by Kaye Blue
Using coordination she didn’t know she still had, she looked at him and lowered again, immediately recapturing his hardness in her mouth.
The salty-sweet masculine taste that was his, the flavor of her own sex, the hard stick of his dick against her tongue had her on the verge of coming again.
She stroked her tongue along his slit, once, twice, and then he jerked in her mouth and came, splashing her tongue with his seed again and again until he was spent.
Constance swallowed all of him, held him in her mouth until he softened. He slipped from her lips, but she continued, lapping at him until he put a staying hand on her shoulder.
She continued kneeling, watched as he tucked himself back into his pants.
Then he met her eyes, reached out and cupped her cheek.
Constance thought for a moment he would kiss her, but he didn’t.
Instead he helped her to her feet, and then carefully pulled her skirt down and smoothed it until it was perfect.
“Don’t forget about the meeting at four o’clock,” he said.
Constance smiled, still marveling at how quickly he could move from such an intense moment to a mundane reminder about a meeting.
“Of course not, Milo.”
Ten
Late that night, Milo was still at the office hours after he’d sent Constance home. He’d seen that she had a good dinner and then fucked her until they were both breathless, but then he’d insisted she go home for the night.
He’d had to.
He didn’t trust himself not to give into the urge, the instinct to take her back to his house.
And he couldn’t do that, because if Constance was ever in his bed, he’d never let her leave.
Whatever this was between him and Constance was growing, and he was fighting desperately to keep it in check, maintain the unspoken but vital boundaries around what he and Constance were doing. It was that, or risk losing himself to her completely, a battle that he worried he’d already lost.
When his office door opened, he looked up, hoping it was Constance, saddened when he saw that it wasn’t, but also relieved because he didn’t know what he’d say if he saw her right now.
“You work hard for someone so rich,” his friend Valentino Harper said as he strolled in and sat in the chair across from Milo.
“How do you think I stay rich?” Milo replied.
Val chuckled and rocked back in the chair, his sweats and bruised hands completely at odds with the office furniture Constance had picked.
He paused at that moment, wondering if there was anything in his life Constance hadn’t had a hand in. How had he overlooked how involved she was, how much he had come to rely on her, for so long?
“Want to tell Val all your troubles?” Val said.
Milo started scribbling on a piece of paper but knew that wouldn’t deter Val. They’d been friends for decades, and no matter how busy he was, Milo was at Val’s boxing gym at least once a week. That he’d missed three weeks in a row was no doubt the reason for Val’s visit.
“You gonna make me guess? Did Constance finally quit on your ass? That would explain why you’re still here. Probably can’t find your way to the elevator without her,” Val said.
Milo looked up sharply, his heart pounding at the thought. He glared at Val but then tried to hide his anger. But he realized it was too late when Val nodded at him knowingly.
“No, Val. Constance hasn’t quit,” Milo said tightly.
Val lifted a brow. “Okay, so you’ve finally told her how you feel?”
“Why are you interested in Constance all of a sudden?” Milo asked, his anger rising.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Val said.
“What the fuck are you talking about Val?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Even a dummy like me could see that you’ve been in love with the woman for years. She must love you back or she wouldn’t put up with your shit. So did you guys seal the deal?”
“Fuck off, Val,” Milo muttered.
“Don’t tell me you’ve fucked it up already?” Val said.
Milo bit back the anger that was building and glared at Val. “Constance is not your concern. And not that you deserve an answer to that stupid question, but there’s nothing between us. She’s simply my assistant. Nothing more,” Milo said, wishing he could believe his own lie.
Movement at the doorway made him look up, and in an instant, he saw Constance standing there, face white with shock.
He wanted to go to her, but he stayed put.
If he gave in to the impulse that told him to go to her, he would be admitting that there was something more between them, admitting how much he wanted that.
But he couldn’t.
He blinked, and Constance was gone.
Eleven
Constance wouldn’t let the tears fall, but they threatened, her eyes growing cloudier with each step she took out of the building and out of the fantasy world she’d built in her head.
She had left her cell phone on her desk, and had debated leaving it for the night, but had gone back when she thought she might need it. And there’d been the not small chance she would see Milo, which was one of the main reasons she’d come.
How could she be so stupid?
So what if Milo had fucked her twenty ways from Sunday? That didn’t mean anything.
She didn’t mean anything.
Stupid of her to even get involved with him, and doubly stupid to get her feelings hurt. She knew exactly who Milo was, knew that she would never be more than a passing fling.
The drive home passed in a blur as Constance fought her tears and tried to convince herself she hadn’t heard what she heard, and that what he’d said didn’t mean what she interpreted it as. She was just overreacting, letting her wild emotions get the better of her.
