Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance

by Michelle M. Pillow

  ‘I’m out,’ Zoe called.

  Jackson came from the closet to see her standing in his bathroom doorway. His shirt fell to her thighs. She’d rolled it at the cuffs and fastened it all the way up to the very top button.

  ‘Would you like that tour?’ Jackson offered, though he really didn’t want to show her much more than his bed at the moment.

  ‘It’s been a long day. I want to rest.’ She glanced nervously at his door. ‘Um, is it always this quiet out here? I can’t get used to it. My ears keep straining for noises to block out so I can sleep. Instead, it’s nothing but silence and bugs so my mind stays awake.’

  ‘I have a television. Will that help? This is the only room with it, though. I mean, if you don’t mind sleeping in my room.’ He crossed to the armoire and opened it to show her the widescreen television.

  ‘Would you think me a big wussy if I didn’t want to be alone out here?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Jackson turned on the television, hiding his smile. He understood that she was used to the city. In fact, he was just the opposite. All the noise when he stayed in the city made him edgy and nervous. ‘I don’t have many channels, but there are some movies you can flip through.’ He pushed a few buttons on the remote before handing it to her.

  Zoe climbed onto his bed to lie against a stack of his thick pillows. Her gorgeous legs sprawled forward and it took all his willpower just to sit next to her on the bed and not touch her. What was it about her that made him lose all his confidence and charm? He felt like a teenager, sitting next to a girl he liked, desperate to know if she liked him back, agonizing over every move and word, when really all he wanted was to start kissing her legs and work his way up to taste her pussy.

  ‘Call me Jackson,’ he said, tearing his eyes from her feet.

  She gave a small laugh at the request but nodded. ‘All right, Jackson.’

  He pretended to watch the screen as she flipped through movie titles. ‘You said you were celebrating tonight. What happened today?’

  Zoe made a weak noise. ‘Oh, it’s … you’ll think I’m silly.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘I sold some of my specials tonight.’ She looked at him through her lashes.

  ‘More of that salsa? Roger was raving about your salsa the other day when I ran into him on my way out of town.’

  ‘It wasn’t salsa!’ Zoe exclaimed. ‘It was gazpacho.’

  ‘He said it was good. Isn’t that what matters?’

  ‘Well, today I sold specials that were eaten like they were meant to be,’ she said. ‘So you were gone this last week? I wondered why you didn’t stop by the restaurant.’

  Jackson slowly moved his way closer to her without making it obvious. ‘Did you look for me?’

  ‘Oh, look, I love this movie, have you seen it?’ Zoe lifted her arm and pushed a button. He caught a glimpse of a foreign title, but couldn’t read the words. ‘I hope you don’t mind subtitles, because it’s in French.’

  Jackson really doubted he could concentrate enough to read anything at the moment. His cock throbbed and he adjusted his hips as he lay back on the pillows. The soft feathers of his comforter molded to the backs of his legs. ‘Are you avoiding the question?’

  ‘What question?’

  ‘Did you look for me this week when I was gone?’ Why was he probing? Insecurity wasn’t like him.

  ‘I wondered,’ she answered, as if carefully weighing her words. ‘It is your restaurant after all.’

  ‘So you didn’t miss me?’ Damn! He’d done it again.

  ‘I was, ah, too busy to notice. I spend all day in the kitchen cooking for your customers.’ Her tone changed ever so slightly. ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘My nephew had a birthday party. My sister packed a lunch and we took him to Columbia to the zoo. From there I flew to Seattle.’

  ‘Oh? New project?’ She glanced at him.

  ‘I thought there might be, but didn’t like the terms. I passed.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. They’ll call back in a week and give me what I want.’

  This time she looked fully at him. ‘And what is it you want?’

  You. Jackson shook the answer from his thoughts, instead saying, ‘Creative freedom to do things the way they should be done. I’ve been in the business too long to have my hands tied by businessmen who think they know the market because they took a college course ten years ago.’

  ‘They’d be foolish not to listen to you.’ Zoe turned her attention back to the screen. ‘Everything you touch turns to crème brûlée.’

