by Cynthia Sax
His underground parking spot is situated closest to the elevator, a much-coveted location. “Is this a Powers Corporation building?” I hold his hand as we walk. My tote is slung over my right shoulder.
“This is a Robert Reyes building.” Rob taps the button and the doors open. “The tenants are too upscale for Powers.”
We enter the elevator. The space is immaculately clean and smells like citrus. The floor is marble, the walls mirrored to give the illusion that the elevator is larger than it truly is. Rob selects the penthouse floor. Only the best for my man.
“I can’t picture you as a landlord.” I study him. He’s more of a stocks and bonds type of guy, those investments neat, hands-off. “Fixing toilets and changing light bulbs.”
“I’ve fixed a few toilets in my life.” Rob grins. “But I’d prefer to spend my evenings with a sarcastic beauty, a woman with a quick wit.” His gaze lowers to my breasts. “And endless curves. I’ve hired a management company to take care of the building.”
“That’s a good thing,” I tease. “I’ve seen the mess you made of your schedule.”
His gaze slides to the left. “It is a mess.”
“But I’ll fix it.” I lean against him, giving him the full frontal press. “Leave it to me.”
“I plan to.” Rob’s voice lowers suggestively. “I like what you’ve done with my schedule so far.”
I smile. “Are you censoring your thoughts again, Mr. Reyes?”
“I’d never disrespect you in front of other people, Miss Court,” he paraphrases what I told him days ago. “The elevators have cameras with audio.”
I play with the lapels of his suit jacket. “Then we shouldn’t be naughty?”
“Not here.” Rob hooks his arms around me. “And not yet.”
He’s hard. Again. The man is insatiable. I swivel my hips, teasing him.
He groans. “How can someone who looks so angelic be so wicked?”
“You like that I’m wicked.”
“No, I love that you’re wicked.”
Love. My breath hitches. “You’re no saint yourself.” This is a reminder for both of us. “You planned to push Mrs. Bellows out of her job.” I can’t, won’t fall in love with a man like that, no matter how much he tempts me.
Rob meets my gaze, holding it. “My plan wasn’t to push Margaret out of her job. With her heart condition, that would kill her. Almost losing her to that first stroke was rough enough.” His expression is bleak, his voice strained. “When I visited her in the hospital and she looked so…so…”
“Fragile,” I supply softly.
He nods. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Silence stretches. I lean against him, comforting him with my body, beset by my own memories.
It had been a shock, walking into that hospital room and seeing Mrs. Bellows, normally so strong, so put together, propped up against the stark white pillows. She’d been tiny and frail in that big bed, her face devoid of makeup, her expression achingly vulnerable.
I’d felt the same way as Rob had, helpless, wanting to do something, anything, to make my friend well again. I glance up at him. Is that why he is hiring help for Mrs. Bellows—to reduce her stress, prolong her life?
“Margaret is much more than my assistant, Kirsten.” Rob hugs me to him. “She’s a part of my family. I’d never harm her.”
He loves her, perhaps as much as I do.
I study him. He isn’t pushing her out of her job. I believe him about that. But my gut says he’s holding information back from me. “There’s something you’re not sharing with me.”
“You always read me.”
I wait. He doesn’t volunteer any more information, doesn’t tell me what that something is. “And?”
“And you’re the right person to be Margaret’s assistant.”
“You’re not hiring me to help Mrs. Bellows.” I shake my head, dismissing that bullshit. This position benefits him, not my friend. “You’re hiring me because you want me.” That must be the reason.
“I’m hiring you because I trust you.”
I raise one of my eyebrows.
“And because I want you.” The corners of his lips lift. “Don’t judge me for that, beautiful. You feel the same way about me.”
That’s true. I do want him. Do I trust him? He has a secret, something he’s withholding from me, yet he has never lied to me. He always keeps his word. “I won’t judge you for that.”
“For that.” Rob chuckles. “You make me work for everything.” He lowers his face until his lips are a lick away from mine. “I will. I’ll work damn hard.”
