you’ve heard my life story, or at least my business story. What’s yours?”
“Oh, um…There’s not much to tell, really,” Ava stammered, and Carter wondered if he’d embarrassed her by asking about it. “I was a foster kid. Life’s been rough, but that’s no excuse for failure. I’m trying to finish up school. I guess the big thing on my mind right now is that I need to move and I don’t know where to go.”
“Why do you need to move?” Carter asked, watching her intently. She certainly wasn’t lingering on the details of her situation. He fought the urge to press her for more information and let her change the subject.
“I can’t afford to pay for the extra space now that my roommate is gone,” she replied. “I could get another roommate, I guess, but I’m a very private person and I’m extremely particular about my environment. I don’t want some random stranger in my space, you know?”
“I understand,” Carter nodded. “I’m also very particular about my personal space.”
He didn’t bother adding that he never brought a woman home with him. He wasn’t a player or anything, but he did enjoy his share of social engagements with women. If they didn’t want to take him home, Carter would spring for a five-star hotel room downtown. It was easier. His home was his sanctuary, and the kind of women he typically dated didn’t belong there. So he kept it private, making sure no calculating, prospecting woman in a tight dress would intrude on him there.
“Why can’t you rent a new apartment?” Carter asked.
“I will. It’s just stressful. Someone like me can’t afford to be frivolous,” Ava explained, glancing down at the table as if she were ashamed. Carter winced as he listened to her confess her fears, embarrassed that moments earlier, he had carelessly wondered how much money he’d dropped on luxury hotel rooms in the past few months.
“You’re being extremely generous, but I have to think about the long-term game,” Ava said pragmatically. “And there’s no room in that for splurging on apartments. I have to save money for my future and live as cheaply as possible.”
“If you’re looking for a place to live, my guest house is available,” Carter replied automatically. He could hardly believe the words escaped his mouth. He was shocked by his offer, especially since he’d spent the past several minutes thinking about how well he had organized his life to avoid having intrusive people in his home. Now, he had just extended unfettered access to his property to a young woman he barely knew, a woman who was his employee.
Ava was silent, and Carter saw a questioning look on her face, almost skeptical, playing just beneath the surface. “Wow,” she said after a long pause. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, that’s incredibly nice, and I’m very grateful for the offer, but I can’t accept it.”
Carter could gracefully untangle himself from this mess, but something in him kept pushing. He wanted to help her. The idea was crazy, but he had a deep desire to make sure this girl was taken care of. And she probably didn’t have anyone else looking out for her.
“Please,” he said firmly, “I want you to.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t,” Ava said, equally firmly. “You’ve already done too much for me, and there must be some kind of balance between us or I won’t be able to hold my head up. You’d have too much power over me.”
As Ava spoke, Carter grew aroused. His heart beat a little faster in his chest, and he could feel all the blood flowing to one point in his body. She stared up at him through the thick lashes that perfectly framed her dark, almond-shaped eyes, and a pink flush spread over her cheeks. She was petite, and her shiny brunette hair framed her pointed face perfectly. Carter wanted to dominate her. He wanted to strike all the balance from their relationship and make Ava his entirely—his to care for and protect, to love, and to fuck.
As his erection pressed uncomfortably against his pants, Carter adjusted himself inconspicuously in his seat while trying to clear his mind of improper thoughts. Ava was his employee, and the last thing he should do was get involved with her.
“I understand,” he said politely, masking his disappointment. “Just know that you can come to me with any problem, and I will do my best to help you solve it. The offer for my guesthouse stands, should you ever find yourself in a bind.” The word ‘bind’ filled his mind with thoughts of tying her to his bedpost with his expensive silk ties, and he knew he had to abort the conversation before he said something stupid.
“All right…well, back to work then,” he said, finishing the last of his espresso and picking up the empty cup. “We’re about done here for the day. Why don’t you take the binder home and study it thoroughly, and I’ll quiz you on it next shift? You’re going to be the ringmaster around here once I move on to the next store, so I want to make sure you know the protocols inside and out. Sound good?”
Ava nodded and gave him a little smile. “I can do that,” she said determinedly.
Carter watched Ava from the window in his office overlooking the café as she gathered her things and prepared to leave. The soft curves of her body that so perfectly amplified her tiny frame were intoxicating to him. His desire pressed at his thoughts, and he leaned back in his chair and imagined her looking up at him with those big, almond-shaped eyes as she pleasured him while he held her silky hair in his fingers, guiding the movements of her head, totally in control.
