by Ciana Stone
Suddenly she felt something pushing at the opening of her sex. Something big and hot. His hands gripped her thighs as he buried his cock inside her. One hand moved between her legs to caress her clit as he stroked in and out of her pussy.
She couldn’t stop the orgasm that claimed her. Everything succumbed at once, pussy, ass and clit all clenched and she fell into a well of pure sensation. When it suddenly vanished, she opened her eyes.
And found herself gripping the doorframe, her pussy still clenching from the orgasm as she stared up into Maxwell’s eyes. Shame forced her to drop her eyes. All she could do was hope that whatever had just happened, she’d not done anything to embarrass herself. She wanted to turn and run, but saw no way to do that and save face, so she cleared her throat and focused her eyes on his chin.
“Hi, I just got here and wanted to say hello. Am I bothering you?”
He shook his head no.
“Well, I was just getting familiar with the place and wondered if you wanted to show me around?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged. Nikki thought it was sort of a strange response. Did he or didn’t he? She wasn’t sure.
“Your mother mentioned that you have tennis courts. I’m not exactly what you’d call a good player, but if you’re interested, I’d be willing to try. Could you tell me where the courts are?”
Maxwell was still for a moment, then stuck his arm out of the door and pointed to one side of the house. Nikki found that odd. Why didn’t he just tell her? Maybe she was wrong and he was a lot worse off than she thought. Before she could say anything else he closed the door in her face.
“What a start,” she said to herself as she walked away. She didn’t know what was worse, that she’d had an orgasm while he stood there watching or him being so odd and uncommunicative. Either way, it wasn’t what anyone could call a great start to her new job.
She just had to make a point not to look him in the eye. She couldn’t take a chance on a repeat performance of what had just occurred. Shame had her pace increasing. God, did he have a clue what had happened? If so how could she ever face him? Running the last few steps, she made it to her room, closed the door and leaned back against it. Safe. At least for the moment.
Now how the hell was she going to make it the rest of the summer?
—
Maxwell watched her hurry off. Had she realized what happened when she came to his door? Thinking that she might made him want to throw himself off the balcony. He tossed the small bag of marbles he’d been clutching onto the bed and put his hands over his face. Good god, what a fantasy.
He needed to get control of this…whatever it was. Second sight, visions, whatever. They’d gotten much stronger since Nikki arrived. He could barely look at her without one taking control.
This one had been the strongest by far. And had definitely put a new spin on the phrase “erotic fantasy”. He’d never had bondage dreams of her before. Not that he didn’t enjoy it. Even now the thought of it made his dick swell.
Had he thought about that kind of stuff before he lost his memory? He’d sure as hell thought about it since being rendered mute and a prisoner. At first it’d bothered him. Was he a freak?
He’d read a lot about it on the Internet and it seemed that there were a lot of people who were into the Dom/sub stuff. At least he wasn’t alone. It was a small comfort to know that he wasn’t abnormal, but simply by nature a dominant.
He snorted silently at the idea. Some dominant he was. He wasn’t even smart enough to figure his way out of the prison that held him. Guess he wasn’t as alpha as he’d like to believe.
And maybe that was the real truth. He just wanted to believe but in reality he was as far from an alpha as could be. Just a weak man who was held prisoner in his parents’ home and couldn’t figure out how to set himself free.
His visions were the only freedom life afforded him. And what visions they were. It made him wonder if in reality Nikki would be so open to such things. He didn’t suppose he’d ever have the chance to find out. By the time he got through testing her, she’d either prove herself to be a drone and turn tail to run, or she’d hate him. Either way, as usual, it was a lose-lose situation for him.
—
At noon Nikki walked out onto the terrace to find a member of the staff setting a table. “Hi.” Nikki walked over to the woman. “Ann, right?”
The woman looked at Nikki and nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Lunch will be served shortly. Osgood said that you’ll be joining the Westons.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess so. Can I help you do anything?
“No, thank you.”
Maxwell walked onto the terrace and stopped when he saw Nikki. Ann immediately gathered up her tray and scurried from the room.
“Hi.” Nikki had decided that she could deal with both Maxwell’s odd behavior and her own faulty judgment in picking men. She just had to remember that he wasn’t normal and she couldn’t expect him to act and react like a normal person. And she had to remember to not look directly into his eyes. She couldn’t afford a repeat performance of what had happened before.
Maxwell looked at her then abruptly looked away.
“I guess your father’s been delayed. Should we wait on him to sit down?”
He didn’t respond or move. Nikki thought it extremely rude for him to not even answer. Richard walked out on the terrace and diverted her attention. “Ah, here you are. Shall we?”
He pulled out a chair for Nikki. She saw the way Maxwell’s eyes narrowed and wondered why the gesture seemed to anger him. Richard ignored Maxwell.
“Have you had an opportunity to familiarize yourself with the estate?”
“No, sir, not yet.” She looked over at Maxwell and smiled. “I was hoping Maxwell would show me around after lunch.”
Maxwell’s eyes darted to his father and then down when Richard looked at him.
“Why don’t you let me give you a tour? Maxwell customarily takes a nap after lunch. It wouldn’t be advisable to disrupt his routine.”
