Going to the cupboard, she pulled out two mugs and placed them down before fetching the tea bags. The whole scene felt so odd, so awkward, they needed to clear the air, but she did not know how.
After she poured the water into the cups, she stood stirring them. He came to her and put his arms around her, drawing her close to him.
For a moment she stood stiffly, keeping herself together, then her body went limp, and she burst into tears, his strong arms supporting her as she sobbed. Gently he turned her around and she rested her head against his chest while he stroked her neck and back until her tears had subsided.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I honestly never meant to hurt you.”
“It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t really know how to be close to someone. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do or say.”
“Is that all? I thought I’d hurt you, or that you regretted giving yourself to me.”
“No,” she said firmly, her face still hidden from him. “That is one thing I will never regret.”
“Good, because I really thought you wanted me to leave.”
Her fingers pressed firmly against his warm skin, possessively holding him against her. “No, that's the last thing I want.”
He held her close, the warmth of his body reassuring. She was so mixed up about what had happened. Frightened she would say the wrong thing and make him leave, but holding him gave her comfort.
“Come on, drink your tea, it will make you feel better.”
Charles picked up the two mugs, managing to carry them in one hand while holding hers tightly and led her to the shabby sofa. He did not seem at all fazed by her apartment, and sat down, pulling her gently to sit next to him.
He sipped his tea, and then said, “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, and then I’ll tell you about me if you like.”
“There's not much to tell,” she said.
Anita hated talking about her life; most people avoided her when they knew she had not had a conventional upbringing. All her life other kids were prone to shunning her when they knew she came from a foster home.
“I’d still like to know, it’s probably a lot more interesting than mine.”
“I doubt it, you're a billionaire. How much better does it get than that?”
“Money's not everything,” he replied. “It comes with a great deal of responsibility.”
Anita had never thought about it like that, when the other kids had laughed at her for never having designer wear, or the latest gadget, she had always dreamed of being one of the rich kids.
“How did you make your money?” she asked, much preferring to talk about his life.
“I didn’t, at least not all of it. My dad made his money in real estate, he worked hard, he and my mom. They rode the wave and it worked for a long time. When I was sixteen he got me involved, it wasn’t my thing really. But it was expected. You know how parents can be.”
She answered before she even thought about what she was saying. “No, I don’t. I can’t remember my mom, and I never knew who my dad was.”
“Oh, honey. I had no idea. That must be incredibly tough.” His arm tightened around her.
“I guess. I don’t know any different. But growing up, seeing other kids with their parents, especially this time of year...” Her voice trailed off as she remembered how excited other kids got around this time of year. Her various foster parents had been kind, she had never gone without presents, but it was not the same.
The older she got the more she noticed it. Then she had left her foster parents and gone to live on her own, and Christmas had become the worst time of year. She never really felt part of the festivities, this year she had hoped it would be different, but so much for her new start.
“You grew up in the city?” he asked.
“No. I only moved here two months ago. New job, new start. But I think after last night I might have stepped on a few too many toes. I don’t think Rochelle is going to make things easy for me.”
“I’m sorry if I made things worse,” he said looking a little sheepish.
“Don’t be stupid. I mean, it was me who lied to her in the first place. It was kind of you to pretend like that.”
“But it’s not so pretend now is it?” Charles said, making her heart beat wildly in her chest. “Anita. Look at me. You have this habit of trying to avoid me. I find it most off putting. Most women chase me, but not you. I need to hear what you want from this relationship.”
“Relationship,” she repeated. “Is that what we have?”
“I thought it was. Or did you just want me for sex?”
His words broke her mood, and she burst out laughing, nearly spilling her half empty mug. As she looked at it, she turned her thoughts around. For once, her mug was half full.
There was a knock at the door, saving her from having to find an answer. She got up, and he followed. It was their food, but she was shocked to see it was not a take out; it was from one of the best, most exclusive restaurants in the city. She looked at him astonished.
He paid the bill, and tipped the guy who had brought it, even though she guessed from his face that he was not normally expected to be a delivery boy. They took the food to the kitchen, Anita set about getting plates and cutlery ready, while he went to put a shirt on. He had insisted she stayed in her robe.
When he returned she was putting the mouth watering food on plates. The smell was incredible, the whole lot, including a bottle of very expensive bottle of wine must have cost a fortune.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said.
“Yes, I did. Anyway, we had reservations there. It seemed only right to order something.”
“I thought it took months to get a table at a restaurant like that.”
“It does. Unless you’re Charles Whitmore.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, and he laughed. “Seriously, when you’re one of the richest men in the city, certain doors are always open to you.”
“Wow. Things like that really happen?”
“You have no idea.”
They had moved to sit at the little table, something she barely used. Dinner on her lap with the TV on was the norm for Anita. Sitting here eating a meal with a man was something she had never done. It made the evening feel special, although they had not even gone out.
“How big is your family?” Anita asked him between mouthfuls of the wonderful food.
