by Sienna Ciles
He raised an eyebrow, and I wondered if he knew what that actually meant.
“I was hoping that I could make it up to you and take you on a proper date—just the two of us,” he said.
I looked at Sabrina and Ginger and Nora, and I knew without asking what answer they wanted me to give.
“No, thank you,” I said. “I appreciate the bouquet, but I don’t think it’s going to work between us.” I didn’t really want to say it—not like that—but I also couldn’t bring myself to say yes, even with the thoughtful apology.
For a second, Stefan looked stunned, and then defeated. “Can’t I convince you in any way?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But no.”
He held my gaze a moment longer and then turned away, leaving his bouquet behind.
“Are you out of your mind?” Sabrina almost glared at me.
“He’s such a good guy! And he’s hot,” Ginger added.
“He seemed to have such strong feelings for you, Emma,” Nora finished.
“He left me hanging for two days,” I told them. “I don’t have time for that in my life.”
“He’s such a sweet guy though,” Sabrina insisted. “While he was waiting for you to come in, he bought five hundred dollars’ worth of flowers for people. He gave us the cash and told us that if anyone came in who looked sad or didn’t have enough money to pay for what they really wanted, that we should take it from the five hundred.”
I stared at her. Five hundred.
“Can I please just work? Let’s get down to it, and not discuss my personal life for a while,” I said.
Chapter Twenty
Stefan
After I left the flower shop, I went back and forth in my mind on the subject of whether to go out and get drunk to drown my sorrows. I knew it wouldn’t really help anything—I’d be just as bummed in the morning as I was before I got drunk—but I didn’t know what else to do with myself. I had really thought, really hoped, that the flower bouquet would work. I realized I had to have underestimated how upset Emma had been, but I didn’t know what else I could have done to try and fix what I hadn’t even meant to do.
It was eight o’clock, and I took my phone out of my pocket and flipped through my contacts, trying to decide who to text, who to check in with to see if they would go somewhere with me. None of the guys who’d met Emma; that was for sure. I was just about to decide not to bother at all, when I heard a knock at my door.
I didn’t have any idea what to expect, but I definitely didn’t expect to see Emma on the other side, holding a bouquet of her own.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s kind of a whole letter, in flower form,” Emma told me. “Pink roses…”
“For desire,” I said, remembering what I’d read that morning.
She nodded. “Hyacinth,” she said, pointing them out.
“For an apology,” I explained.
“Star of Bethlehem,” she added.
“Not familiar with that one,” I admitted.
“Atonement,” Emma explained. “And Carnations.”
“For love?”
She shrugged. “Like, at least.” She smiled.
“So, you want me, you’re sorry, and…”
“And I want to see if... if things can happen between us,” Emma finished for me. “I want to try and see if we can work.”
“Well, I know one thing that works between us just fine,” I said. I pulled her into the apartment and kissed her, only just remembering the flowers enough not to crush them between us. I took the bouquet away from her and set it on the table next to the apartment door where neither of us could knock it over, and then I deepened the kiss.
Somewhere along the way, I managed to close the door behind her, and the kiss between us intensified. I remembered how good it had been with Emma during our first night together and started caressing her all over, touching her, remembering the delicious curves of her body. Emma moaned against my lips as I cupped her breasts, and before too long, we were both pawing at each other’s clothes, eager to get them off.
Bit by bit, our clothes fell to the floor, trailing behind us as I led Emma toward my bedroom; I didn’t want her anywhere else—at least not yet. I pinned her down on my bed and pulled back just enough to ask, “You want this, right?”
“Oh, good god, yes,” she replied, her hands tightening on my shoulders.
I moved from her lips down to her breasts, and then back up, while my hand went to work between her legs, getting her as turned on as possible. Just like our first time together, she was quickly soaking wet, and with all the memories of our first night together, I was ready to go even before that, holding myself back for the sake of making sure she was as hot as possible first, instead of rushing to the main event.
Even at that, neither of us was willing to draw things out, and I could feel it in Emma as we teased each other, touching and kissing and stroking. When I finally slid into her, she fit around me just as perfectly as before, her wet heat wrapping around my erection as if her body was made for me to penetrate it. We moved together, hitting that rhythm between us once again, and I managed to stay slow for as long as I could to get her right up to the edge, and then neither of us could hold back any more. We both went at it full speed, grabbing and clinging to each other, kissing and nibbling and touching each other everywhere. I knew I wouldn’t last long, but I wouldn’t have to; there was still a good bit of night ahead of us, and we could go again at least another time or two before either of us needed to sleep.
I managed to hold back through one of Emma’s climaxes, but when she reached her second one, I gave in to the pressure building up in my balls, and came, moaning into her neck. I kissed her again and again, barely holding myself up as the last spasms of pleasure danced through my nervous system.
