Romance: Luther's Property

by Laurie Burrows

  CHAPTER 7

  Bradley could smell the heavenly scent of Zoey’s cooking as soon as he pulled into the garage. His stomach growled loudly, and he felt a little pool of drool start to form in the corner of his mouth. He had to admit that the girl could cook. He hated eating in his office, but it was the only way he could think of to make sure that she was out of reach of his mood swings and his odd agitation against her. In the house, he heard the music of the reggaeton persuasion playing softly from the kitchen.

  After climbing the stairs he opened the door that led into the kitchen and the sight he saw put a smile on his face. There was Zoey in an adorable navy blue dress and white apron tied over it. She was in her bare feet and was swaying her hips to the rhythm of the music as she cooked. She looked happy and carefree. She looked like she belonged there, in his home. A surge of guilt shot through his heart as he thought of their recent discomfort, and he turned to walk away.

  Before he could, Zoey spotted him and grabbed his arm. She pulled him into the kitchen. “And just where do you think you’re going?” She asked, still holding up his arm and spinning herself around underneath it.

  “Well, I’ve got some stuff to work on, so I was going to go to my office and”-

  “Oh no,” Zoey replied, shaking her head as she continued to dance. “No work tonight. Tonight you and I are going to sit down to dinner again and we are going to talk out what happened the other night. Then if you want we can talk about my case. But first, we get rid of whatever weirdness is between us, okay? You mean a lot to me and I think I mean a lot to you, so I don’t want it here.”

  Bradley panicked at the idea of having to explain himself, and he started to shake his head no. When he did, Zoey suddenly grew serious and turned off her music. As she walked back towards him he saw the stride of a woman, not a little girl, and he knew he was in trouble.

  “Listen, I can make your life really easy, or I can make it really difficult. You want to me to follow you around absolutely everywhere? Simply sitting or standing by watching you relentlessly like a creepy live doll until we talk about this? No? I didn’t think so. So wash your hands and take a seat. Dinner is about ready.”

  Realization of his mistake in thinking that Zoey was still a child or unable to take care of herself suddenly dawned on him. He had been wrong. Stupidly wrong. Obediently he put down his briefcase and walked over to the small sink in the kitchen island to wash his hands. When he was done, he removed his suit jacket and picked out a bottle of wine from the wine cellar.

  When he came back up he saw that Zoey had laid out a beautiful spread of homemade tortillas, salsa, guacamole, steak fajitas, and Spanish rice. It smelled heavenly and tempting looking steam rose from all of the sizzling dishes. Bradley’s stomach grumbled at the sight, and he realized that in his busy schedule he had forgotten to eat that day.

  “Thank you for making this,” he told her, uncorking the wine. It was the first words he had spoken to her since he had asked her to leave his room. He felt that he should be saying much more, but the rest would have to wait until after dinner.

  “You’re very welcome,” she responded, putting two wine glasses on the table. “Now please, let’s eat.”

  Nodding his head, Bradley made his way to the table and poured them each a glass of wine. She was right. It was time to talk. No matter how embarrassed of himself he might be.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I can’t believe you thought that about me,” Zoey whispered, her voice full of sadness.

  “I can’t either honestly. I know that we haven’t got to sit down and get to ‘re’ learn one another yet, but I should have known better that you were nothing like that. Nothing like, well, your mother.” Bradley apologized, yet again.

  As she had suggested, they had sat down and began to discuss the awkward moment they had shared and the unsettling silence since then. Bradley had told her everything, including how ridiculous he felt when he realized that he had made a stupid mistake. He wanted to fix it, and he hoped that she would let him.

  “I really am sorry, Zoey. I know that you didn’t need my old man insecurities, especially with what you’re going through with your ex company and you ex boyfriend right now. I don’t-I can’t even begin to properly explain myself.”