  At that he laughed. ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘Please. Have you ever had a business fail?’ She shot him a challenging stare.

  ‘Business, no.’ He glanced toward the television. Opening credits waved over the screen, flashing between images of a river. He hoped she didn’t ask about his personal life.

  ‘I went to your New York restaurants. The fine-dining, elegant ones are great, but the truth is the train-themed one is my favorite. I loved how you had it set up like a luxury dining car from the early 1900s.’

  ‘Ah, the Railroad.’ He nodded. ‘We came up with it because of the space. With traffic patterns we knew the location was perfect, but the building was very narrow. Most of the decor came from an actual old dining car.’

  ‘Your visions are truly magnificent.’ She gave a shy smile and turned her attention away from him. A slight flush crept over her cheeks. ‘And I’m not just saying that to kiss your ass. I mean it.’

  As the opening credits rolled by, the soft music faded into melodic whispers. The foreign words meant nothing beyond the rise and fall of their rhythm on screen. Zoe laughed at something one of the actors said and he automatically smiled on hearing the light sound. Her lips parted slightly as she stared forward, a half smile curving her mouth as she watched the show.

  Jackson rested his hand to the side, brushing it up against hers. At the touch, she turned to him. Her wide eyes took his in and drew him forward. She glanced away. He’d seen the shy look on her face before.

  ‘How can a woman as beautiful as you be so shy?’ he asked, not pulling back.

  ‘I had two beautiful older sisters. Megan had that mysterious, dominant thing guys were attracted to. Kat was the free spirit and I …’

  ‘And you,’ he prompted.

  ‘Well, I just kind of faded into the background. I turned to books.’ When she looked up at him again, the corner of her lips curved upward. The look nearly drove him mad with desire.

  All voices in his head died as he moved to kiss her and when she met his lips, not protesting, his hands sprang into action. He ran his palm up her thigh, pushing up the shirttail, needing to know if she wore panties underneath. When his fingers met the wet folds of her naked, exposed pussy, he groaned. Zoe arched into his hand, sinking down on the bed so she lay more beneath him than beside him.

  Jackson explored her sex, parting the velvet folds with his finger to discover her hard clit waiting for him. She tugged at his shirt and he let her undress him. As he threw the shirt aside, he grabbed the sides of the designer shirt she wore and ripped it apart to bare her breasts. Buttons flew but he didn’t care. He’d gladly ruin a million shirts in order to touch her naked flesh as he’d been dreaming of doing for days.

  Kissing a trail down her chest, he forced her legs open. She made a weak noise and her legs tensed as if she wanted to protest at what he was doing. Much stronger than she, he pushed her legs further apart and licked her pussy. The sweet taste exploded in his mouth and soon he was probing deep inside. He reached for her breast, massaging it as he dined on her sex.

  His aching cock needed attention so he braced his weight on his knees and reached down between his thighs to free it. The waistband of his pyjama pants slid down over his ass, leaving it naked. Zoe tensed, crying out as she came against his lips, flooding him with her essence. With her taste on his mouth, he surged forth, bringing himself between her thighs. The h
eat of her pussy met his cock and he gasped as his tip dipped inside her.

  Zoe squirmed, her legs open and inviting. Her attractive body sprawled beneath him – the swell of her breasts, her hard nipples, her wet hair plastered to the side of her stunning face. Jackson tried to hold back, knowing he couldn’t let this go any further until he’d put on a condom.

  Zoe reached her legs around his hips and pulled him to her. His cock inched deeper, the warm heat unlike anything he’d experienced before. He’d always been responsible when it came to sex but the wet heat, uninhibited by latex, made him throw caution to the wind. He had to fill it fully, at least once. Jackson thrust, filling her to the brink with his cock. Tight, moist, velvety soft heat surrounded him. He tried to pull out, but found himself thrusting forward. Each time he said just once more and each time he found himself pushing back into her blissful hold.

  Zoe’s legs dropped to the backs of his thighs, her toes curling against him. She clawed at his chest, digging her fingers into his flesh as she came a second time. Fiery tension built in his gut and he groaned, having enough presence of mind to pull out as he came onto his comforter.