When I could finally breathe and speak again, I pulled back to look into her eyes. “You’re not going to dash off in the morning without saying goodbye, are you?”
She shook her head, grinning. “I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. And besides, after a night of sex, I’d really rather sleep in a bit.”
I laughed and kissed her again. “We probably should have an actual date at some point.”
Emma giggled. “We can save that for tomorrow night, unless you’ve got something already scheduled.”
“No, I’m free tomorrow night.” I rocked my hips against hers; I was already starting to get hard again. “Or maybe we can get lunch to have our official date, and then come back here.”
“Deal,” Emma said, and then we began moving together again, touching each other, and I knew that we were both going to have plenty of fun together even before we had our actual date. I’d figure out some other time how to come clean to my friends about my new girlfriend. For the time being, I would just enjoy her.
Special Bonus Books
Dear Reader,
As a special bonus, I’ve include previews of a few of my best selling books as well as the complete Accidentally His novel, which was an Amazon Bestseller when it was released.
As a special THANK YOU to Ellie Danes and I’ve also included a preview her best selling new release.
Enjoy!
Sienna
Keeping His Secret
A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
By
Sienna Ciles
www.SiennaCiles.com
Copyright
First Edition, January 2018
Copyright © 2018 by Sienna ciles
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
License
This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.c
om country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.
Book Description
My overbearing father thought he was protecting me.
He put me up in a swanky condo for school, paid my bills and took care of everything.
Little did he know he left me at the doorstep of the hottest bad boy I’ve ever met.
Dean was everything I never knew I wanted and everything my Father hated.
He came with muscles, an attitude and a secret.
Now we are both set on a path and can’t turn back.
If we follow through, it could change his life.
If we fail, it could ruin mine.
Chapter 1
Dalton
I finished the last of my crunches, did some stretching and finally jumped up from the mat laid out on the gym floor. The gym had been one of the many nice amenities that I was able to get access to as manager of the upscale community.
It was a sweet gig, and I was lucky to have it.
I had received stares throughout my workout.
Both good and bad.
The men always gave me sneering looks. I definitely didn’t fit in here. My tattooes glistened, accentuated by the sweat on my skin.
On the other hand, the group of young women doing Pilates in the corner had appeared to be fighting over which one might be able to extend her workout in my apartment, with me as a willing workout partner.
What they didn’t know was there wasn’t a chance in the world I would risk this sweet gig for a few minutes of bed bouncing fun.
I definitely had my chances.
My father had seen fit to throw me a bone and assign me this prime position. As much as I hated toeing the line dad laid out, I was tired of being a screw-up without a purpose or a plan. By managing one of Dad’s vast holdings and working hard, I hoped to one day be able to fully leave the past that was chasing me in the rear-view mirror. The problem with the past and mirrors was that it kept things in focus, and I still had a big secret that ensured my dark past kept me in its clutches for a while longer.
I tossed back some water from my bottle, flung the towel over my shoulder, and made for the door. I needed to shower and check for service requests made last night to ensure they got resolved immediately, as these people didn’t wait for anyone.
I almost felt like whistling as I headed toward the apartment in the corner of the first building, first floor where everyone entering the upscale building knew where to find the me. As I entered and made tracks to the bedroom, I couldn’t help glancing about at the sparse furnishings. I kept promising to do something to make the place feel more like a home and less like a college dorm occupied by fraternity brothers. One simple couch was laid out in front of the large screen television that supported my sports addiction, and a long coffee table for beer and whatever miscellaneous items I dropped on the way to my bedroom each evening was all that adorned the open living space. The bedroom boasted a king-sized bed, a dresser, a chair draped with discarded clothing, and one nightstand with a single lamp and alarm clock. The simple furnishings were not a choice, but rather an aversion to going out and facing decisions about such mundane items as furniture. I spent most days working off the list of well-to-do tenant demands. I also spent time taking care of additional business needs, and finding some relaxation in the local music scene.
Five minutes later, I stood shaking off the last drops of my shower, staring at the foggy mirror. I cleared a space with my towel so I could see my reflection. My brown hair tended to run a bit on the long side, and summer had been bleached lighter shades in a few places, the style of coloration people paid thousands to achieve in this pretentious city. My blue eyes took in the reflection, with a slight grimace. As I stared at my tattoos that were on full display, I had to acknowledge a few bad decisions from my reckless youth. One in particular caught my full attention and held. I let my eyes gaze on the name indelibly inscribed over my heart, a steady reminder of why I refused to get involved with people, and the cost of truly trusting a human being with your soul.
Flinging the towel onto the rack, I pushed my thoughts back to what had to be done today, and away from the mistakes of days past.
