by Kylie Parker
Derek already had Clara in her car seat, and they were waiting for me at the front door.
“I hope you two didn’t wait too long,” I smiled as I tried to alleviate the tension thickening between my boss and me.
I had to keep remembering that fact.
Derek was my boss and nothing else.
It didn’t matter that my skin was now crawling underneath his gaze.
It didn’t matter that my nipples were puckering at the smile he was now giving me.
It didn’t matter that my eyes were struggling not to linger on his exposed forearms.
All that mattered was that he was my boss, and I was his employee, and the intermediary that gave me this position had only one rule for her entire company:
Never get attached.
“We’d wait as long as necessary,” Derek smiled. I caught his gaze one last time before I slung my coat around my shoulders, and his eyes grazed my body one last time before opening the front door for me.
“Ladies first,” and he waved me through.
11
Paying attention in that damn grocery store was hard enough without a few prying eyes on me as I walked the aisles, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Madeline’s swaying hips. My god, that water dripping off her in my kitchen was nothing short of savory; and the only thing that saved her from being thrown onto the kitchen island and peeled back for my own personal glory was the fact that I had been holding my daughter.
It’s why I was determined to hold her throughout the shopping trip.
While Madeline talked to some guy she seemed to know about the formula for Clara, I took my daughter and began walking up and down the aisles. It got me away from Madeline’s body and tore my eyes away from the curve of her ass long enough to figure out what I wanted to do for dinner. I settled on making us all some decent steaks. I didn’t cook very often, but I had a few things I was good at making.
And boy, could I make a damn good steak.
I grabbed a thick cut of meat from the back before I went in search of a couple of sweet potatoes. Just as I carried all of that and some fresh green beans to the front, Madeline came walking around the corner with three massive bags in her hands.
“Got the formula,” she smiled.
“Got dinner,” I smiled back.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” she interjected, “I’ve got chicken thawing in the sink.”
“Then put it back in the freezer,” I said, “because we’re having steak tonight.”
I was relieved when we got home. It is probably frowned upon to have roaming eyes while holding your daughter in a grocery store. I even shocked myself when I found out how important it was to me to keep a specific demeanor in public, even though someone as sexy as Madeline kept moving around me.
We got back up to my penthouse apartment and I gave Clara to Madeline so I could go put everything away. I turned my head and watched Madeline begin to bounce Clara to sleep, and I could hear the yawn my little daughter spewed all the way down the hallway.
I could also see the way Madeline’s breasts bounced with every step she took, and I had to start deep breathing in order to keep my thick length from straining against my jeans.
I started marinating the steaks and preheating the oven to cook the sweet potatoes, and the house was silent for a while. I figured Madeline had gotten Clara to sleep and assumed she had to lay down with her in order to do it. But, when Madeline came around the corner and took in a deep breath through her nose of the swirling smells of the kitchen, my eyes caught the length of her neck.
I would give anything to sink my teeth into that skin of hers.
“It smells good in here,” Madeline breathed.
“It’ll be another forty minutes or so, but it’ll be a good meal,” I murmured.
“Need any help?” she asked.
“All I need is to get those green beans washed, popped, and thrown into a boiling pot of water,” I said before I pointed to the bag of beans in the sink.
“On it,” she smirked.
We danced around each other in the kitchen as if we had been doing it for years. When I bobbed, she weaved, and when she went behind me I instinctively moved closer to the stove. Pan-searing a nice steak before finishing it off in the oven would give a nice taste to both the potatoes and the meat, but something happened when I bent over and put the meat into the stove.
I caught Madeline staring out of the corner of my eye.
I knew I was irresistible: I went to the gym regularly, I kept up with my cardio, and it didn’t hurt that I had more money than I could ever really spend. Women loved my tailored suits and my broad, strong shoulders. They were good for throwing a woman into bed and pinning her down through her multiple orgasms.
But there was something about Madeline’s attention I needed –
– Something I craved.
I reared up and it caused her to flicker her gaze away, and that telltale flush that began at the base of her neck trickled up through to her cheeks.
“Seven more minutes and dinner is served,” I breathed before I tossed the rag over my shoulder.
“I’ll get us some drinks,” she murmured.
“Wine’s in the slender cabinet over in the corner.”
I heard her rustling around in the cabinet and clinking bottles together; and when a frustrated sigh ripped from her lips, I shook my head and started over to her. She was hunched over comparing a couple of bottles, and I couldn’t help but graze my eyes over her body one last time before I interjected.
“No idea what you’re lookin’ at, do you?” I chuckled.
“Ugh, no,” she groaned.
You’d say ‘yes’ with me.
I swallowed hard before I took the two bottles from her hands, and when my skin grazed against hers I saw her lightly jump. It swelled my chest with pride that I could make her feel that jumpy because it meant she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I adored women that fought their base urges before I wore them down to their very dripping cores.
