The Housekeeper's Daughter

by Palmer, Dee

  My impatience seems to amuse him.

  I can feel his smile against my inner thigh as he works his mouth from one side to the next, inching seriously close to my core. Oh god I want him so badly.

  “Please, Logan, please.” I don’t know what I’m begging for exactly, because I’m not sure I can take much more of this erotic torture.

  “I know.” He lets out a breath that hits me, and I want to scream in frustration, but his tongue follows the cool air and silences me with unbelievable sensation shooting through my entire body.

  Oh, my God!

  His lips suck and pull at the tender flesh, and his tongue has this perfect pressure sweeping long strokes from just near my clit to my entrance. I know I’m dripping, and from the rumble of moans coming from deep in his chest, he loves every drop. He slips two fingers inside me, and my hips buck instantly. His other hand rests on my tummy, firmly holding me in place. There’s no escaping this onslaught of unbelievable pleasure, but it’s too much. My core contracts greedily, grabbing at his fingers, which he pumps into me as I am seized with a tidal wave of ecstasy. My climax hits, and he just keeps pushing me on and on, pressing my clit, rubbing a light circling motion with the pad of his thumb. Before my body has stopped pulsing, he continues to pump and rub, building the pressure once more. This time, I scream loudly, with shock and wonder. I’m seeing stars, bright flashes of light before my tightly shut lids.

  “You’re so beautiful, Tia.” He draws his lips between his teeth; his chin is soaked, and he is smiling like the proverbial cat, with my cream all over his face.

  He holds my heated stare, his chest is heaving and matching my own ragged breathing.

  “I need to go and get a condom.” I grab his hand as he is about to lift himself from the bed.

  “You don’t, I can’t get pregnant remember?”

  “I know, but it’s not just about that, is it?” He tilts his head with the unspoken list of other possibilities.

  “Logan, I know you haven’t been fucking the hookers, so unless there is someone else—” I start to explain the non-issue here, but he interrupts me.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Do you want to have this conversation now, because—” Once more he interrupts, shaking his head and this crazy interlude from his thoughts.

  “Fuck, no, just…never mind.” His eyes settle on mine with a glare so hungry it makes my tummy flutter. “So no condom. You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.” My enthusiastic nod causes his killer smile to burst onto his face.

  “You got it.” His voice drops to a toe-curling deep and husky tone. He smoothly pushes my legs wide, and I love the feel of his strong hands pressing my thighs to the point of a painful stretch. He positions the head of his enormous cock against my slick folds and rubs, spreading my wetness along his shaft. My eyes must be wide with worry, but I’d take worry about his mammoth cock fitting over the flashbacks any day.

  “Tia, I’ve tried to make this easy, making you come like that, but this might still hurt a little. We’ll take it slow.” His voice sounds ragged, and I can see tiny droplets of sweat beaded at his temples. The softness in his eyes and the concern in his voice has me flashing him an encouraging and tender smile. However, the lump in my throat prevents me from actually speaking. “Okay, angel?” I nod. He keeps his eyes on mine the entire time as he pushes slowly into me. My body contracts at the intrusion, but it’s not so bad. He pushes farther, and the feeling of fullness and stretching is wonderful, no pain, no comparison. He groans when he changes the angle and rolls his hips. Oh, good God, that feels amazing.

  “Oh, ah, yes, Logan!” I cry out. His slow, steady thrusts drive into me, yet I can feel his reticence, his hesitation, and his loving intentions. It’s absolute heaven, and I want more. “Do you think you could go deeper?” I want every bit of him. He laughs and moans with desire.

  “Yes, Tia, I can definitely do that.” Groaning a guttural sound, he plunges deep.

  “Ahh, fuck!” I yell, and he freezes. “No, ahh, that was meant in a good way. Don’t stop, please, please, don’t stop.”

  “You sure Tia? You’re really fucking tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Only holding back would hurt me Logan. I need this; I need you.” He briefly closes his eyes in understanding, and when he opens them, I know I’m going to get exactly what I want. Yes.