She was a little calmer when she finally got into bed, but sill, she tossed and turned all night, wavering between disbelief and utter desolation, sprinkled with little moments of hope.
How was it possible that he could touch her so passionately when she meant nothing to him?
He never made her any promises. Ever. She knew him better, had to since they’d been so intimate. But nothing had changed, or at least she thought. The only way to know for sure was to ask, but something in her recoiled at that thought.
What would Milo say? How would he respond, and would she be able to handle that response? She didn’t know the answer to those questions, and one wasn’t clear when she finally dressed and went to work the next day.
She was exhausted, wary during the entire day, one that passed uneventfully.
Milo didn’t show up until well after lunch, and didn’t stop to acknowledge her at all.
That irritated her, but she pushed that feeling aside, chalking it up to Milo just being himself. By the time evening rolled around, she had decided to confront the question that had been hanging over her all day.
It was clear her mind wasn’t going to leave her alone, and better to clarify things, see if there was some misunderstanding, clear it up, and get back to normal.
She pushed the button and spoke into the intercom. “Milo, may I speak to you for a moment?”
“Yes,” came his response through the tinny speaker.
She exhaled, then went into the office, smoothing her hands down her skirt, reminded that this visit to his office was so different than the others that had come before it, Constance feeling nervous in a way she hadn’t in years.
“Milo,” she said on a deep breath when she came to a stop in front of him, his huge body towering over her. Despite herself, she still wanted him, her fingers trembling with the need to touch him. She pushed that feeling down and met his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t eavesdropping yesterday. I just left my phone and heard voices…”
“I wasn’t concerned,” he said, his stance and eyes daring her to contradict him.
The little flash of arrogance was not uncommon, yet it irritated her right now
. But Constance ignored that and continued on. “I wasn’t listening in, but I couldn’t help but hear…”
Milo nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about this. Val is concerned,” he said.
“About what?”
“He thought you might have a misunderstanding of things.”
“Things like what?” she asked warily.
Milo wasn’t being clear, which was unlike him, and she couldn’t help but be alarmed by the direction this conversation was going.
“He’s worried you might be under the impression that there’s something more here. Between us,” Milo said.
“Something like what?” Constance’s wariness intensified as she watched Milo.
“He thought you might be confused about our status. That you might read into things,” he said.
“Why would I do a thing like that?” she asked, her voice coming out sharper than she intended.
He nodded, though, seeming to have ignored what she said. “Exactly. You enjoy our games just as I do. And you’re smart enough to know there’s nothing more to them than that,” he said.
“Our games? That’s what this is to you?” she said, angry though she couldn’t articulate why.
“Yes. That’s exactly what it is,” he said.
Constance felt like she had been slapped, and then felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
No, they hadn’t talked about whatever was happening between them, but she had convinced herself it was something more than games.
All of a sudden she began to shrivel inside, felt cold, cheap. She’d entered the office worried but certain they could navigate this conversation and get some clarity.
Now she just felt small, like a whore.
“Mr. Preston, I’m tendering my resignation,” she said.
For the first time in the years she had known him, Milo looked shocked. “What is this stupidity, Constance?” he asked.
He’d recovered from the shock quickly and was now taking his superior tone.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Preston. But I’m resigning. Good luck with your future,” she said.
She turned on her heels and marched out of the door, her vision again clouded with tears.
With every step she took, some small part of her hoped he would come after her.
He didn’t, and when the elevator doors closed, she let the tears fall.
Twelve
Two days later, Constance dragged herself to the door, wondering what the incessant pounding was.
“What the hell!”
Lexi’s smiling face greeted Constance when she pulled open the door.
“You sound like crap, but there’s nothing sesame chicken and tequila won’t cure,” Lexi said lifting two bags.
“Ugh. That sounds like a sinful combination. You get the plates. I’ll get the shot glasses,” Constance said.
Lexi laughed and then came in and Constance closed and locked the door behind her.
She wasn’t really in the best of moods, but forty-eight hours spent crying, missing Milo, and drifting into sleep had been more than enough.
“Is this a Milo-related disaster?” Lexi asked as she put a plate in front of Constance and took one of the glasses.
“Am I that obvious?” Constance asked, taking a swig of the tequila and letting the liquor burn down her throat.
“No. He’s just that much of an asshole,” Lexi said, taking a shot of her own.
“He’s not that bad…” The defense had come naturally, but given what had transpired, Constance didn’t have the heart to continue it. “He is that bad,” she said.
“What happened?” Lexi asked, frowning.
“Lex, you won’t believe what I did,” Constance said.
“So you two finally got it on?” Lexi said, as she shoveled a forkful of sesame chicken into her mouth.
Constance looked up. “Finally?”
