“That’s horrible,” I finally manage to get out. I realize that my drink is gone and I grab a third one from a passing waiter.
Miranda doesn’t say anything as she sees me downing the last glass of champagne.
“Don’t drink too much,” she says gently. “You don’t want to get too drunk to see the way he keeps looking at you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she says, “that Trevor Fox doesn’t view you as just his assistant. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you for more than two minutes since you waltzed in here.”
“You’re mistaken,” I say politely. “I’m just the girl who works for him.”
“Sweetie,” Miranda says, leading me slowly back to where the men are still talking. “You’re just the first girl he’s ever brought to a gala. He always flies solo at these events. You really think he just happened to need a date?” She grins when she sees the shocked expression on my face.
“He said his date canceled at the last minute.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“No, he was serious. He was really upset about it.”
“I may not know a lot about you, Allison, but I know a lot about Trevor Fox. I’ve known him since we were just kids, and if there’s one thing I can tell you about the way his eyes are undressing you right now, it’s that I hope you have some condoms in that little bag of yours ‘cause he’s about to take you on one hell of a ride.”
13.
Trevor
She looks beautiful.
Allison’s dark hair is down and curled, flowing softly over her shoulders. The earrings sparkle and shimmer against her hair when she turns a certain way, bringing my gaze down her face to her smile. It’s so easy and bright. Most people are slow to offer smiles to strangers, but not her. Not Allison. With her, everything is a joy. Everything makes her happy. Everything makes her feel something.
I just wish she was looking at me that way.
I cringe when I think about her going through my drawers this morning. She looked so incredible with the morning sun falling on her naked body, but why did she have to open those drawers? She must think I’m a total man-slut or a complete freak, at the very least.
I make a mental note to clean out my dresser before she comes over again, but right now, I just can’t stop looking at her. The dark blue dress she chose is perfect. I’m usually not a fan of the style she’s wearing, but somehow she manages to pull it off. And then some. I keep wondering what’s beneath the dress. Did she go for a strapless corset to hold her breasts tightly up? Is she braless? Does her thong match the delicate fabric of her gown?
Will I ever get to see her naked again?
Ben and I have finished talking business by the time the girls get back and are in a heated debate over whose football team is better when they walk up to us.
“I brought you a drink,” Allison smiles at me and hands me a glass of champagne. She blushes shyly as our fingers graze against each other. Damn, if she’s not the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I want to take her home, throw her onto my bed, and fuck her silly. I want to tie her up and tease her, playing with every inch of her body until she’s begging me to fuck her mouth, until she’s cum again and again and again beneath me.
I want to show her how a real man fucks his girl.
I want to show her that I’m the last man she’ll ever need.
As we continue to make small talk with Miranda and Ben, I try to stop my mind from wandering. This isn’t anything special, I tell myself, even though I know it’s a lie. I try to remind myself that Allison is just another girl, another woman who could break my heart.
I saw the way my father was shattered when I was a kid. I saw the way he broke and I remember the promise I made to myself that I would never let myself become that vulnerable, that I would never let a woman hurt me. Even though I let my guard down around Miranda, in the end, she almost destroyed me, and I remembered my promise: don’t break. Don’t get hurt. Don’t shatter because of love.
Somehow, though, as I watch the way Allison laughs, as I watch the way she moves, as I watch the way her hand lightly brushes back her hair, somehow I wonder if letting her break me would really be that bad.
14.
Allison
The night ends and Trevor leads me outside to his car.
“No driver tonight?” I ask.
“No,” he smiles. “I let him have the rest of the night off. No need for him to wait around on us when he could be home with his kids.”
He opens the door for me and I slide inside, making myself comfortable against the leather seats. I kick my shoes off and curl my feet under myself on the front seat. By the time Trevor makes it to the driver’s side of the car, I’m so cozy that I could fall asleep right here.
“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks as he starts the car. He doesn’t ask where I live, but it doesn’t matter. I can spend the night at his house again and have him drop me off in the morning. Somehow, the idea of spending another night alone with Trevor doesn’t bother me. It just excites me. I’m still feeling a little tipsy from the drinking I did tonight.
“I had a great time,” I tell him, and my stomach growls.
Immediately embarrassed, I blush ten shades of red and mumble, “Sorry.”
“When was the last time you ate?” He asks, suddenly concerned.
“Uh, breakfast.”
“Allison,” he chides me. His voice sounds harsh, but I know he’s just worried about me. “You need to eat something. We’ll stop on the way home. I know a great sandwich place, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. Normally I’d protest, telling him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way or anything, but I’m tired and hungry and drunk. “A sandwich sounds perfect.”
Within a few minutes, he pulls into the parking lot of a tiny deli and we hop out.
“I love this place,” he tells me, leading me inside. A door dings, letting the lone employee know that we’re there. “It’s open 24 hours, so you can literally get a sub whenever you want one.”