“Either one of them will do, honestly. This one’s a bit sweeter, so it might not go as well with the sweet potatoes, but it would go well with a dinner that had a regular potato instead.”
“Do you know a lot about wines?” she asked.
“Just enough to get by,” I smiled.
She was looking up at me with her big, beautiful, eyes, and for a split second, I lost myself in them. She was genuinely curious; I genuinely wanted to tell her things, and that became a bit unnerving.
“Come on. Dinner’s ready,” I bit out before I shoved the other wine bottle back into the cabinet.
I saw the confusion waft over her face. To her, we were probably having a moment. We were probably gazing deeply into each other’s eyes before we’d both proclaim some undying love for one another. She was probably expecting me to pick her up, sweep my hand over the kitchen island, knock everything off, and make slow, sweet love to her.
There would be nothing slow and sweet about the things I would do to her body.
We gathered everything for dinner and sat down at the table. I poured the wine while Madeline cut up her steak, and every time she wrapped those spit-glistened lips around her fork, all I could think about was her lips wrapped around my cock. I thought about how I would pump my hips towards her face while she moaned around my length, and I even thought about what her hair would feel like wrapped in between my fingers as I shot my sweet seed down her throat.
Dear god, why the fuck did she have to come out of that damn bathroom looking like that?
I’m completely taken by this woman in front of me. Ever since she showed up on my doorstep and began demanding things of me, she has been an enigma. I don’t take orders, I gave them, but the way she simply shrugged off my nonchalant attitude and required even more of me was… refreshing. Most women were content in being given glittering presents and being shown good times before stripping all their clothes off and rewarding me with my very expensiv
e prize.
But not Madeline; she wasn’t like the rest.
She didn’t give a damn about what I had or what I could give her.
Hell, she wouldn’t even take the advance she was completely entitled to that night!
I wanted to make a woman like that beg for me. I needed to know that, even as strongly as she stood, she’d beg for what I could give her at a moment’s notice.
“Derek?” she asked lightly.
Her voice ripped me from my thoughts and I realized I was staring.
“Are you okay?” she quipped. Her eyebrows hiked up lightly onto her forehead, as if to challenge me to tell her the truth.
“Just fine,” I smiled coolly.
“Uh huh…” she trailed off before she took another bite.
God, my dick was throbbing for her.
We finished our meal in silence before Madeline insisted on clearing the table. I sat there with a full stomach and watched her walk back and forth between the table and the kitchen. The way her hips swished made me wonder what she could do if I sat her onto my lap, and every time she bent over to grab more things from the table I couldn’t help but graze my eyes along the top of her shirt. Just enough cleavage poked out to tempt me, but not enough of it shone to give me any idea of what she looked like underneath those clothes.
“Have a drink with me,” I said lowly.
“I need to get back to Clara before she wakes up. I’m surprised she’s stayed asleep this long with me,” Madeline breathed.
“Just one drink,” I urged before I stood up from my seat.
“I really would love to, but if Clara wakes up it is really going to put a damper on the situation,” she smiled.
“What situation?” I asked.
I watched as her gaze slowly panned up to mine, and I watched while her eyes danced along my face. She was thinking something, I knew she was, and it killed me that I didn’t know what. I wanted to know everything about her: where she came from; who her parents were; what they thought of her being a live-in nanny to the most prestigious billionaire in New York City.
I wanted to know the woman that would beg for me – in time.
“I really should get to her…” Clara thumbed over towards the door.
“How about this,” I began. I reached out and took her hand within mine, and the electricity that surged between our fingers caused me to drop her hand as quickly as I had taken it.
The fuck was that?
“Go check on her, if it’ll make you feel better, and if you lean in to kiss her and she doesn’t stir, come have one more glass of wine. The shape of that bottle is useless when it comes to re-corking the wine, so I’ll just pour it down the sink anyway.”
“Is that really a thing?” she smirked coyly.
“It all depends. Is it working?” I smiled.
She turned my question around in her head for quite some time before a small smile broke out across her cheeks.
“Yes.”
“I’ll pour you a glass of wine and you can come find me on the couch,” I said.
“What if Clara wakes up?” Madeline asked.
But all I did was grab her glass along with the bottle of wine and head towards the main living area. I heard her pad behind me and dart off into Clara’s room, and I could feel my body mindlessly tensing as I listened for any shrieking sounds. I begged spiritual deities I didn’t even believe in for Clara to stay asleep, and when I saw Madeline slowly back out of the room, I put on my best “told ya so” smile before she shut the door and turned around.
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” she muttered as she rolled her eyes.
“Never,” I said lowly.
She walked towards me as I held out her glass for her, and when her fingers brushed up against mine that same jolt of energy cascaded up my arm. This woman was ruining me. I had no idea why or how, and I would ask every question in the book she would let me ask just so I could find out–
– Just so I could figure out why the hell I couldn’t get her off my mind.