  He pulls back and plunges again, deep, hard, and it’s utterly fantastic. He thrusts and pumps into me, shaking my body, pulling me, riding me with a wildness I match with my own body. My fingers move from tugging his silky hair to clawing at the taut muscles on his back as they flex with every pound into me. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he grabs my arse cheeks and pulls me tighter against him, closer against each thrust. The exquisite deep sensation I feel, as his cock rubs and touches sensitive tissue deep inside, takes my breath away. My body takes over and starts the unstoppable climb to ecstasy. I feel Logan shift, and he starts to pump faster into me, chasing his own release.

  “Tia, come with me!” The urgency in his voice has my body spiralling.

  “Yes, yes, Logan. Ahhhh!” I scream. Every nerve ending seems to ignite and explode, all the air gets sucked from my lungs, and muscles I didn’t know I had contract and pulse, riding this tsunami of a climax. Logan keeps us locked in an embrace that holds me floating on an orgasm high that is never going to end. Bliss.

  “Fuck!” His hips jerk with an involuntary spasm when I finally draw a breath and regain some of my senses. His hot heavy body covers mine, and we lie, two sweaty bodies, entwined and exhausted.

  “Logan.” I stroke patterns on his bare chest, my finger tracing the spattering of dark hair, soft and sexy.

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.” His eyes snap to mine when I tilt up to look at him. The frown that darkens his face I was expecting, but I still needed to say it.

  “You know, ‘thank yous’ are right up there with apologies, totally unnecessary and kinda piss me off. Like I was doing some sort of favour. You’re not a charity case, Tia; I’m the fucking lucky one.” Irritation is thick with the clipped words and snappy tone.

  “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It just…that was amazing, and—” I exhale softly, not finishing what I was about to say because I’m a little lost for words. I feel so damn good. He sighs.

  “I know, angel.”

  “That was a perfect ‘first’ time Logan.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” He grins when I look up. I snort a laugh.

  “God, could you be any more arrogant?”

  “Easily.” He rolls half his heavy body back onto mine, his cockiness giving way to heartfelt sincerity. “I’m glad, Tia. That’s all I wanted.” His kisses the top of my head, and I swear I couldn’t feel more cherished, and with his next question I couldn’t feel more wanted. “Now, how about round two?”

  “Round two?” I blurt out an incredulous laugh. “I can’t feel my legs, Logan, how am I supposed to walk?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t, then I could keep you here.” His playfulness has a sombre undertone.

  “And that would have me visiting one of Her Majesty’s hotels before nightfall.” I point out the stark reality of my house arrest.

  “Fuck, I hate this Tia. I hope you know what you’re doing?”

  “I do. I didn’t take the money, Logan.”

  “I know, but it’s still missing, and for some reason, you’re playing along.” I push up at this statement, shock almost making my jaw hit the floor.

  “How did you know?”

  “Please, Tia, don’t insult me. Just tell me.” He rolls his eyes, and I almost join him. Ghost did say he was that good. She also said I was a dumb bitch, which I have no intention of proving for the second time today.

  “I can’t. I mean, I will…one day,” I add as a sop that I hope will do for now.

  “Let’s just hope it’s not from across the table in a visitation room.”

  “Now wh
o’s being insulting?” I cross my arms in a defensive move, which only makes his eyes widen at the sudden plumpness of my breasts. I huff when he shrugs lightly, then he makes my heart hurt.

  “I can’t lose you, Tia.” His words hit with a force that leaves me winded. The pain swirls deep in his dark chocolate eyes, and I hate that I can’t give him the comfort he needs. Not yet.

  “You won’t.”

  “And Atticus?” The name cools the room, as if Cass himself has just walked through the door and brought the north wind with him.

  “What about him?”

  “You’re playing with fire, Tia. He’s not the boy you grew up with.” I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand abruptly. I shiver with the loss of our joined body heat, as my crossed arms do little to abate the chill.