Instead of looking at the menu, I walk over to one of the booths and lay down on my back, staring at the fluorescent lighting. Trevor doesn’t seem to notice as I start counting how many lights are on the ceiling. I get to five or fifteen, I don’t know, when he sits down across from me and places a sandwich in front of me.
“Eat.”
I unwrap the sub and take a huge bite.
“Mmm,” I moan, closing my eyes. It’s so good. Seriously, this might be the best sandwich I’ve ever had. I moan again and immediately realize that I sound like I’m being fucked, only I don’t really care. I tell myself it’s the alcohol because the next bite has me moaning again, also with my eyes closed. By the time I finally open my eyes, Trevor is staring at me with an amused smirk.
“That’s what I sound like during sex,” I say, and take another bite of my sandwich.
He leans across the table and motions for me to lean forward. I do so and he whispers in my ear.
“That’s not how you’re going to sound when we have sex.”
“What?”
“When I fuck you, Allison Byard, you’re going to be screaming for mercy so loud the neighbors are going to wonder what I’m doing to you.”
My eyes open wide and I just stare at him as he sits back comfortably and eats his own meal. I realize for the first time that not wearing panties was probably a bad idea because I’m feeling so incredibly wet right now. I reach into my purse and pull them out.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
“I don’t have panties on and I need them on now.” I fumble with them for a second, wondering how I'm going to slide them on without being seen.
Trevor starts laughing, grabs my panties from my hands and shoves them in his pocket.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, pulling me up from the table. “I’ll let you do a lot of stuff when you drink, but putting your panties back on? I don’t think so, Miss By
ard. I don’t think so.”
15.
Allison
When Trevor and I get back to his place, I kick off my shoes in the living room and lay down on the couch.
“Nope,” he says, pulling me up. “You need a glass of water, an ibuprofen, and bed.”
“Take me to your bed then,” I say. He doesn’t reply right away and I wonder if he thinks I’m being stupid. After all, he’s used to girls throwing themselves at him. I don’t know why I suddenly feel so special when I’m around him. I don’t know why I suddenly think I’m cute enough that he’d want to fuck me. It has to be the alcohol. It has to be because I’m never this brave. I’m brave, all right. Don’t get me wrong. I’m just never so brave that I’ll tell a billionaire hottie to fuck me.
After a moment, I see him take a deep breath. Then he shakes his head and picks me up. I don’t even protest as he carries me gently upstairs and lays me in the guest bed. I feel like a little toy doll as he fusses over me. The way he cares for me reminds me of my porcelain dolls when I was little. I would always fuss over them, making sure they were perfectly comfortable when I tucked them into their cradles. For the first time in a very long time, I’m the one being taken care of.
And it feels wonderful.
“Do you want to sleep in your dress?” He asks. “I have a t-shirt you can sleep in if you think you’d be more comfortable.”
“Naked is fine,” I say, sitting up in the bed. He turns around like a true gentleman as I manage to get out of my dress and bra. I climb under the covers and pull the blankets up to my chin. “Done.”
He turns back around, tucks me in, kisses me on the forehead, and leaves. By the time he reaches the door, I’m already drifting off into the most perfect sleep I’ve had in months.
When I wake, it’s still dark outside. I wonder how long I slept for. My phone is downstairs in my purse, so I make my way down the hall and the darkened staircase to the living room. I feel around and manage to find my bag. It’s 4am. I text Holly, letting her know that I’m okay and I’ll be home before dinnertime. Then I walk outside to the pool and, for the second time this weekend, jump right in.
Being naked in Trevor’s pool isn’t weird. In fact, I float on my back, staring up at the starry night sky, and feel nothing but peace. We’re so close to the ocean that I can hear the waves as I rest in the water. I don’t know why I’m awake so early or why I can’t sleep, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. I wonder if he ever comes out here like this and watches the sky.
When I was little, anytime I’d feel scared or lonely, my mom would tell me to look at the stars and remember that anyone I was missing was looking at the same starry sky. I close my eyes suddenly, not wanting to think about her. It’s been over a year since she died, but it still hurts. The only person I want thinking of me when they look at the sky is gone and never coming back. Somehow, I don’t feel restful anymore. I just feel alone.
I let myself sink down under the water and I hold my breath for a minute before I decide to swim laps. There’s no way I’m going to fall back asleep now and I can’t exactly go home at 4:30 in the morning, so I might as well get a workout in. For the next hour, I swim back and forth in Trevor’s pool. The only thought that fills my head is the number of laps I’ve done and the number I still have left to do. By the time the sun starts to rise, I’m exhausted and ready for a hot shower.
I pull myself from the pool and realize that I didn’t bring a towel with me, so I lay out on one of the pool chairs to dry off before I go prancing around his house. Trevor has a pretty nice place and while he’s been more than gracious letting me sleep here the past few nights, I’m certain he doesn’t want pool water dripping all over his carpets.
I spread out on the chair and close my eyes. It’s just for a moment, just until I dry. Then I’ll go inside and get dressed. Then…
16.
Trevor
Could she look any more beautiful?