“Will you?” I’ll worry about secrets and hidden agendas tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll enjoy this handsome bastard standing before me. “You might get all sweaty.”
“There’s no might about it.” He splays his fingers over my lower back. “We’ll get dirty.”
God. His voice is like sin, flowing through my veins, heating me all over. “I need you, Rob.” I lick my bottom lip. “I need you so badly.”
His gaze follows the movement of my tongue. “I want to suck on those pouting lips, taste your need. I—”
The elevator doors open.
“Thank God.” He grabs my hand and pulls me forward into a narrow hallway. “I was one moan away from ravishing you on camera.”
He unlocks the door, pushes me inside. I catch a glimpse of tanned walls, hardwood floors, a lit chandelier, before Rob captures my face between his big palms and kisses me hard.
This is what I want. I moan, drop my tote and grasp his shoulders, seeking to be closer to him. He walks me backward until my shoulders hit unyielding wall.
I lift one of my legs, curl it around his thigh, moving with him as he grinds into me. Friction warms our bodies. Lust engulfs us.
Rob ravishes my mouth with abandonment. I suck on his tongue. The stubble on his chin teases my skin.
“She’s very beautiful,” a female voice observes.
What the fuck? I push at Rob’s shoulders. Someone is watching us.
“She is pretty,” another unidentified woman agrees. “They look great together.”
Make that two someones.
“Jesus H. Christ.” Rob breaks our kiss, leans his forehead against mine.
“Mr. Robert,” the second woman gasps.
“Robert Raymond Reyes, we don’t use that type of language in this house.”
“This is my house.” He turns toward two older women. They stand at the other end of the room, not at all repentant about watching us. “I can use whatever type of language I want.”
The women exchange knowing looks.
“You’ve been working too hard again, Son.” A tiny birdlike lady with his soulful eyes and unruly hair tilts her head. “I can tell.”
Oh my God. This is his mom. I smooth down my skirt, run my fingers through my loosened locks. I’m meeting her for the first time and I look like a mess.
“You get grumpy when you work too hard, Mr. Robert,” a larger woman wearing a pale-blue uniform and a crisp, white apron chimes in. This must be the housekeeper he’s told me so much about. She’s another woman he cares for, respects the opinion of.
Both of them saw me dry hump Rob. My face heats.
“I’m grumpy, Natty, because I asked you to leave some leftovers in the fridge for us.” Frustration edges his voice. “Leave, not wait here for me to return.”
“We were waiting for both of you to return.” His mother beams at me. “And we couldn’t have you serving our dear Kirsten leftovers, could we?”
“Not gonna happen.” Natty shakes her head. “Not on my watch.”
I stare at them. His mom and his housekeeper know who I am. He has told them about me. Why would he do that?
Because he mentioned my name in passing when he asked for the leftovers, I rationalize. The two women have made more out of it than was warranted.
My mom would have done the same thing. Which is why I’ve only mentioned Rob once, twice, okay, maybe ten o
r twenty times to her.
“There’s chicken, potatoes and carrots in the slow cooker.” Natty waves her hand, I assume, in the direction of the kitchen.
“And Black Forest cake in the fridge.” Rob’s mother floats toward us, her gaze fixed on me. “His father and I ate that the night we conceived Robert.”
Rob groans. “She doesn’t need to know that, Mom.”
“I’m helping you to move things along, Son.”
“Because it took you forever to get to this point,” Natty mutters. “We need some babies. We’re not getting any younger.”
“Or any less stubborn,” my adorably embarrassed executive says under his breath. “Thank you, ladies, for your help,” he announces in a louder voice. “I can take it from here.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Reyes isn’t ready to leave. “We could stay while you eat dinner. If you’d taken her to a restaurant, you wouldn’t have had any privacy either. There would have been waiters and other people around.”
“Which is why I didn’t take her to a restaurant.” Rob is losing his patience.
“Ohhh…” Her mouth rounds. “That’s very clever.”
“He’s a smart one, our Mr. Robert.” Natty nods, giving his plan to seduce me her approval also.