  Zoe moaned, her body sated. Jackson fell next to her on the bed, untangling himself from her thighs to pull her into his arms. As she’d showered, she’d thought of being with him in a bed. Not that the forest and kitchen hadn’t held some element of fun, but there was something to be said for a soft, warm bed and the security of four walls.

  Kissing her temple, he whispered, ‘I’m sorry, I should have treated you better.’

  She snuggled against him, loving the feel of his naked skin against hers – so intimate, so unlike the other times. Her mouth opened to answer, wanting to tell him that it was all right, that next time he disappeared for a week just to tell her before he left. She didn’t get the chance. His words interrupted her.

  ‘I promise, next time I’ll use a condom.’

  Chapter Seven

  ZOE AWOKE TO the sound of a phone ringing. Sunlight streamed in from outside, too golden to be much later than early morning. Birds sang, their song filtering through the open window. She stretched her arms, skimming them over the soft mattress and feather comforter. Jackson wasn’t on the bed, but she could hear his voice from inside the bathroom.

  ‘I’m sorry you were worried, Marta. Some guys flew in with me from Seattle and I needed Chef Matthews to cook this weekend since she’s off at the diner. It was late and I didn’t want to wake you,’ ‘Actually, you could do me a favor. She needs clothes. Would you mind packing a few outfits for her? Yes, thank you, Marta. I’ll be by later this morning to pick them up. Yes, I’m sure my associates will be very pleased with her cooking. I know, muddy feet. I’ll be sure to warn Rita about that. OK, Marta. All right. I have to go, they’re waiting for me.’

  Jackson appeared in the bathroom doorway, already dressed. The flat-front khaki trousers hugged his trim waist. A white undershirt showed along the open collar of the button-down dress shirt. Light-blue faded stripes ran vertically over the white linen. He’d showered and shaved. His short brown locks were combed neatly back to dry.

  ‘Morning.’ Suppressing a yawn, she gave a slight smile.

  ‘Morning. I have a web conference in fifteen minutes down in my office. Feel free to wander around the rest of the house and grounds. The housekeepers will be here soon. If they inquire, you stayed in the Charleston suite. It’s the blue room right down the hall on the other side of the house. I messed up the bed to make it look like you slept there.’

  ‘Oh.’ Zoe’s smile faded as she hugged the comforter tightly to her chest. ‘OK.’

  Jackson crossed to his closet and came out holding some clothes. ‘I found these. The jeans belong to my sister. She left them last time she stayed.’ He set them on the end of the bed. ‘If you’re hungry, help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. I should be done in a couple hours.’ Jackson leant over, gave her a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth and left. The subtle hint of his cologne stayed behind.

  She slid out of bed. Her stiff legs made it hard to walk as she stumbled to the bathroom. Since her hair was damp when she’d fallen asleep, it now stuck up over her head at odd angles. Zoe immediately began smoothing it, as if by doing so she could change the fact that Jackson had seen her all messy just moments before.

  Thinking of him, she stopped. What did he mean by hiding what they’d done? Logically, she could assume he didn’t want anyone in his small town to know about them. Though whether that was for her reputation or his, she didn’t know. A tiny whisper came from the back of her mind, saying that in truth he was ashamed to be with her, embarrassed, so instead he lied and told everyone she was the help. Or had he planned all along for her to come to his house to cook for his business guests? Were they even now sleeping in some of the guest rooms? Blushing, she tried to remember if she’d made much noise the night before.

  Unsure how much time she had before the housekeepers arrived, she turned on the shower. The easiest way to do her hair was to start from scratch. She wasn’t sure what Jackson had planned, but by his words to Marta it looked like he wanted her to stay the entire weekend.

  As the water hit her skin, she wished her sister were with her in Dabery. She could really use Kat’s judgment on the situation. Zoe didn’t know the first thing about conducting a casual relationship where love and sex were separate entities. Already she felt her heart being pulled into the mix. But were her feelings genuine or was it just because she’d allowed him to sleep with her? There was no way to call her sister for quick advice on how to handle this weekend. Zoe had left her cell phone at the restaurant, in the desk.