  “I’m well aware of that, Logan,” I bite since his tone is tinged with condescension, which has my hackles rising.

  “I don’t like it.” His jaw is clenched so tight his lips barely move when he speaks.

  “And I’m over the fucking moon?” I snap. “It’s a necessary evil.” I let out a heavy breath and soften my tone. “I have no intention of going back to jail, Logan, and I’d rather not spend what precious minutes I have here, talking about him.”

  “Well, we agree on something, at least.” He grabs my hand and roughly pulls me back to the bed. Rolling our bodies until he is positioned perfectly on top, his erection steely-hard and in the perfect place.

  “What are you doing?” My legs twitch to make him more comfortable, but I’m not sure we should start something now.

  “You said we don’t have much time, so round two is going to be fast feral fucking.” He states this as a matter of fact, which makes my whole body prickle with desire.

  “Oh, goody.”

  I’m waiting by Logan’s desk, looking at the numerous screens with no particular focus. We held each other for as long as possible, but the minutes have caught up with me, and by the huffing and puffing coming from Logan, he’s just as pleased about my imminent departure as I am. Not.

  “Put these in your room and anywhere you spend any time.” He places several small pinhole spy cameras into my open palm.

  “These are tiny.” I pick one up between my thumb and forefinger. It’s about the size of a ten pence.

  “That’s the idea. He might notice a huge fucking camera or the sudden appearance of a sculpture on his bookshelf. These can be fitted to any picture frame, smoke detector, or light fitting and are pretty hard to spot unless you know where to look. Which he might, since he thinks you’ve stolen three hundred million, so be smart.” He taps his temple. The possible insult, however, is lost at the figure he’s just thrown out there. What the hell?

  “Three hundred!? It’s only a hundred, Logan.” As if that makes it better. It’s still a stupid amount of money.

  “No, Tia, three hundred million has gone from their balance sheet.” I try to swallow the dry lump choking my throat. My voice is a husky whisper when I do manage to speak.

  “Atticus only said a hundred, do you think he knows about the rest?”

  “I don’t know. Is he a dumbass?” Logan quips, but I’m in too much shock to laugh.

  “How did you—?” He cuts me off with his response.

  “I’ll tell you one day.” He raises a challenging brow, repeating my equally frustrating response to him earlier, and I have to concede.

  “Touché! Well-played Logan.”

  “This isn’t a game, damn it, Tia!” he roars. Stepping flush against me, his strong hands grip the tops of my arms, holding me fast and rendering me speechless. His anger rages behind his wild eyes until he shakes some sense back into himself and softens his grip. “Tia, I love you. I hate that I can’t protect you because I can’t fucking go outside, but I will die trying to keep you safe in any other way I can.” I reach to touch his face, and the pain in his tortured expression almost breaks my heart. He leans into my cupped palm, and I try and ease his mind as best I can.

  “This has never been a game. This is my life, Logan, and what you’ve just said is exactly the same for me. It’s about protection. If I end up in jail, it will be on my own. I won’t take you with me.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” he growls. His face is stern, and the words sound as deadly as they are serious. He pulls me into a breath restricting bear hug, and I gasp for air when he releases me.

  “Agreed,” I respond with a firm nod. He holds me rigid until he has taken all the time he needs to explore every part of me with his searching eyes.

  “When can you come back?” he finally asks when we both hear the horn of the car outside.

  “I don’t know.” I hold his face in my palms, rising up onto my toes to kiss the tight line of his lips. “I love you, and you have to trust me right back, Logan, or this won’t work.”

  “I know. I don’t have to like it, though.” He leads me from the room and silently down the stairs. I turn when we reach the bottom.

  “Take care, Logan.”

  “Same goes for you, angel.” His lips soften this time, and I don’t know how I pull away when his strong arms hold me just a little too tight. He releases the embrace, and I leave him standing at his safe distance from the front door. When I click it shut, my heart shatters at the hollow sound of his pain when he cries out to the empty house.