“I have two sisters, one is married and has a baby, and the other is at university. My mom and dad live in the house I grew up in. To be honest I lived there until I was twenty five, it seemed ridiculous to move out when I was working so many hours and only needed somewhere to sleep. My parents didn’t mind, I think they like having us all around. Now the baby's come along, they are enjoying being grandparents.”
“You're a close family by the sound of it.”
“Yes. You don’t mind me talking about them?”
“No, not at all. To be honest I’m sometimes fascinated by what other people find normal about their family. To me it’s extraordinary.”
“Well, my mom would bore you with pictures and stories about her kids. She’s a real homemaker. She worked hard with my dad until we came along. It was only when things started going badly and they risked losing everything she went back to work with him. She’s a smart lady.”
“And they turned things around?”
“Sort of. When I went to work with them things were going down hill. The property crash was upon them. As I said, real estate was never really my thing. I got them to invest in technology instead. Meant they didn’t have all their eggs in one basket. It paid off, big time. So that's where my money came from.”
“No wonder they let you live at home so long,” Anita said.
“I know they were grateful. But I owed them so much, they taught me to think big, and not to be afraid of doing things differently. It means I’m not restricted in what I do.”
“Like pretending you were my boyfriend?”
“Yes, exactly. Try it out, see if it works, and if you fail, you get back up and try again. That’s what they taught me.”
Anita fell silent, thinking over what he had said. She couldn’t imagine how different her life would be if she had had supportive parents. All through school, she had worked hard because she knew there would only be herself to depend on. Yet it had meant she played it safe repeatedly. No risks.
Shaking off her thoughts she told him, “This food is delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t get special treatment for who I am, or I don’t take advantage of it.” He put his knife and fork down, having finished his. “In truth the restaurant belongs to a school friend. I loaned him some money to set it up.”
“I see. I’m disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing what it’s like in the world of Charles Whitmore.”
“Does that mean you’re going to go out with me? By that I mean really out with me, as in leaving your apartment?”
“If you really want me to. I still don’t get it though. Why you want to date me?”
He got up and came around the table to rest against it, looking down at her. “I want to date you because you’re real. There's no pretence, no expectations. You didn’t even know who I was.”
“There was a tiny bit of pretence.”
“You know what I mean.” He leaned forward and kissed her, his hand sliding into her robe to stroke her breast. Now she knew why he had insisted she left it on, easy access for his warm hands.
Briefly, she worried that she tasted of the garlic that had smothered her chicken, but as his thumb brushed over her nipple, she didn’t care. All she wanted was for him to take her back to the bedroom and make love to her again.
He must have read her mind because he moved away and pulled her up from the chair, walking back to the bedroom with her following. In the small room she found the courage to lift his shirt and pull it over his head. She then set about kissing his chest, her tongue rolling over his nipple, and enjoyed the way he moved. His arousal becoming ever obvious by the bulge in his jeans.
While her mouth still worked on kissing every inch of his well toned chest, her hands moved down to undo his belt. She could not resist touching his hard length, still hidden in his jeans, running her hand along it, and feeling him pressing against her. Curling her fingers around his cock she teased him until his hips were thrusting up, pushing himself into her hand.
He fought to control himself while she continued to tease him in her naive way. She wanted to undo his jeans and let them drop to the floor, to feel him in her hands, rigid and erect in anticipation of the pleasure he would take from her curvy body. In that moment she realised how much more confident she felt having someone desire her, faults and all.
In her need to show him how much she appreciated him she undid his jeans, and took him firmly in her hand, hearing his breath hiss through his teeth at the feel of her skin on his. Slowly she ran her hand up and down him, feeling his body tense.
His hand slid around her neck, stroking her hair and over her shoulders. He never asked her, but she knew what he wanted, she was not so naive that she did not know what a blowjob was, she simply had never given one.
Tentatively she took the head of his cock in her warm wet mouth. Charles took a jagged breath, and pushed forward a little, wanting her to take more. Feeling his need, she slid her mouth over him, sucking and rolling her tongue over the head of his cock.
His hands moved to her breasts and massaged them while she moved her head up and down, struggling to concentrate on her rhythm when his hands were doing such wonderful things to her body.
Over and over, she bobbed her head up and down, experimenting by sucking harder, running her teeth lightly along his length and swirling her tongue over the head of his cock. Anita enjoyed finding out that when she did something he liked, his hands became firmer, playing with her nipples, and when he lost control he pinched them, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send exquisite jolts of electricity through her body.
His climax surprised her, his thick seed filling her mouth. A moment of fleeting panic passed over her and then she remembered to swallow, and although he tasted strange, she managed not to gag. His hips thrust forward; he took control of his orgasm, teaching her what he liked, until he was completely spent.
“Oh! That was good,” he said, pulling slowly out of her mouth.