“Oh I’m sorry.” She cut a look at Maxwell, who was studying the table top.
“Nothing to apologize for, my dear. Now, did Osgood get you settled?”
Before the question was out of his mouth, Osgood appeared. Behind him was Ann with a serving cart. Osgood had apparently heard the question and answered for her.
“Ms. Morgan requested to be placed in the west wing, sir.”
Nikki couldn’t help but notice the way Maxwell’s head jerked up to look at her and then his father. Richard didn’t notice Maxwell. His attention was focused on Nikki. She felt suddenly on the spot.
“I thought since Maxwell was in the west wing, it’d be good if I was closer. Is that a problem?”
“No, of course not. Ann, you may serve now.”
Nikki looked over at Maxwell as Ann started serving the plates and handed them to Osgood, who placed them on the table. Maxwell looked at her for a split second then looked away.
Richard sampled a bite of the fish from his plate. “My compliments to the cook, Osgood. The salmon is delicious.”
Nikki looked down at her plate. She hated fish. But how was she going to get out of eating it without drawing attention to herself?
Maxwell solved the problem. He took one look at what was on the plate in front of him, then swiped it off the table, sending it, the silverware and his glass crashing to the tile.
Richard jumped up, cursing as his wineglass shattered against the edge of his plate, spattering him with shards of glass and wine. Nikki made a grab for her glass as it started to sway but was a moment too late. It spilled over into her plate and onto the table.
She grabbed the napkin off her lap and started mopping at the mess. Richard was still cursing as Osgood and Ann fluttered around, attempting to pick up the mess. Nikki looked at Maxwell in shock. Why in the world did he do that?
Maxwell jumped up and ran from the room, colliding with another woman on the staff, Betty, who was rushing in.
The impact sent her sailing backward to land with a loud thump on her backside. He never paused or even looked back but charged right on.
Nikki ran over to help Betty to her feet. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine. Thank you.” Betty straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair.
Nikki was shocked. Why on earth had he acted like that? Before she had time to ask, Louise the housekeeper hurried out. “What on earth’s going on out here?”
Richard threw his soiled napkin down on the table. “Just another episode, Louise.” He looked at Nikki. “My apologies. I assure you this won’t happen again. If you’ll excuse me, I must change. Osgood, a word with you please.”
Nikki was floored by what had just happened. She didn’t understand what had precipitated such behavior. Walking around the mess so as not to step on any glass, she followed Richard and Osgood out of the room. They didn’t notice her as they talked.
“Call Charles Abernathy and ask him to have whatever it is we use to sedate Maxwell sent over. I won’t have him behaving in this manner.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
They sedate him? Nikki wasn’t comforted by the news. Just what exactly was wrong with Maxwell Weston?
Richard headed for the main staircase. Osgood spotted Nikki and remained. She walked over to him. “Excuse me, Mr. Gaynor, but is that typical for Maxwell? I mean what’s wrong with him? If he has that big of a problem wouldn’t it be better if…”
“Miss Morgan, forgive me, but I must remind you that you’re a newcomer to the staff, and have not yet had time to become accustomed to Maxwell’s habits. Whether or not you approve of the manner in which he is treated is of no concern to anyone here. The Westons have standards and orders they expect to be adhered to, and as their employees it is not up to us to question those orders, but to carry them out. Do I make myself clear?”
Nikki was reminded of a sixth grade principal who put her in her place once, in much the same way. In other words, mind your own business.
“Fine. Whatever you say, Mr. Gaynor.”
Going to her suite, she threw herself down across her bed and stared at the ceiling, her hand feeling for the pendants on her chest. It was then she remembered she’d removed them and was keeping them in her pocket. What had just happened?
She closed her eyes, trying to recall every detail. Everything was going fine, as far as she could remember. It was when Maxwell looked at the fish on his plate that he lost it.
Maybe he hates fish as much as I do. She smiled at the thought then immediately sobered. That was no excuse for such behavior, but neither was it justified for his father to curse the way he had, not to mention ordering Osgood to have Maxwell sedated.
What am I doing here? Was it because of Gaspar’s impossible idea that the Westons were hiding something people had been searching for thousands of years, or was it that she thought Christian’s death was somehow tied to Gaspar and the Westons? Was it the task Danu had assigned to her?
Or is it something else, something I don’t even want to admit to myself. Like Maxwell? She hoped it was anything but the latter.
—
Max crouched at the window inside the cabana, watching Nikki on the terrace. She had papers and books spread out on the glass table in front of the lounge, sitting with her legs curled up Indian-style, taking notes.
He hadn’t been able to watch her for nearly two days. The day of the “fish incident”, as he thought of it, Osgood and Steve had shown up in his room with one of the gardeners. At first Maxwell didn’t know what they were there for. It was very clear when Osgood displayed the syringe.
It took Steve and the gardener to hold him down long enough for Osgood to inject him. Max hated it when they drugged him. Whatever the drug was, it knocked him out for hours and then left him with no energy and made it hard to follow a train of thought. In short, it turned him into a zombie.