  Zoey picked up her wine glass and swirled the dark red contents around in it, taking in everything that he had just said. She knew that she was going to cut him some slack. After all he was still paying her bills and letting her stay with him, not to mention he was still handling her case that could easily set her up for life. However, it didn’t change the fact that he had basically thought she was a gold digger just because she wanted to kiss him.

  As far as she knew, gold diggers didn’t come crawling for help at their lowest point. No, they came dressed in the tightest man-catching dresses and seduced their ways into bank accounts. She was not that type of woman, and never had been either. It hurt her to think that he had thought she was.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” she said finally, taking a sip of her wine. “We haven’t really gotten to know one another or who we’ve become since we last saw another. Maybe we should fix that.”

  “Yes,” Bradley said, helping himself to some more Spanish rice. “Absolutely, let’s do that. I want to go get to know you better, Zoey. Not just for the case, but for our friendship. All I really remember about you is that you hate dolls and that you were disgusted by pickled relish,” he joked.

  Zoey laughed. “Both are still true actually. The best thing about moving out of mother’s house was the fact that I never had to look at another horrifying porcelain doll again.”

  Bradley grinned, finally feeling comfortable around his lovely younger lady again. “What else?” He asked. “I want more.”

  As the two began to talk, Bradley found out that a lot in Zoey’s life had changed after she moved out of her mother’s house, and even while he had still been married to her. She went through what she called a wild stage her freshman year of college after she turned eighteen. On a whim she and a couple of her girlfriends all went out and got their hair dyed wild colors. She had chosen a light aqua blue, and had loved it. She admitted that from time to time she missed the long blue locks and the fake nose ring she would don to go to class.

  Another surprise was that she had also gotten a tattoo. A small one, on her right butt cheek that he must have missed when he was studying her ass so closely the other day. She claimed that is was no bigger than a kiwi and was a simple black cutout of a cat. She had thought that it suited her best among the array of possibilities, and she had yet to regret her decision. Once she moved out of the freshman dorms and started living off campus, she found her love of cooking and quickly became the house’s unofficial den mother. She cooked the meals, did their laundry, and cleaned up the apartment. In return they all pitched in and paid for rent.

  “It was really nice actually because I didn’t have to get a loan for housing anymore,” she explained, which was a struggle to get each year. She talked about her part time jobs as a TA and a student librarian, and how it gave her the freedom to be basically be paid to study. It was an admission of guilt that she had abused the system, but she didn’t feel guilty about it. After all the school was charging her an outrageous price for admission and she felt as if they owed her a little something for her troubles.

  “I have to say, you’re a little more rebellious than I could have imagined,” Bradley admitted. “However, you could have gone down much darker paths than the ones you chose. I’m proud of you for knowing when to quit.”

  Zoey smiled sadly, playing with her melted puddle of ice cream. “I wish that were even half true. If it was then maybe I wouldn’t be in the position that I’m in now. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to get caught up in this cliché of sleeping with my boss,” she groaned.

  “Yeah, how did that happen anyway?” Bradley asked, intrigued.

  “What can I say?” Zoey asked, shrugging her shoulders. I was, well, I mean
I guess I still am a romantic, and out first meeting was straight out of a romance movie. I was fresh out of college and ready to join the work force. I had a stack of resumes, two solid letters of recommendations from two of my business professors, and a strong can-do attitude. With the help of my guidance counselor I had been set up on three interviews in major companies, and I was on my way to my first one.

  Like any other career driven person I decided to go into Starbucks and get a coffee. I remember standing in the long line of businessmen and women in their suits and just thinking, ‘this is it, this is exactly the way I want my life to be’. Anyway, when it came time to place my order I tried to open my briefcase with one hand. To my horror it flopped open and my money, keys, make up, and forty copies of my resume went scattering across the room. I was mortified, and no one moved to help me pick it all up. Except for Zack. He had been two people behind me and he had later admitted that he had been watching me do my little excited feet shuffle-it’s something I do to occupy myself when I have to stand in line.