  “Fuck!”

  I barely look at Cass when I get in the car. I feel so fucking awful, leaving Logan like that, after that. I couldn’t hate Cass more right now, and I think the best thing is to just keep my distance. I feel utterly spent, physically exhausted, and emotionally drained. I twist in my seat, and I have my back to him. I rest my weary head on the window only to jump back when it starts to automatically open.

  “You smell like sex,” Cass states when I turn to face him for an explanation. His nose is wrinkled with distaste, but his eyes flash with something else, not anger or disgust, which his tone might suggest.

  He looks hurt.

  My tummy tightens with knots, and I just don’t know what to say. I know this is none of his business, and, yes, I do want to hurt him in some ways, but not like this. This wasn’t the plan. I just wanted to stop my body making stupid choices, and the way it reacts around him, it was inevitable.

  So why do I actually feel sick that it might have worked?

  The wind whips through the car with a burst of fresh spring air that lifts my hair and swirls it around, covering my face, and thankfully filling the car with enough noise to drown out the awkward silence until we reach his place.

  The short journey in the lift to Cass’s apartment is excruciating. The impassive tone of his accusation in the car is long gone, and all I feel is pain radiating off him in waves, from his slumped shoulders to the drawn tension in his face when he does bother to lift his head. We reach the penthouse level, and he leaves me standing in the lift. I watch him disappear along the corridor and into his office. I drop my head back against the wall, and sighing, I slide down to the floor. Pulling my legs up, I huddle in and hold that position, trying to draw some comfort from within.

  What the fuck am I doing? I should be on cloud fucking nine after that time with Logan, and yet I can’t get past that look of loss in Cass’s eyes.

  Why should he care now, when he didn’t care when it mattered, when I needed him?

  The doors close, and that’s when I realise I’m stuck. Shit.

  I scrabble through my bag for my phone but there’s no signal. Centre of the capital city and I have no frickin’ signal. I look for the panel with the emergency phone but there isn’t one. There’s a screen with fingerprint activation, which is fucking stupid. There has to be a way to call for help without needing a fucking fingerprint. I start to shout, but after several frustrating minutes, I give up and slide back to the floor.

  My arse is so numb, I’ve pretty much lost all feeling from below the waist. Whatever misplaced guilt I may have felt evaporated after the first hour of boredom and rea
lising that Cass either hadn’t checked on me or more likely didn’t give a shit where I was. If maintenance finds me, it will be a blessing because right now if it’s Cass, well, he better be sporting some serious sort of protective clothing because it’s more than harsh language I want to throw his way.

  I’ve run out of insults to hurl as over the past few hours I’ve been through the alphabet several times and may have made up a few new ones, and I really need to pee. The doors glide open, and I am so grateful I forget every angry threat, every foul-mouthed tirade, everything actually, except my bladder. I push past a confused-looking Cass and dart to the bathroom.

  Cass is in the kitchen, and my stomach rumbles so loudly, it announces my presence before I turn the corner.

  “What were you doing in the lift?” He doesn’t look up from the black coffee he’s nursing between his fingers.

  “Oh, just chilling,” I retort without humour. He frowns, but just shrugs, and I can feel my blood boil.

  “I could’ve died in there, Cass, and all you can do is shrug?” I snap, my voice pitched with indignation.

  “A little dramatic, don’t you think? It’s not like I knew you were joking, Tia. For all I know, you could’ve just wanted to sit in a lift.” He laughs at first, but his features darken when he adds, “I don’t know you at all, remember?”

  “What are you, twelve? I’m serious; I couldn’t get out.” He stands abruptly, the kitchen stool teetering on its rim before settling back with a clank of stainless steel on marble.

  “Yes, you could.” He stomps past me, grabbing my wrist and tugging me along behind him. I have to run to keep up with his normal stride. He swipes his finger to open the door and stares openly at the same screen I’m staring at as if it now magically holds all the answers.

  It’s still the same screen that says ‘fingerprint here’.