12
I don’t know if he felt it, but I did: the jolt of fire whenever our skin happened to brush against each other. My employer’s words kept echoing in the back of my mind, but all I could do was hold my breath while we sat on the couch. I sipped my wine delicately while he talked about his business and the building of his career, and I found twinkling stars bursting in his eyes every time he smiled.
“What about your family?” I asked.
I saw his shoulders tense at the question before he brought his drink back up to his lips.
“What about yours?” he shot back.
“I asked you first,” I smirked.
“Ladies first,” he winked.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, just tell me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
My eyes hooked onto his face as I watched his jaw clench. His entire body seemed to wrench away from mentioning anything about his family, and all it did was pique my curiosity. But I knew better than to press because I wasn’t about to become personal about myself just to know a little more about this spoiled-rotten playboy sitting in front of me.
Except… the spoiled rotten playboy that greeted me at the door that morning was not the current man sitting in front of me.
“When is your birthday, Madeline?” he asked lowly. His eyes were trained towards the window, no doubt taking in the view of the city skyline against the black backdrop of the dancing stars in distant solar systems.
“December second. Why?” I asked.
My view was already in front of me, and I kept my eyes hooked onto the profile of his face while the cogs behind his eyes slowly began to turn.
“Just… trying to learn more about you,” he murmured.
“What brought you to New York in the first place?” he asked. He turned his head towards me, and this time it was my turn to lock up. I felt my shoulders roll back as the wine in my throat suddenly caught, and it caused me to cough it back up into the delicate wine glass I was holding before I could even catch what I was doing.
I felt a large, strong hand descend between my shoulder blades before someone took the glass from my trembling hand. The hand rubbed my back soothingly before a handkerchief came out of nowhere and covered my mouth, and before I could cough up the rest of the wine, I felt another hand smoothing the hair back from my reddening face.
His touch was warm, and intentional. Every stroke had a purpose and every touch had a mission, and I could feel the pads of his fingers fluttering across my skin as he deliberately tried to calm my body as it wracked itself with coughs.
I finally started breathing in deeply without pain and sat back up onto the couch. As involuntary tears poured from my eyes, he hooked his mesmerizing stare into mine before his hand traveled to my shoulder. I felt the heat of his body cascade down my chest before he raised his hand to cup my face, and it was then that I realized how closely our bodies had moved to each other on the couch. I could smell the tinge of scotch on his breath while the pad of his thumb slowly caressed my tear-drenched cheek, and I swear I had to tell myself to keep breathing as I watched his eyes dance in between mine.
“That good of a reason, huh?” he smirked.
I rolled my eyes and pulled back from his touch before I brought the handkerchief up to my eyes; but it wasn’t long before I felt the heat of his body lingering elsewhere as I continued to clean up my face.
He had laid his hand down onto my knee, and I was painfully aware of how wonderful his touch felt.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, just tell me,” he repeated.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered.
His thumb continued its soft circles on my knee, and I had to begin breathing deeply in order to keep the shivering of my body at bay. My mind was pulsing with the rules of my job, but my body was slowly caving to this man –
– This man, who had hired me to take care of his daughter.
He was
an enigma, this one: a master of sarcasm and wit by trade; owner of a ruthless business by day; and an enchanter of women by night. He threw his money around in a metaphorical dick-measuring contest with those around him, and he never once backed down from a challenge. He was strong, sure of himself, and knew he could have anything he wanted if he snapped his fingers loud enough.
Was that what he was doing to her?
Snapping his fingers?
My eyes grazed back up his body before I took in his position, and when I locked my eyes onto his lips I realized just how closely he had leaned in towards me. My body was drawn to him, like a magnet to its metal counterpart, and the pulsing of his scotch-tinged breath on my lips sped up my own breathing. I could feel the hair on my arms standing on end as he ran his hand from my knee all the way up to my waist, and as our lips connected, I felt my back slowly being laid onto the couch.
Desperation combed over me so that my hands flew into his hair. His honey blonde tendrils curved their way naturally around my fingers, and his tongue plundered the corners of my mouth. My legs willingly fell apart, accepting his body as his hips began rolling into mine. I could feel his growing length in between my trembling legs. Thick and veiny, I imagined it dripping for me while I ran my tongue up its length.
My appetite became voracious, and I raked my teeth across his bottom lip, eliciting a growl from him that could only be considered evolutionary. His chest was strong and the nails of my fingers raked down his shirt, frantic to claw away the pieces of fabric that separated his taut skin from the pads of my fingers.
His hand let go of my face and ricocheted down to my breast, massaging it rhythmically before my nipple stood at attention between his fingers. He rolled the pert little bud against his skin, and the moan that dripped from my lips caused a grin to break out on his cheeks.
He was proud he could elicit that sound from me –