  ‘Don’t think of the future, just take it as it comes,’ she told herself, hoping that was the advice Kat would have given her because it was what she was going to try and do. ‘No point in looking for trouble, because trouble always has a way of finding me on its own.’

  ‘Are you enjoying your stay in Winterwood?’ asked Rita, a stout woman with a cheery disposition. Her identical twin sister, Rachel, looked at Zoe expectantly. The women wore charcoal-gray slacks and white, short-sleeved shirts.

  Zoe raised an eyebrow at the housekeepers. ‘I thought I was in the Charleston suite.’

  Rachel laughed. ‘The plantation – Winterwood.’

  ‘Named because of the old, dead trees that populate part of the land,’ Rita added. ‘There will always be plenty of heat in the winter because of them.’

  ‘Not that it matters now. Winterwood has central heating and air now,’ Rachel said.

  Zoe smiled. The housekeepers were friendly, once they had learnt she was in the kitchen to cook and not order them around. Every modern appliance was hidden beneath a period look – from the brick oven taking up the majority of the wall to the nickel-plated turn-of-the-century range with the words ‘Glenwood Home Grand’ embossed on the front door.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Rachel pointed at the range. ‘It’s been converted. Works perfectly.’ Then she crossed over to a cabinet and pulled open the door to show Zoe the microwave. ‘Here’s this if you need it.’

  Zoe wrinkled her nose. She avoided microwaves whenever she could. About all it was good for was melting things.

  The housekeepers left, carrying window-cleaning fluid and dusting rags. Zoe pulled at her borrowed pants. They were rolled at the waist to keep them up. Jackson’s T-shirt would have fitted him, but hung loosely on her thinner frame. A white phoenix, wings spread, had been airbrushed over the black material.

  Too preoccupied to cook breakfast, she helped herself to a demitasse cup of coffee from the antique gold vacuum coffee brewer. The brewer was mounted on an Italian marble base and adorned with hand-cut crystal with a matching creamer, sugar pot and golden spoon.

  Everything in Jackson’s home bespoke perfection and taste. Many of the rooms had wood fireplaces, from the guest rooms to the dining room. The minimalist approach to decorating made the home uncluttered, but the pieces that were there were stunning in thei
r elegance. Antiques and replicas made her feel like a lady of the estate, or perhaps even some Southern belle. She could easily see grand parties in the front hall, or formal dinners at the large wooden table with gentlemen in suits and ladies in hoop skirts, carrying delicate fans.

  Taking her cup with her, she went to the covered walkway next to the kitchen. Large ferns hung in the windows. Seeing a door to the backyard, she found herself walking outside, onto the stone porch. It wrapped around the side of the center section with a balustrade along the edge. Stone stairs led down into a fairy-tale garden. Manicured shrubbery, magnolia and cypress trees and flowers encased benches, statues and fountains. The ruins of a brick wall provided the perfect anchor for some vines. Walking paths wove along them, disappearing behind flowering bushes.

  ‘There you are.’

  Zoe turned on her way down the steps, shading her eyes as she looked up at Jackson. He’d unbuttoned and untucked his shirt, letting it hang open over the white T-shirt. Even casual, he looked like a man of power and influence. ‘Business all done?’

  ‘For today.’ He smiled. The morning sun shone on the brown waves of his short hair. ‘Did you get breakfast?’

  ‘Wasn’t hungry.’ She held up the demitasse cup. ‘Found the coffee.’

  ‘I have bigger mugs.’

  ‘Was I not supposed to use these?’ She looked down at the nearly empty cup. ‘I’m sorry, the housekeepers said I could help myself to it. I didn’t think to –’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he interrupted, chuckling. Jackson joined her on the steps, glancing back toward his home before cupping her jaw and leaning in to give her a quick kiss. He held her face in his hand for a brief moment. ‘Good morning, Zoe.’

  ‘Morning,’ she said, feeling breathless.