I don’t know why he’s encouraging them. He should have immediately explained that we’re casual, that they’ve interpreted too much from his request, nipping their expectations in the bud.
“We’re leaving, but not until we greet our dear Kirsten.” Mrs. Reyes turns her attention to me. “I’m pleased you’re here.” She embraces me. Rob’s mom smells like roses, her frame frighteningly delicate. “So very pleased.”
She looks at me as though I’m the answer to her prayers, talks as though she’s been expecting to meet me for years.
“Ummm…” I don’t know what to say. ‘Hi. I’m your son’s convenience fuck. You will likely never see me again.’ doesn’t seem appropriate.
“Keep our young rascal in line.” Natty crushes me against her bountiful breasts. “Don’t let him give you any lip.”
“She doesn’t.” Rob answers for me. “She makes me work for everything.”
“As she should,” the women say in unison, smiling wide.
He rolls his eyes. “Ladies.” Rob opens the door.
“It’s about time, Mr. Robert.” Natty gives him one of her bone-bending hugs. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you, Natty.” Rob hugs her back, his face softening. He tolerates her interfering because he loves her. He loves both of them. A ball of emotion forms in my throat.
“Robert.” Mrs. Reyes leans back, gazing up at him. He’s a tall man, appears even taller beside this tiny woman. He must have gotten his height from his father.
“Mom.” Rob bends over until their faces are level, this gesture melting my insides.
She cups his cheeks, holding his face in her palms. “I love you.”
“I know that, Mom.” His voice lowers to a murmur. “I love you too. But it’s too early for all of this.” He covers her hands with his. “Kirsten and I need our privacy.”
They gaze at each other, communicating without words. The moment stretches, held together with emotion, with understanding, and I feel honored and a bit guilty to be observing the mother-son interlude.
She sighs. “I know you need your privacy. That’s what your father said also. He refused to leave the house.” She lifts onto her tiptoes and tenderly kisses his forehead. “But I wanted to meet her.” She pulls away from him, releasing his cheeks. “And now I have.” She smiles at me. “Ensure that my son doesn’t work too hard, Kirsten.”
“I’ll try, Mrs. Reyes.” My words are choked.
“Mom,” she corrects. “Call me—”
“It’s too soon for that, Mom.” Rob nudges her closer to the door.
“If you say so, Son.” She gives me another cheery wave and flits away.
I open my mouth.
He holds up his index finger. “Wait.” He pokes his head out of the door, looks to the left and the right and then closes it. “They’re gone.” He stares at the wood. “I must be as exhausted as they say. I should have expected that visit.”
“This isn’t the first time they’ve interfered, huh?” I survey his place. It’s decorated in warm tones with classic pieces of furniture. Edges are rounded. Curves replace angles. On the walls, half-naked, plump, dark-haired women cavort by rivers, barefoot and happy. His penthouse is warm and inviting and feels like a home. “Must be hard to have a sex life with your mom and housekeeper dropping by, cock-blocking you,” I tease.
“My mother dropped by because you were here.” Rob turns, a frown on his handsome face. “Involving Natty in our evening was a mistake. Tomorrow night, we’ll eat dinner at the office.”
I lift my chin, hearing more than his words. “You don’t want me to meet them again.” This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
“You’ll meet them again. There’s no stopping that.” His lips twist. “I’ll ask Natty for her key so we don’t have any surprise visitors in the future. Plus you’ll need access to the penthouse.”
“I don’t need access. I’m staying here for one night only.”
“Hmmm…” He thinks I’m full of shit.
“I brought a tote,” I remind him. “With one change of clothes.”
“And you packed nothing to wear tonight.” The look in Rob’s eyes is excitingly wolfish. “You’ll be sleeping naked in my arms. I’ve been thinking about that all day.”
The bulge in his dress pants tells me he’s thinking about that right now. “I’m not finished arguing with you yet.”