  He was trying to think of an excuse to talk to me when my briefcase exploded and he ceased the moment. He was calm, smooth, and he had the most charming smile. He paid for my coffee and asked me if I had time to chat. When I told him I had to go for an interview he asked where. Surprise, surprise, not only did he work for Bronson Advertising, but he was the very hiring manager that was going to interview me.

  It all seemed so romantic and destined at the time. And to be fair on myself, I had no idea that he was eventually going to become my boss. That came later. Still, it sucked. Everyone knew that we were dating by then so they made a sport out of making me feel like the cliché secretary that was screwing his boss. It was mortifying,” she sighed, pouring herself another glass of wine. “Either way, I’m glad it’s over. What about you? Have any cute romances to brag about?”

  “Me? Bradley asked, taking the bottle from her to pour his own glass. “No. No my last great romance was with Tori, and that went straight down the drain. We were married for six years but we should have been divorced after only two. But I was young and naïve at the time, and I didn’t know that you could have love without hating the other person.

  Since her I’ve gone on a few dates. Hell, I’ve had plenty of one-night stands. Well I used to anyway. They lost their flare about a year ago, and I don’t go out bar hanging like I used to. It was so easy though, you know? I would walk in with my expensive suit and all I had to do was smile. Women would come from all directions to buy me a drink, hoping that I was there for a wife. I don’t know though, I could just never take any of them seriously.”

  Bradley admitted that he liked the attention, one way or another. Though he hadn’t found a second wife he’d still had a lot of fine trying to find her. He knew how easily he could charm a woman right out of her dress, and often enjoyed exercising that power of his. Still, none of them had ever made it past a third date.

  “Do you want to get married?” He asked suddenly, enjoying the sleepy, relaxed feeling the wine was giving him.

  Zoey laughed, shrugged her shoulder, and then shook her head. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I thought that I did. You know Zack, he didn’t show any signs of unhappiness before our break up. Didn’t spend any less time with me, didn’t stop doing sweet things for me. It was like he suddenly decided that it was time for him to be with someone else. Of course, seeing as how he had all of my stuff quickly organized and out of his apartment, he obviously had some sort of plan.

  I don’t know if I could ever trust someone again after that. Or if I did, I would have to have open communication. Like, all the time. From the big stuff down to the little stuff, right down to which soap we should buy to do dishes, and stuff like that.”

  Bradley laughed and drained his glass. He couldn’t blame her. Lord knows he was scarred after Tori. In his relaxed state, his foot had slid across the tile floor, bumping into Zoey’s. Their feet sat side by side for a moment, then Bradley’s toes slowly began to wander over her foot. His big toe stroked back and forth along the outer plate of her foot, tracing the bone that was there.

  For several moments they sat in comfortable silence as Bradley’s foot slowly travelled from her foot up to her calf. As he did, Zoey found herself spreading her legs a little wider, enjoying the feel of his touch. With her foot, she began to rub along the muscle of his calf as well, tugging at the fabric of his pants with his toes.

  “What are we doing?” Bradley asked, a small grin on his face.

  “Playing footsie,” Zoey replied, sliding her foot up higher so that it rested on his inner thigh.

  “This isn’t the footsie that I remember from high school,” Bradley said, only half joking. He knew that he was playing with fire, but there wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t want to get burned. He and Zoey were finally on a good track again, and he enjoyed the growing intimacy they were beginning to feel for one another.

  “If I sat in your lap- would you push me away?” Zoey asked, her eyes slowly travelling over Bradley’s handsome face and torso.

  “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” Bradley replied, his voice soft and full of honesty. He wanted her. Hell, he wanted her so bad he could barely see straight. It was time to admit that to himself and stop getting in his way.

  Emboldened, Zoey rose from her chair and straddled Bradley, putting her hands on his shoulders so that she could slowly lower herself down into his lap while facing him. Already she could feel the dampness between her legs and on her thong. She gasped when she settled into Bradley’s lap, finding his cock hard and straining against his pants.