Carter reached for a remote, and with the press of a button, the window shades in his office lowered. He unzipped his pants and pulled his stiff member out, moving his palm over the tip in smooth motions. He imagined what it would feel like to pull Ava’s hair back from her throat, to run his hand over the soft mounds of her breasts and slide it into her skirt to feel the wetness he had instigated. Then he would kiss her shoulder and the smooth skin of her neck as he lifted her skirt and spread her feet.
His hand moved faster as he fantasized about pulling her panties aside and spreading her wet center with his fingers, playing with her until she moaned, sighing for more. He would press against her, posi
tioning his tip against her warm center, and push inside her in one slow, smooth motion as her whole body trembled at the intrusion. Carter’s face was hot, and he let out a little moan of his own, fully absorbed in the sensations of his hand and the fantasy of taking Ava from behind, pleasuring himself with her body.
Feeling close to the edge, Carter reached for a tissue. He leaned his head back against the chair and imagined Ava crying out, anguished cries of pleasure bordering on pain, almost too much to bear. He pictured himself pressing hard against her, burying himself inside her small, tight hole, holding fast to her breast with one hand and pinching her nipple between his fingers while his other hand worked fast between her legs.
“Come, Ava. I want you to come for me,” he would whisper in her ear in what would be both permission and a command. He would allow her to come and demand she do so. And Ava would nod, a soft moan escaping her throat as her entire body dissolved into spasms, her muscles contracting against him, his hand on her hip holding her fast against his cock as she bucked and shook, desperate to collapse after the wave of pleasure passed through her.
The sharp knock on the door tore Carter’s mind back to reality. He cleared his throat and called, “Just a minute.” Thank God he had locked it. His erection throbbed uncomfortably in his hand. He was desperate to come, but he couldn’t satisfy himself now. He stuffed himself back inside his pants and hoped it didn’t smell like sex and sweat in here. His face was red, both from the physical strain and the embarrassment of almost getting caught. He turned the air-conditioning on and hit the buttons on his remote to raise the window shades and open the door.
He pulled his chair close to his desk, making sure his hard-on was hidden under the wood, and smoothed his hair as the door opened. He picked up his cellphone and pretended to be reading an important message.
One of his young, beautiful baristas stuck her head in the door. “Excuse me, sir?” she asked timidly. Carter felt his erection press hard against his pants, and his mind was fuzzy.
“Yes, what is it?” he asked, more curtly than he meant to.
“Sorry,” she replied nervously, “I was just wondering who was supposed to sign off on the supply order. It just arrived.”
Carter typically did that, since he had not yet trained his second-in-command, Ava, to do so. But he was in no state to leave his office at the moment, and after swiftly calculating the size of the order he had placed, he figured it was a simple enough task for one of his staff to do.
“You’ll do it, Danielle. Just make sure you cross-check every item from the inventory list and the shipping manifest, okay?” He handed her the inventory list that lay on his desk. “If you run into any trouble or you’re not sure about something, make a note of it and ask me after you’ve finished. Any questions?” Carter was eager to get the girl out of his office.
“No, I’ve got it,” she replied with a little nod. “Thank you.” She took the paper he handed her and scooted back out of the door.
Once alone, Carter let out a deep sigh. “Fuck!” he cursed, throwing his head back against his chair. His brain felt as if it had a splinter in it, a festering thought that overpowered all others, the animalistic imperative to come. He couldn’t do it now. The moment was too corrupted. That’s what you get for making her come first, he thought sarcastically. Carter knew he had a tendency to get too wrapped up in his fantasies. Shit, that was how this whole coffee shop came to be. Following fantasy to reality, living in the world he wanted to create. Transforming his dream Ava into reality might be his biggest challenge yet.
He was playing a dangerous game. Ava was his employee and he needed to remember that. Imagining taking her, making her come, controlling her sexually…he couldn’t let these thoughts get out of control, and he certainly couldn’t cross any lines with her that she didn’t also want. As much as he desired to dominate her, he also wanted to protect her, and she had been through too much in her life already. He wanted to care for her.
Ava was the first girl he’d met who held real promise as a partner, and if he could mold her into his ideal, submissive woman, his life would be complete. But he couldn’t do it without her consent, and at the moment, he didn’t have enough information to know whether that was possible. She was hard, brittle metal, and she needed to be heated thoroughly in order for him to bend her to his desires. Apply too much pressure or move too fast, and she would break. He needed patience. But as Carter’s unreleased orgasm pressed bitterly against his brain, patience was the last thing he had to offer.
Chapter 5
Ava
The afternoon was bright as Ava stepped out of the twilight haze of the coffee shop and back into the bustling street packed with people running afternoon errands. She wasn’t sure what she felt or where she wanted to go, and by default, she traced her steps back home. As she walked, she replayed the conversations they’d had, wondering what it could have meant and whether Carter was serious.
