by C. C. Snow
I was relieved when she shot me a laughing look.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping my hand. “Sometimes my tongue gets the better of me.”
She outright laughed. “You and me both. And please don’t hesitate to speak your mind. I don’t want someone to mindlessly agree with me.”
“Alright.” I took the pasta from her. “Let me cook. I’m half-Italian so you can trust me with this.”
“That explains your undergrad degree,” she said and opened the refrigerator, taking out a bag of baby spinach and a tub of ricotta cheese. “Mom or dad’s side?”
“Mom. She lives in Italy, actually.”
“Jake and I went to Italy before Aiden was born.” With a soft smile of remembrance, she sighed and looked into space. “Everything was simply beautiful. The landscape. The food. The people. Do you speak Italian fluently?”
“I get by, but there’s little opportunity to use my language skills here.”
“That’s a shame. Did you grow up in Italy?”
“Nope. I grew up in New York City.” I didn’t want to elaborate on my family background and hastily asked, “Where were you in Italy?”
Over lunch, Cora told me about her trip to Tuscany and we discussed the food and culture of my mother’s homeland.
The trip to the park did tire Aiden out and he started to nod off in his stroller, but his mom didn’t fare much better. Her feet were dragging by the time we walked through the door.
I unstrapped Aiden from his stroller and picked him up. At this stage of her pregnancy, Cora was struggling to carry his weight. He snuffled, but never opened his eyes.
As she climbed the stairs, Cora had to stifle her yawns with the back of her hand. I placed Aiden in his crib and crept out of the room, letting mom and son have some bonding time.
After a few minutes, she walked out of the room, leaving a small gap in the door.
“Cora,” I whispered.
She twisted to look at me in askance.
“Why don’t you take advantage of the quiet and take a nap too?” I suggested.
A look of longing crossed her face. “But I still have so much to do…”
“On the agenda you gave me, I saw that you needed some research done for a few firms. I’ll pull up their financial reports and have them ready for you when you wake up,” I said firmly.
When she yawned again, I gave her a speaking look and she grinned crookedly.
“Can you wake me in a couple of hours if I don’t get up on my own?”
“Absolutely. If Aiden doesn’t wake you up first,” I said.
She glanced at her son’s door and chuckled lowly. “Even as a little baby, he didn’t like to sleep. It’s as if he’s afraid of missing out on something.”
“Then you should take advantage of this downtime. Soon he’s going to stop napping altogether.”
She let out a wistful sigh. “I know. Kids grow up too fast. It seems like it was just yesterday when Aiden was sitting on my bladder.”
I laughed softly. “I didn’t realize women got sentimental about needing to use the bathroom all the time.”
Cora chuckled along with me. “It’s all the hormones that make me a bit crazy.” She cradled her belly. “Some days, I wish this little one would make an appearance already—if only so I don’t have to cry every time they show a baby shampoo commercial.” Cora was further along than I had initially thought. She was actually already nearing her twentieth week.
“He or she will get here soon enough and then you won’t be able to get any sleep,” I said, wiggling my fingers toward the direction of the master bedroom.
Finally taking my advice, Cora nodded her assent and walked down the hall.
I descended the stairs and went into the kitchen. After I poured myself a glass of water, I set up a workspace on the dining table. A new desk and chair were on order for me. In the meantime, I worked on whatever surface was convenient.
Firing up the new, company-issued laptop, I dove in. The subsidiaries Weston Enterprises owned were diverse and incredibly profitable. The figures were well into the billions and it was a bit mind-boggling. I started to print out the most essential reports and placed them in a neat stack for Cora to review.
An hour into my work, the doorbell rang. Afraid the noise would wake up Aiden and Cora, I sprinted toward the door and flung it open without checking the peephole.
“Cora, sorry for—”
No. This had to be a nightmare.
I stared into eyes I couldn’t get out of my head for over a month and lamented the unfairness of life. And cursed myself for burying my head in the sand…okay in my ass. Stupid. I had been criminally stupid.