“I know.” He pulls me to him, folding my curves into his muscle. “It’s so fuckin’ hot. I want to kiss the pout out of your lips, suck on that witty tongue of yours.” His head dips. “And—”
My stomach rumbles. Loudly.
“Ignore that,” I urge, wishing to hear the rest of his erotic plans.
The rumbling escalates in volume, growing more insistent.
“I’d need earplugs to ignore that.” Rob chuckles. “We’ll satisfy our other appetites before heading to the bedroom.”
His bedroom. I look forward to seeing his private space, to view where he spends his nights. “Fucking in the bedroom is very old-fashioned.”
“I’m an old-fashioned type of guy.” He smiles. “Let’s taste this culinary masterpiece our ladies have left for us.” He extends his hand to me.
“I am hungry.” I slide my palm into his, his skin warm, firm. “We might wish to stay away from the Black Forest cake, though. According to your mom, it’s quite potent.”
Rob throws back his head and laughs.
* * *
We eat in his tidy kitchen and then fuck in his earth-toned bedroom, in front of a huge oil painting of a lovely curvaceous woman washing her dark flowing hair. He has a type, I think, as I lick him clean, savoring our combined flavors. And I am exactly that type.
Beautiful isn’t simply a flippant endearment Rob uses, a way to get into my silk panties. It’s genuinely how he views my generous figure, as a priceless living touchable work of art. The admiration in his eyes is real, lasting, as timeless as the art on his walls.
I feel adored, cherished, desired. Once I’ve licked every inch of him, Rob kisses me, stealing a taste of us. We cuddle, talk until we fall into the sleep of the sexually sated, his naked body folded protectively around mine.
I wake to firm lips sucking on my right breast, the tug and pull of Rob’s hot mouth setting off a pulsing in my pussy. His hair is crazy, his curls enchantingly out of control. He’s braced upward, his muscles flexed. His shoulders are broad, tanned, perfect for resting a woman’s thighs upon as she’s being fucked into the mattress.
Not merely a woman’s thighs. My thighs.
Because this gorgeous man is intent on pleasing me. He flicks my nipple with his tongue, playfully nips at my skin.
“I could get used to this.” I thread my fing
ers through his hair, holding him to me.
“That’s my devious plan.” Rob gazes up at me and smiles. My heart constricts. He’s so damn handsome. “I’ll pleasure you so well, you’ll desire this every morning.” He laves my curves with the flat of his tongue. “And know only I can give it to you.”
“You’re a bastard.” The warmth in my voice takes the harshness out of my words.
“So you tell me, beautiful.” He rubs the stubble on his chin over my skin, leaving a tantalizing trail of heat. “I want to spend the day inside you.”
“That’s not possible, boss.” We have a full day of meetings ahead of us. “But you can spend the next few minutes inside me.” I spread my legs, giving him access to all of me. “And you can fall asleep inside me tonight.”
His eyes widen. “You’ll stay over tonight?”
Oh shit. After our sexual exploits yesterday, I assumed he wanted another night. “If you have other plans—”
“I don’t.” He shifts upward, aligning his tip with my entrance and eases inside me. “And if I did have plans, I’d cancel them. This is how I want to start the work week, staring into your dark eyes, your body under mine, your warmth, scent, wetness around my cock.”
“That’s too bad.” I tilt my hips, taking him deeper. “I thought we’d begin Monday with a mind-frying blow job. You’d shoot your cum down my throat and I’d taste you all day long.”
“Fuck.” Rob rocks into me. “That’s good too. You can suck me off Tuesday morning.”
I feign a frown. “I like to celebrate Tuesdays with a cock in my ass.”
“With my cock in your ass.” His tempo increases. “I’m the only man who will touch you.”
“While I’m working for you.” I pant, gripping his shoulders.
“Ever.” He surges in and out of me, his vigorous thrusts torching my brain and moving the bed. “I’ll fuck your ass on…hell…which day are we discussing?”
“Tuesday.” I labor under him. “Or Wednesday.” I’m not certain. “Our fucking schedule is also a mess.”
“Discuss…later,” Rob grunts. “Can’t…think.”