Lexi snickered and said, “‘Finally’ she says as if I’m blind. I might have been a virgin, Constance, but I’m not a fool. There’s no other reason you would put up with that man’s crap. There’s no other reason he would so relish giving it to you.”
“I should deny it, but how can I?”
“So what happened?” Lexi asked.
“He heard something I said about needing to get laid,” Constance said, a blush creeping up her neck.
“And that led to hot sex in every corner of that ridiculously large office of his?” Lexi said on a giggle.
When Constance didn’t speak, Lexi’s smile dropped. “You’re joking. You’re not joking,” she said.
“Nope,” Constance said, still unable to believe it.
“Oh God. It was awesome, right?” Lexi said.
“Beyond,” Constance said, unable to deny the fact.
“So what did he do to screw it up?” Lexi asked.
“It wasn’t him. It was probably me. But I heard him talking to Val. He said it was nothing. That we were nothing,” Constance said.
“Yikes.”
“Exactly. I might have overreacted and quit on the spot,” Constance said.
Lexi shook her head. “You didn’t overreact. That asshole can say that kind of thing and make you think he believes it, and you don’t need to deal with that.”
“But I need a job, Lex,” Constance said.
“Easy enough. Callahan’s looking for somebody at the Palace,” she said, referencing a local restaurant and bar that they often went to.
“I don’t know how to be a waitress. And can I support myself doing that?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out. And it’s just something to do until you find another job. And with your skills, that won’t be long. But if that jerk can’t acknowledge you, you did the right thing walking out. And Eric and I have a spare bedroom,” she said.
Constance frowned.
“What?” Lexi asked.
“I can’t think of anything worse than living in the midst of you guys and your obnoxious love bubble,” Constance said, frowning.
Lexi smiled. “It is obnoxious?”
“Incredibly,” Constance said.
She laughed and took another sip of tequila. She didn’t begrudge her friend her happiness, welcomed it in fact, and she was glad Lexi had found her love with her new husband Eric.
Constance took another sip of tequila and ate her dinner, and as she did she came to a decision.
She’d cried for Milo for two days but she wouldn’t cry for him anymore. It was time to figure out how to live her life.
Without Milo.
Thirteen
Milo thought he would go insane.
And he was beyond pissed.
It had been forty-eight hours.
He’d let Constance have a couple of days to get over whatever her problem was, but she hadn’t come back.
She also hadn’t answered his calls.
And with each second that passed he got more and more angry. This was getting ridiculous.
He had simply been trying to tell Constance the truth, or at least some version of it. He was not the type of man who could give her the things she wanted, and he wasn’t the type of man she could build a life with.
He would take the kindness, the love that Constance so clearly wanted to give and never give anything back.
Which was why they had to keep things strictly as they were.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t have to work for him.
It was time for Constance to come back.
* * *
The next day, Constance sat in the Palace Bar & Grill, her legs daintily crossed at her ankles.
The owner, Callahan, sat across from her grinning, and Constance grinned back.
“So maybe I went overboard,” she said, looking down.
She had dressed in her most professional outfit, a black suit and jacket with a white blouse and low-heeled pumps.
She had even worn underwear.
She’d also printed off ten copies of her résumé and stuffed them
in her black portfolio.
And when she had walked into the Palace, a place she had been far more times than she could count, Callahan, had grinned at her much as he did now.
“Yeah. Maybe,” he said, his gruff voice filled with mirth as he laughed.
“I’m a straightforward guy, Constance,” he finally said.
He wrapped his huge arms across his even huger chest, the muscles of his corded forearms making his tattoos flex.
“Okay,” she said.
“Can you fill a beer glass?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Can you carry a tray?” he asked.
“Yes,” she responded.
“Then you got the job. Uniform is T-shirt and jeans,” he said.
“I got the job,” she echoed.
“Yep. First shift is tonight,” he said.
Fourteen
“This might be a bit more complicated than you led me to believe, Callahan,” Constance said later that night.
“Nah, you got the hang of it,” he said.
Constance grinned, but wasn’t as confident as he was. She had already spilled a beer, and her T-shirt was damp from the splashes.
She was also having more fun than she could remember.
This wasn’t working with Milo, but it was satisfying. She brought people drinks, got to share laughter and camaraderie, enough to make her forget that her heart was broken because of her own stupidity.
“And the customers like you,” Callahan said.
The tip jar was overflowing, but Constance suspected that was Lexi and Eric’s doing.
Still, she felt good, almost happy except for the hole in her chest.
“Two pitchers!” someone called from the other end of the bar.
“I got it,” Constance said as she went to fill the pitchers.
The taps were across from the door, and she turned toward them, faintly hearing the door open.
She paused, an eerie sensation passing over her, but she ignored it.
She filled the second pitcher and then grabbed them both, not looking at the bar’s newest occupant, but not having to.