She managed to smile at him, and then headed for the bathroom. When she returned, she thought he might have laughed at her. Her inexperience had shown again. Instead, he was waiting for her in bed, eager to please her.
He was sitting up, his back resting against the headboard. The sheets were pulled back, and she could see his cock, now limp in his lap. Holding his hand out he helped her into bed, getting her to kneel.
“Slide your leg over me. I’m going to return the favour until I’m ready again.”
She straddled him, not sure what he intended, but Charles had plenty of ideas. He lifted her so she was kneeling up, and then slid his body down lower so that his mouth covered her sex. His finger pushed inside her, and penetrated her deeply, and then he slid another one in, stretching her. His tongue licked her clit, finding a rhythm that matched his fingers.
Anita could never have believed a man could give so much satisfaction with his mouth. But Charles had a gift, she wanted it to go on forever, his tongue rasping over her clit until it pulsed as though it had a life of its own. All the while his fingers worked in and out of her, he explored her, changing the angle until at last he hit the spot he had been searching for.
Her world exploded, and she thrust her mound forward, pressing down on his fingers at the same time. She whimpered before finally crying out as her orgasm rocked her body. Her fingers curling around the edge of the headboard, digging into it as she came.
Tears filled her eyes as her climax finally subsided, her body a mass of over sensitive nerves, but he was not ready to let her go. He was hard again now, he guided her down onto his stiff cock, and inch by inch, she took him in her already wet sex. He had made her ready for him, and his hands on her hips guided her in a slow rhythm, made more incredible by her already sensitive state.
When she had learned how to move on him he slid one hand down so his thumb rested against her clit, brushing against her every time she lowered herself down onto his cock. His mouth latched onto her breast, and her senses were well and truly overwhelmed.
He guided her to circle her hips, while moving up and down, and she closed her eyes to take in everything he was doing to her. Her stamina had increased, her earlier release having let out her pent up nerves.
For the first time in her life she was enjoying sex, finding what her body craved, and Charles, an ever willing partner, helped her fulfil her need until she cried out again in ecstasy.
He came too, filling the condom with his seed, lifting his hips to meet her with short hard thrusts. His voice mingled with hers, until they were spent, and it no longer mattered who they were or what their lives had been up to this point, all that mattered was that they had found each other.
Chapter Five
Monday morning found Anita sat at her desk early; she had struggled to sleep, dreading having to face everyone. It would be easier if she was already there working rather than having to walk in past everyone and their sidelong looks and gossip.
Because they would be gossiping about her. She was sure many of them must have seen through the little act at the party, and she had no way of proving that she really was going out with Charles Whitmore. In truth, even she had trouble getting her head round it.
She looked up just in time to see Rochelle walking in; the look they exchanged did not bode well for her relationship with her co-workers. Lowering her gaze a little, she watched surreptitiously as Rochelle walked over to Samantha. They engaged it a brief conversation, and more than once Rochelle's eyes flicked over to Anita.
There was nothing for it than to keep he
r head down and work hard, avoiding everyone as much as possible. This was a great plan, but eventually she needed a coffee break, her concentration was slipping, and so she got up.
Almost instantly, Rochelle left her seat, and went to the lounge, Anita found it a little amusing that she must have been waiting the whole morning for this confrontation.
At first Rochelle seemed to be ignoring her, it was only when there was no one else there that she rounded on Anita.
“I don’t know what that was at the party, but you can’t fool me. There is no way a man like Charles Whitmore would go out with someone like you.”
“Really, Rochelle. I thought you were interested in Stan, if I didn’t know better I would say you were jealous of someone like me.” Even Anita was shocked by the way she spoke. One thing for sure, having Charles in her life, and in her bed, had given her a confidence she had never had before.
“Jealous. No. But I don’t like being made a fool of, and that's what you’ve tried to do to all of us. What is he a friend of a friend? Did you beg him to be your “date”?”
Part of Anita felt a pang of guilt, Rochelle was not far wrong. Only pure luck had led her to Charles on the night of the party, if she hadn't met him then they would have discovered her lie sooner or later. However, she was sick and tired of having to put up with women like Rochelle treating her like a piece of dirt.
“Rochelle, I resent the fact that you are calling me a liar. Charles Whitmore and I are very much an item.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have seen pictures of the kind of women he usually dates.” Here Rochelle looked Anita up and down as though she were the most distasteful thing on the planet. “And you are not it.”
Tears threatened Anita, how dare Rochelle speak to her like this? Maybe she was not the sexiest woman on the planet, and yes, she carried too much weight, but that did not make her worth any less as a person. However, she managed to control her emotions, swallowing her tears, but not her pride.
“I feel sorry for you Rochelle.” Anita paused; Samantha had come into the lounge to see what was going on. However, Anita was determined to finish her sentence. “You must be a very insecure person to be so mean to another woman. Please keep your opinions to yourself; my private life is none of your business.”
Christmas Curves (BBW Erotic Romance) Page 4