I should have done a search on him before I took this job. I should have known there was no such thing as coincidence.
Those distinctive eyes shared by Aiden and Jake.
Weston Enterprises.
Cora Weston.
Jake Weston.
Troy Weston.
He stood on the stoop, larger than life, more gorgeous than any human had a right to be. In the light of day, his coloring was even more starkly mesmerizing—his dark-gold hair, his tawny skin, his otherworldly eyes with a dark blue ring on the outer edges of his irises.
Any hopes I had that he wouldn’t recognize me disappeared when his face slackened with shock. To be fair, it would be hard for him to forget someone who dumped dessert on his lap and then proceeded to denigrate him.
I gulped as his jaw firmed and his eyes glinted with crystalline sharpness. The small, sinfully sensual curve growing on his lips sent a tendril of apprehension down my spine. Suddenly I knew what a field mouse felt like under the predatory sights of a hawk.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath in self-disgust as my pulse skittered and danced uncontrollably—and not just from alarm at seeing him again. I was acting like a teenager who saw her boy band idol for the first time.
“Hello, Elle,” he said, an underlying current in his voice I couldn’t identify.
I bit my lip and stared at him dumbly. Finally I blurted, “What are you doing here?”
“I was coming to see my sister-in-law and my nephew. And to pick up a report. The better question is what are you doing here?”
“I’m Cora’s new PA,” I said defensively, but there was a note of uncertainty in my voice. Should I quit now that I knew he was my boss’s brother-in-law? How much contact would I need to have with him? A tiny part of me whimpered like a whipped little puppy thinking about having to interact with him on a regular basis.
Stop it, Elle. You like this job and you’re not going to screw it up because of your hormones. Get it together.
I curled my left hand into a fist, digging my nails into my palm, letting the biting pain ground me. The best strategy was to pretend that night never happened, I decided. I took a deep calming breath and said coolly, “Cora and Aiden are napping. I’m sure I can find the report in her office.”
“Okay.” He pointedly looked at my aggressive stance as I blocked the door.
Stiffening my spine, I forced myself to move back to allow him to come into the house.
Shutting the door, I turned around and inhaled sharply when my gaze encountered the wide expanse of his chest. Instinctively I pressed my back against the door, but he stepped into my personal space, planting his hands on either side of me. I was a tall woman, but he looked huge looming over me. He smelled like spearmint and sunshine.
Flustered by his proximity, I said hastily, “Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you?”
At the devilish sparkle in his eyes, I felt blood rise in my cheeks at my inadvertently suggestive statement. Why did this man make me so tongue-tied? I was a literature major for God’s sake. Words were my specialty.
“I meant your reports,” I clarified testily.
Eyes laughing at me still, he raised a patronizing brow. “Of course.”
“So…” I prodded, trying to duck under his arm.
<
br /> He dropped his arm, effectively trapping me. “Why did you run that night?” he asked, his tone sobering, his eyes searching.
At his blunt question, I inwardly flinched. The last thing I wanted to do was to revisit the mortifying encounter with him. Fixing my gaze on the swirling pattern on his blue tie, I shrugged and said with as much nonchalance as I could muster, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.”
At the viciousness in his voice my eyes flew to meet his. I felt my skin burn under his hot gaze.
He dipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “One minute you were melting my arms and then the next, you were gone. Tell me…” His voice lowered. “Did I do something wrong? I thought we connected.”
The intent—almost hungry—expression on his face made my heart hammer madly. I told myself other men had regarded me with the same look of lust, but I knew I was lying. There was that extra something in his gaze that made my blood race through my veins as if I had downed six shots of espresso.
This man was dangerous.
Annoyed at my reaction, I lifted my chin defiantly and said haughtily, “I just didn’t find the offer that enticing.”
His face grew taut and he murmured, “I call bullshit again. I could still feel the heat of your pussy on my palm.”