For someone who happens to be fairly modest, Allison Byard has been spending a lot of time naked at my house this weekend. She's sprawled out on the back patio when I wake up. I'm guessing she went for a middle-of-the-night swim and didn't make it back to her room. I can't bring myself to wake her up, not like that. She obviously didn't expect for me to see her. She couldn't have.
Somehow, I manage to pry my eyes from her body long enough to grab a warm blanket and spread it over her. She shifts lazily in her sleep, squirming and mumbling something I don't understand, but I manage to get back inside before she wakes up.
If you had asked me a couple of weeks ago whether or not I could see myself getting involved with someone, I would have laughed in your face. Waking up to this every day, though? Yeah, I could get used to this.
We ate late last night, so I'm not hungry and don't bother with breakfast. If Allison wants something when she wakes up, I'll cook. For now, I shower and get dressed for the day. I have a late luncheon this afternoon that I can't miss, so I hope she wakes up soon. I want to talk with her about the gala. What did she think? Did she have fun? Did she like Miranda?
As I brush my teeth, I try to focus on anything but the way Allison smiled at me last night. She was dressed to kill and when she pulled her panties out of her bag at the deli, I almost came in my pants. I realize again and again that I'm feeling drawn to her in ways I can't explain and that it's dangerous. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never fall in love. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't let myself get hurt the way my dad did. I promised myself a lot of things.
Now, for the first time in my life, I'm questioning those promises.
Now, for the first time, I'm thinking about more than just one night with a woman. I'm thinking about how it would feel to wake up next to Allison with her legs wrapped around me. I'm thinking about how it would feel to snuggle against her all night, holding her when she has bad dreams. I'm thinking about how it damn good it would feel to be the one who got to kiss her awake every morning.
Shit.
I've got it bad.
I pull on my jeans and a casual button-down shirt, carefully trying not to imagine her undressing me. By the time I get downstairs, I hope she's awake, because I've got to get going. I take one last look in the mirror before I head downstairs. Are those butterflies in my stomach? I feel excited and nervous at the same time, for the first time in a very long time, until I see her.
Then my heart soars.
"Good morning," I say. She's curled up on the couch now, still wrapped in the blanket.
"Hey," she purrs. "Thanks for the blanket." She pulls it closer around herself, warming up.
"I have to get going," I say regretfully. Part of me thinks about canceling the luncheon, but the more realistic side of me knows it's a dangerous choice. I can't blow off work just because I feel like it. Kayfox is what it is because of my father's strong work ethic. It's something he passed on to me and it's something I can't just brush off, no matter how I'm feeling.
"Oh," she looks around quickly. "I'll just get dressed and get out of your hair."
"You don't have to leave," I say. Why did I say that? "I'll only be gone about an hour. If you want to hang out, you're more than welcome to."
She hesitates for a moment. She's thinking about it. I want to tell her to stay. I want to tell her I'll cook for her when I get home. I want to tell her I'll be thinking about her the entire time I'm gone.
But I can't.
I can't bring myself to say any of it.
"Oh, well, that's okay," she smiles, standing up. She's still wrapped in the blanket, but we both know she's completely nude beneath it. I want the blanket to fall. I want her to come to me. I want to wrap my arms around her and not let go until she's mine.
Completely, totally mine.
"I should really get home," Allison says, coming over to me. Then, letting go of the blanket with just one hand and hanging on tightly with the other, she reaches over and hugs me. Her hair still smells amazing; her touch is soft
and sweet. "Thank you for everything," she says. "This has been an amazing weekend. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
She presses her lips to my cheek and I feel myself grow instantly hard. I mumble something about giving her a ride, but she waves me off.
"Holly will get me," she says. Then Allison disappears upstairs to get dressed and I have to walk out the door. It's a horrible end to a wonderful weekend.
17.
Allison
The first thing I do when I walk into work Monday morning is stop in the bathroom. Trevor saw a lot of me this weekend: more than any man should ever see. This morning, I want to remind him why he hired me. I quickly cover up the dark circles beneath my eyes and dab on a touch of perfume. I can't let him get the best of me.
Not today.
Not ever.
I hurry into my office, making my way past Gina with only a mumbled "Good morning." I feel her glancing at me as I hurry past. She's probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me. The only thing wrong with me is that I want to avoid Trevor as long as possible so that I can try to get my bearings. I feel ruffled from the entire weekend. I feel off my game.
It's not that I don't like him.
It's that I like him so much that I don't know how to handle it.
I spent all of last night touching myself, thinking about what I would have done if he had touched me. What if he had climbed onto the pool chair next to me instead of covering me with a blanket? What if he had grazed my breasts with his fingers? What if he had licked me from my neck to my pussy?
What would I have done then?
I'm still wet now, just thinking about it.
And it's only 9:00. I still have an entire day ahead of me. I still have an entire day of facing him, interacting with him, and working beside him. My job is to make his life easier, but I'm suddenly regretting the way that working for him complicates things so much.
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