  “Oh,” she moaned, slightly bucking her hips against his crotch to feel his hardness glide over her the damp fabric of her panties. It teased her to no end, and as she did it she felt her nipples harden tightly beneath her dress.

  “You look good there,” Bradley murmured, reaching out so he could wrap his hands around her waist. “Really good.”

  “I like being here,” she answered, her voice soft and full of arousal. Her pouty lips parted as she felt Bradley’s hands guide her hips into another bucking motion, this time making them both moan.

  It would be so easy, he thought, to simply unzip his pants, part her panties, and sink deeply into her. She could ride him right there in the chair. When she was tired, he could simply pick her up and lay her across the table.

  “Yes,” Zoey breathed, as if she could read his mind. “I want you too, yes,” she moaned, her hand going to his zipper.

  He made no move to stop her. Instead, he helped by unbuckling his pants. As soon as her hand wrapped around his cock he gasped and growled in pleasure. It had been quite a while since he had been with a woman, and he had forgotten how amazing a simple touch could feel when it came to sexual pleasure.

  With trembling fingers he hitched the fabric of her thong and pulled it to the side, sliding his middle finger deep between her folds in one slick, wet motion. This time it was Zoey’s turn to moan. Immediately she began to gyrate her hips against his fingers, so aroused that her juices were already flowing over his knuckles.

  “Fuck me,” she moaned, rising up high enough so that she could take him into her.

  Bradley’s finger slipped out of her immediately, and he groaned in ecstasy when he felt her hot, wet folds slide erotically down over his cock. She took in every inch that she could, and easily found her rhythm with him as she began to rock back and forth. Her frame was small, as was her passage. She squeezed and milked his cock tightly, as if her hot center was made just for him.

  “Yes,” Bradley moaned, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, how I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, using his hands to guide her hips into the rhythm he wanted the most.

  “Me too, Bradley,” Zoey moaned. Her juices flooded the apex of her legs, soaking into Bradley’s pants. Zack had been okay in bed, but he had never felt like this. Bradley filled every spare inch of her, as if he were taking over every part of her body that she could feel. As their rhyt
hm increased, Zoey began to pant and moan in need. It seemed like every time she got close to feeling her orgasm explode Bradley would pause, or slow. It was becoming an unfair torture, one that she soon felt as if she could no longer stand.

  “Please,” Zoey begged, her legs trembling from both arousal and fatigue.

  “What’s wrong?” Bradley asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he picked her up and pushed her down onto the table. With her back supported by the heavy oak furniture, he was able to piston his hips harder and faster into her, driving as deep as he could. “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes!” Zoey practically screamed, her nails digging into the table for support. Every breath she exhaled carried a moan or a plea for more, the woman’s senses so heightened that every single touch, from Bradley or otherwise, turned her on uncontrollably.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged, feeling her juices welling inside of her, finally ready to give her release.

  As soon as she said the words Bradley stopped, a wicked grin on his face. There were a lot of things in life he enjoyed, and teasing a woman senseless was one of them. Zoey moaned in protest, wondering why she was being tortured so.

  “Ask me,” he rasped, his voice heady and full of sex.

  “What?” Zoey gasped, not quite sure what he meant.

  “Ask me if you can come.”

  A shot of liquid heat splashed against her thighs as she imagined the naughtiness of the idea. It thrilled her to no end, and immediately gave over her power.

  “Please, Bradley, may I come?” Zoey asked, her voice dripping with sexual arousal.

  In reply, Bradley dropped to his knees and moved Zoey’s ass to the edge of the table. At once his head was buried between her thighs, lapping at suckling at every precious part of Zoey’s spread legs. Her orgasm released almost immediately, sending another warm wave of her liquid heat into Bradley’s waiting mouth and trickling down his chin. He moaned in delight and felt his own orgasm spurt out as he drank as much of Zoey as he could.