Oh God! Legs don’t fail me now, I commanded my suddenly trembling limbs and locked my knees. Why were dirty-talking men so damnably sexy?
“Arrogant much?” I retorted sarcastically, desperate to hide the outsized effect he had on me.
“It’s not arrogance when it’s the truth.” His eyes held mine captive as he lifted his hand and trailed a finger down the slope of my neck, landing on my pulse point. My heart rate fluttered in betrayal and he smiled wickedly. He caressed the hollow of my collarbone and I felt it all the way in my belly.
I squeezed my thighs together, fighting the lick of fire in my core.
Eyes blazing, he lowered his face inches from mine. “Don’t lie to yourself, baby. Can you say you’re not wet for me right now?”
The trace of cockiness in his voice jolted me out of my trance. I shoved at his chest. Surprised by my violent response, he stumbled back a step and I scampered away from him. Eyeing him warily, I walked backwards until my bottom hit the edge of the side table. I fought to control my erratic breathing.
“I don’t want to play games with you. I’m not interested,” I said shortly, glaring at him, hating the way he so easily sent my senses spinning out of control.
“Oh, you’re interested, alright. I just don’t understand why you’re denying yourself.” He angled his head and studied me as if I were a riddle he wanted to solve.
Only I didn’t want him to solve anything. “I feel like a broken record. Are you so full of yourself that you can’t conceive that a woman would tell you no?” I taunted, wanting to puncture his overinflated ego.
“Baby, your lips might say no, but your body…” His eyes started at my feet and trailed upwards, every now and then allowing his gaze to stall, making my skin prickle. When he reached my face, I felt like I was running a fever. “Is saying anything but.”
I narrowed my eyes at how smug he sounded. This was a man who was used to getting what he wanted from women, but I wasn’t going to become one of his many sexual conquests.
Enough. I refused to run scared like a timid little mouse. It was time to give him a dose of his own medicine.
Pushing away from the table, I threw my shoulders back and started to walk toward him, infinitesimally exaggerating the sway of my hips. I was grateful I was in one of my better-fitting outfits today—skin-hugging jeans and a cotton blouse that showcased a hint of cleavage. I hid my smirk as his eyes tracked my loose-limbed movements. Men were so damn predictable.
He shifted his weight as I drew closer, but I had to give him credit for not retreating. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I leaned into him and let my breasts graze his chest. I ignored the tightening in my nipples, intent on teaching him a lesson.
“You know what, Troy?” I said in my sexiest voice, noting with satisfaction at the way his eyes darkened. Raising myself on my toes, I brought my lips a hairsbreadth away from his and whispered, “You’re absolutely right.”
“Yeah?” His voice like rough gravel, he dropped his gaze to my lips.
Channeling my inner slut, I let my tongue peek out just the slightest bit and stroked my right hand down his chest. I felt his taut muscles ripple subtly under my touch. His breathing grew heavy and deep as I crept closer to the waistband of his trousers. I paused when I felt the coldness of his belt buckle.
“Yeah,” I breathed and slid my hand to cover the front of his pants. I barely managed to suppress my gasp when I felt his heated thickness under my palm. Mio Dio, the man was blessed. I squeezed his cloth-covered shaft and shivered as he swelled in my hand.
“Jesus.” He rolled his hips and I spread my fingers to cup him intimately.
“I want to take your delicious cock into my mouth and suck until you beg for mercy.” I stroked my hand along his length.
He groaned as if he were being tortured and his penis jumped in my palm. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust as they laser beamed on my mouth.
I dropped my voice into a huskier register. “But that’s not all. I want to ride this cock until we both come so hard we forget our names.” I squeezed his member and his breathing grew choppy. “Then I want you to fuck me from behind…hard and fast because I’d be so wet for you. You’d feel so thick and hard.” I let out a low moan, as if I were aroused by the thought of him driving into me and to my shock and dismay, I was.