He’d been out of sight long enough for his father to forget about him and now that the drug had worn off, he could get back to figuring out if Nikki was another of his parents’ drones, or if his initial impression of her had been right and she was different.
He ducked down as Richard walked out onto the terrace then cautiously looked up. His father didn’t see him. Good.
“Well, you seem to be hard at work.” Richard poured himself a drink from the terrace bar then took a seat in a lounge across from Nikki.
She closed the book in her lap and set it aside. “Just research.”
Richard reached out to sift through the papers on the table. “You’re writing it by hand?”
“Oh, well, yeah—sort of. I take notes and compile them by hand and then when I get a chance to get on one of the computers at the university, I key everything in.”
“Seems like an unnecessary waste of time.”
“Sir?”
“I mean doing it by hand and then having to enter it into the computer. Why not just eliminate a step and do it all on the computer?”
“Well, that’d be great if I had a computer, but I don’t, so I make do with what I have.”
Richard leaned forward slightly in his seat. “Why don’t you let me help you? I’d be happy to provide you with everything you need.”
“No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It just wouldn’t be right.”
“Consider it a gift.”
“No thank you.”
Richard stood and moved over beside her. She scooted over to put more room between them. He draped one arm along the back of the sofa. “Nikki, I’d like to.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Weston, but I’m—”
“Call me Richard.” He inched a little closer.
Nikki didn’t consider herself a genius, but it didn’t take one to recognize the look on his face or the tone of his voice. She felt a growing revulsion inside. She hated men who tried to buy people the way they did things, and she especially hated men who thought they could buy sex. She had no doubt that was what was in Richard Weston’s mind, but she had no interest. No matter how much money he had, he didn’t have enough to make her prostitute herself.
“Thank you, but I don’t think that would be appropriate—you being my boss and all. I appreciate the offer but I can’t take it, Mr. Weston. I’m doing fine the way I am. Thanks anyway.”
Richard moved the arm draped on the sofa and brushed his fingers against her arm. “I admire you, Nikki. Your strength and independence are commendable but it never hurts to have friends. I could open doors for you that would otherwise remain closed. All I’m asking is that you let me help you. Is that so much to ask?”
Nikki didn’t want to lose the job but she also wasn’t going to lead him on and let him think she was willing to play his game. The trick was telling him in a way that didn’t get her fired.
“I really appreciate it, Mr. Weston. No one’s ever wanted to help me before, so the offer is really nice. But I need to do things for myself. I know you’re a powerful man with a lot of influence, but I want to get where I’m going on my own. I hope you don’t think me rude, but I just need to earn what I get, instead of having it given to me.”
Richard regarded her for a few moments then smiled. “Commendable, Nikki. I’m impressed. Forgive me if I’ve offended you. I simply want to be your friend.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and started gathering up her things. “Friends are something you can’t have too many of.”
Richard watched as she stacked up her books and papers. “I better get this stuff put away and check on Maxwell.” She turned to leave. “Thanks again, Mr. Weston.”
His voice stopped her. “Perhaps we could have dinner later tonight? I have a meeting late this afternoon but should be back by eight.”
She didn’t turn to face him. How was she going to get out of it? She couldn’t come up with a good excuse. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”
As she hurried from the room, Richard leaned back with a smile.
Inside the c
abana, Maxwell sat back and thought about what he’d just seen. It was clear Richard was trying to get close to Nikki. The idea made his eyes narrow in anger. His father was attracted to Nikki.
And what about her? Did she welcome Richard’s attention? It hadn’t seemed that way. But she’d agreed to have dinner with his father.
Clearly Maxwell needed to be cautious around her until he figured out whose side she was on. As friendly as she seemed to want to be to him, he couldn’t take a chance on letting his guard down around one of his parents’ drones.
Checking to see if the coast was clear, Max snuck out of the cabana and headed for the third floor of the west wing. He needed to consult with his grandfather on how best to find out the truth about Nikki Morgan.
—
Nikki walked into the kitchen as Louise was pouring herself a cup of tea. “Hi, am I intruding?”
Louise turned to look at her. “No, of course not. What can I do for you, Ms. Morgan?”
“Well, aside from calling me Nikki—please—do you think I could grab some fruit or something? I’m kind of hungry.”
“Help yourself.” Louise gestured toward the refrigerator. “But I thought you were dining with Mr. Weston tonight?”
“Oh yeah.” Nikki wished she could be honest and tell the housekeeper that she wasn’t exactly keen on the idea. “But maybe just a snack to tide me over.”
She turned her attention to the contents of the refrigerator and selected a fat nectarine. She took a bite then asked, “Do you know what Maxwell’s doing?”
“Probably in his room tinkering with his electronics.”
Nikki nodded. If only she could come up with a way to get out of dinner with Mr. Weston. She didn’t want to be alone with him. If he put the move on her and she rejected him, he might fire her. And then she’d really be in a fix. No money, no apartment and no job.
Anxiety suddenly robbed her of her appetite. She looked down at the nectarine, which suddenly seemed unappetizing. “Guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought,” she said and put the fruit into the waste bin. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Gaynor. I think I’ll go check on Maxwell.”