Dressed and headed for the kitchen, I flipped the top of the laptop at the little table and four chairs that served as my only work area in the apartment. It always took the ridiculous machine longer than me to wake up. Leaving it, I spent time rattling around the kitchen, fixing an egg white omelet, fresh squeezed green juice, and gathered up my vitamins. With my meal firmly in hand, I returned to the computer to check in on what “fun” activities the residents had planned for my day.
I was surprised when the first document was a notification of a new resident, because there hadn’t been any indication of new applications coming through the portal in days. I was shocked and surprised that an apartment had been rented completely without my knowledge, and I had less than a week to prepare the space. I read the information about the new tenant: 25 years old, graduate student, and female were all the details besides her name. Brittany sounded like a surfer blonde with an attitude, and considering what apartments in this complex went for a month, she had someone backing her in a big way. As I reached the box at the bottom with comments, my heart stuttered to a stop.
“Family friends with August Jones,” was the simply typed message that raised my blood pressure to boiling just by reading it. How the heck did my father know this woman? Wouldn’t be surprised if she was some little floozy the douche bag had on the side. My mother didn’t have a backbone capable of standing up to my dad, so she either wouldn’t know or care. I had zero doubt that my father had women on the side, but even for him, placing one in his own son’s building seemed a bit ballsy.
Trying not to let my temper get the best of me, I printed out the paperwork needed and tried to focus on the work I needed to get done before Brittany arrived. I went to the box that held all the apartment keys for the building and withdrew the one for 2A that was just a few doors down from my own apartment. Normally I was provided more advance notice before a new tenant arrived, but with three days until this chick would be moving in, I had to be quick with inspecting and doing a move-in check of all features of the apartment. When you paid the kind of rent these abodes cost, perfection in the details was required.
As I headed for the door and turned to check the inbox for other service requests I might help resolve on the way, I put the thought of my father’s involvement with this woman out of my mind.
As I walked down the hall, my mind was swirling in a million directions. My father had never bothered to come visit me since I moved into the apartment, and all communication between us had come through a host of administrative personnel tasked with doing my father’s bidding. Not that seeing my father was high on my list, as I had long been written off as a total loser and someone my father chose to keep hidden from his high-profile life.
Unfortunately, no interaction with my father meant I wasn’t able to see my mom either, and that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud. My mother had never possessed enough gumption of her own to stand up to the force that was my father. She had tried to support and protect me as a child, and I could totally acknowledge that with ten years in the rear-view mirror. I had spent every moment as a teen acting out against my father, and finally had driven a wedge so deep between us it hadn’t appeared repairable. Which was why when I was offered this job, I had been shocked at the olive branch of trust my father had extended, even if he had been unable or unwilling to do it in person.
I wanted to see my mom, and maybe somewhere down the road even make amends with dad. When the doubts snuck in and I had those weak moments in the dark, I reminded myself of the biggest reason that could never be a reality for me. Inhaling deeply, I acknowledged that some transgressions, while they start off small, can snowball so big they eclipse your life. I should know—every second I
was off my game and thought things were getting back on track, something would happen to push my back against the wall. No sense worrying about something I could never change. Still didn’t mean I couldn’t be the least bit curious about the new tenant and her relationship with my father.
Stepping into the vacant apartment, I flipped on the light switch. The smell was stifling and had me crossing the expanse of hardwood floors to open a window. I started an inspection of the apartment. The clean stainless steel and granite of the kitchen were all pristine from the scrub-down I had given it when the last tenant had left two months prior. I would need to run a cloth over everything and dust, but as I surveyed each room, I didn’t think the place needed more than that to be worthy of the illustrious Brittany.
I hoped the new tenant liked the digs. I was by far the youngest unmarried tenant in the building and while I made it a policy not to get involved with the tenants I had to wonder if she had a boyfriend. Was she going to be the kind of chick I could hang out with? Maybe watch football and swig beers with on the weekend. Or would she prefer high dollar fancy caviar dinners, expensive champagne, and guys who didn’t have a past they were still paying penance to outrun. Not that I cared either way, I tried to remind myself.
As I finished with the apartment, I thought maybe I could get a bit of that good karma playing in my favor with some fresh flowers, or a gift basket to brighten the place. If word got back to my father about it, and how accommodating I could be, well I wouldn’t complain. Closing the door as I exited, I found myself lightly humming on the way to the next item on my task list.
Chapter 2
Brittany
I stood with my parents on the front steps of the swanky apartment complex where I would be living, patiently listening to the extended list of warnings, explanations, and demands my father was reciting. Mother stood gazing at him, mouth slightly agape and patient as ever.
The movers had relocated everything efficiently that very morning from the spacious estate to the apartment. I was ready to enjoy my first night completely on my own for the first time ever, in a place that hadn’t been decorated by my father. Maybe I would watch a sitcom, read a book, or take a bath with a glass of wine.