Face tight with lust, Troy murmured, “I’d be in so deep, baby.”
My vaginal passage clenched hungrily, releasing a gush of moisture, signaling its readiness to be penetrated.
Panic built in my stomach. What had started out as a game had morphed into something else. Something I hadn’t anticipated. I wanted to scuttle back, but I forced myself to stay the course and finish what I set out to do.
Hardening my eyes and my voice, I said harshly, “But I’m not a child who can’t control her impulses, Mr. Weston. I don’t blindly do what my body tells me to do. As I stated earlier, I don’t want to play your games. I have neither the time nor the patience for a bed-hopping Casanova in my life. I’m not going to endanger my job for a quick fuck. I am sure there are plenty of women who would welcome your attention. I’m not one of them.”
I waited for my words to sink and for comprehension to dawn in his eyes before I removed my hand from his groin and stepped back. I flexed my fingers, trying to erase the memory of the warm weight of him.
Bracing myself for his rage to erupt, I held my body tensely.
A series of emotions passed over his face: disbelief, frustration, and anger. But then his eyes twinkled and he grinned broadly, showing off perfectly straight teeth.
I gaped at the display of mirth. This man never reacted the way I expected. I had teased and aroused him to the point of pain and he still found humor in the situation. Any other man would have been cussing me out.
“Baby, since you’ve handled my cock with such expertise, I insist you call me Troy.”
His levity made me snarl in aggravation.
“As for not wanting my attention, that’s only because you don’t know me yet.”
“I don’t want to know you.”
“I’m surprised at you, Elle. You don’t seem like a close-minded individual.” His admonishing tone was ruined by the twitch of his lips.
“You don’t know me at all.” I wanted to tear my hair out. How could I have a conversation with someone who didn’t take anything seriously?
“That’s my point exactly. We should get to know each other before we make judgments.” He sobered and took a step closer to me. “I’m sorry for what I said that night. My remarks were uncalled for. Why don’t I pick you up for dinner tomorrow night and we can start over again?”
“No,” I said fi
rmly and shook my head for emphasis.
“Why not?”
Exasperated, I bit out, “Mr. Weston, I’m not going to go out with you for many reasons. None of which I care to discuss. Now will you please tell me what report you need from Cora?”
I could already see the argument forming on his lips and I raked my fingers through my hair, yanking on a few strands in frustration. He was tenacious, I’d give him that, but I was no pushover.
“Troy? What are you doing here?”
At the sound of Cora’s voice, I looked up to see her standing at the top of the stairs, a bright-eyed Aiden clinging to her leg. She gazed at us curiously and I wondered how much of our conversation she had heard.
God, what if she saw me fondling Troy’s crotch? I fought the tide of red stealing into my cheeks.
“Unca Toy!” Aiden cried out excitedly.
“Hey, little buddy.” He grinned at his nephew, affection written all over his face.
Now that I saw them in the same room, I must have been blind to have missed the resemblance. Aiden might physically look like his father, but the gleam of mischief in his eyes was unmistakably inherited from his uncle.
“Mr. Weston is here to pick up a report.” Grasping gratefully at the opportunity to escape Troy Weston’s presence, I started up the stairs. “Why don’t I change Aiden while you get it for him?”
Cora nodded.
I scooped Aiden into my arms. He was still warm from his nap and I cuddled him close. As Cora made her way downstairs, he wiggled to get down to follow and I tightened my hold.
“Kiddo, let’s get you changed and then we’ll go see your uncle, okay?” I darted a glance at Troy and the arrested expression on his face made my stomach flutter. Hastily, I looked away and carried Aiden into his room.
I dawdled, taking my sweet time, hoping that Troy would be in a hurry to get back to the office after he got his report, but I was doomed to disappointment. He was sprawled comfortably on the leather sofa talking to Cora when I walked in with Aiden.
As soon as I set him on his feet, Aiden ran to his uncle. Troy picked him up and kissed his cheek.