He’d offered her his guesthouse. Was that normal? Was that something employers did? Good employers, maybe. Ava had never had one of those before, but something inside her still doubted that, good or not, bosses typically didn’t offer their guesthouses to employees without something weird in the bargain as well. What did he want from her? Did he want her? Did he plan to use her?
Ava knew she should revolt against this thought but didn’t, and she was confused about why. She had never been with a man, partially because growing up in the system, most of the men she met were predatory, and partially because she’d never met anyone who interested her. Her awkward, failed kiss with Mateo was the furthest she’d ever gotten with a boy, and occasionally, she wondered if and when it would ever happen—sex, love, romance? Was that what Carter offered her? Was that what he asked for?
What if he is? Ava thought. Is that the worst thing? He’s sexy and handsome. He’s been nothing but generous. He’s not a creep.
She surprised herself with this mental declaration. Her creep-radar was strong, a byproduct of growing up in the system, and she had learned long, long ago to trust her gut when it came to men. After a few dangerous situations where her brain tried to rationalize away her physical responses, when she’d barely escaped in time, she learned above all to depend on her instincts. And her instincts told her that Carter was not a bad guy. Her instincts also told her he wanted something from her and was powerful enough to take it.
A chill ran down Ava’s spine at the thought, and she wondered how it would feel to be with a man like Carter. In her brief interactions with him so far, she had absorbed two dueling feelings about him. Part of her suspected he was a kind, gentle man who was fiercely protective of those he cared about, loyal and generous, and compassionate. That was evident from the job and the salary he’d offered her, how he’d asked about her background, and the way she caught him looking at her as they drank their coffee.
But part of her got an edgy feeling from him, a feeling that he had a darker side that wanted to dominate him—or maybe her—a side that needed to be in control. She had spent her whole life spinning wildly out of control, like a chaotic, free radical attacking itself, desperate for the critical stabilizing force of another atom, another free radical who could bind her to him and form something complete. As she walked, she felt her heart beat a little faster and the flesh tingle between her legs. She thought for a brief second that perhaps having a man like Carter to control her and guide her—an older man who had figured out his life, who would teach her what she needed to know in life—might be the best thing that could ever happen to her.
There’s no way he was serious about the guest house, she thought doubtfully, chasing away the thought of a man like Carter wanting a girl like her. He was ten years older and way too handsome and sophisticated to be interested in someone like her. Ava wasn’t even in his league. Quit deluding yourself, she told herself sternly.
Still, she wondered if there was something sad about him, a vague feeling she couldn’t quite place. The way he had talked abou
t constructing a scene for a life he wanted resonated with her in a way she didn’t fully understand, but it gave her the impression he was a man searching for something he hadn’t yet found.
Superficially, it seemed like he had everything. His family obviously cared about him, judging by the way he’d talked about people giving him a chance in life to be a success. He must have friends. He had money and a successful chain of businesses that were taking off across New England and spreading slowly westward. He had the luxury of paying her too much for a job she clearly wasn’t qualified to do. He was a man who should have it all, but something deep down in her heart told her it was just a façade, that he was as lost as she was.
Now you’re just being stupid, she thought sharply. Quit making up stories. You don’t know anything about him. She forced herself to stop this line of thinking. Her brain told her she was being presumptuous and that whatever “feelings” she had about him were fabricated. Her gut was less convinced, but for now, all she could do was ignore it. She brushed the feeling away and thought, it’s ridiculous to think he needs you to feel bad for him.
Ava opened the door to her apartment. It was dark and empty, now that half the stuff was gone, along with Mateo. She flopped down on the futon and felt a deep, devastating sorrow well up inside her. She hated being here, in this dark, sparsely furnished apartment. It had felt like home when Mateo was here, and frankly, it never seemed to matter where “home” was as long as he was there with her. He had been her family. But now, he was gone, and she was trapped inside a collection of walls that held no meaning for her, just memories of happiness that no longer existed. She felt utterly alone, and the dark apartment clawed at her, suffocating her.
She picked up her phone and video-called him. His phone rang several times before a message popped up. I can’t talk right now. Call you later?
Ava tried to fight the hollow pit filling her stomach. Of course, she wrote back. Hope you’re having fun there. She wondered if he was settled in and meeting new people. She was like a millstone around his neck, his needy sister who wasn’t even his sister who needed taking care of. Ava would have to learn to stand on her own, but the prospect of being alone in the world filled her with dread. All she wanted was someone to care for her, or even just care. Someone who would notice if she didn’t come home, someone who had her best interests at heart, someone who could see a potential in her she never saw in herself.
