Scorched: An Alpha Older Man and Curvy Younger Woman Romance (Seasons of Seduction Book 1)
Page 4
I was happy.
Happier than I’d been in a long time.
I heard Cassie shift in her chair and turned my head to look at her. She was sitting up, facing me. “So, Myles.”
“Yes, Cassie?” I sat up, mirroring her businesslike posture and tone. “Do we need to have our quarterly meeting?”
She laughed and shook her head. “No. Well, I mean, I do want to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
She smiled. “I’ve been thinking.”
“You’re very good at that.”
“Hush!” She laughed again, shaking her head. “Let me talk.”
“Okay, okay. I’m listening.”
“All right. Thank you.” She sighed. “I’ve been thinking that this is a pretty big house for one person.”
“Okay.”
“And you live in a pretty small apartment.”
“Are you suggesting we combine forces?”
“Well, I was going to suggest you move in with me.” She reached for her wine, taking a long sip.
I smiled. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know it’s kinda soon, but it’s not a financial thing for either of us. If it sucks, you still have your apartment.”
“That’s true. And if it’s awesome, I can rent out the apartment and put a little more money in my pocket every month. Or help out people who need it.”
She smiled. “That’s what Noah would have done.”
“It is.” I nodded and leaned toward her, clinking our wine glasses together. “I would love to move in with you, Cassie, as long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. But you still have to clean the pool.”
“Ugh, really?”
“Yep.” She took a long sip from her wine glass.
“Will I still get paid?”
“Can I pay you in really amazing sex?”
I gave her a fake frown and a once-over. “I think we can arrange that.”
“Thank God. I won’t have to tell my boyfriend I’m fucking the pool boy.”
We laughed again.
This seemed like a pretty good start.
Epilogue
Cassie
Living with Myles was, in fact, awesome.
He settled in easily. Having him here helped—he was able to help me go through Mom and Noah’s stuff, carefully sorting the things that were special from the things that weren’t. We donated what we didn’t keep, except for a few high-priced things, which we sold.
It was nice to have the money, since we were converting my old bedroom into a nursery.
I was only about three months pregnant, but it was happening fast. We’d decided to paint the nursery yellow, my mom’s favorite color.
If it was a boy, we were going to name him Noah Sage. If we had a girl, her name would be Sylvia Ruth.
Myles still owned the pool company, but had somebody else running it—not Eric, since he’d quit after a few weeks. Ryan was the new guy, and he was smart and reliable. He was going to be a great manager. Myles, on the other hand, had really thrown himself into the restaurant he now owned.
He had a mind for business. It was working out well for him, really well.
And I was doing well, too. I’d quit working for Dan to focus on my blog. With the money I had from Mom and Noah, I didn’t really need the magazine paycheck. I’d be able to stay home when our baby was born and raise him or her.
I sighed as I came to join Myles by the pool. I’d changed into my swimsuit, wanting to lie out in the sun. He was in his trunks.
He caught my left hand as I passed and kissed it. “You’re gonna wear your ring in the pool?”
I looked at the diamond sparkling on my ring finger, the promise of being Mrs. Lincoln in the very near future. “You know I never take it off. I hope I never have to.”
He chuckled. “I like the sound of that.”
Stay For Me
The Slippery Curves Series
Book 1
One
Addy
I pull the red dress over my head and smooth it. It’s snug, fitting my curves. Damn, I look good. Maybe a little too good for a day at the office, but that shouldn’t matter. I adjust my bra, pushing up my tits and allowing my cleavage to peek through the v-cut neckline.
It’s a temptation to second-guess the dress, but I battle the temptation. Hell, I used to second-guess everything I put on. I was never a skinny girl, but I certainly wasn’t ashamed of my curves either.
“Those are your assets.” My mom used to say that growing up. “Someday you’ll use them to your benefit.”
I never felt that way. I’m comfortable in my own skin, but at work, I’d rather keep to myself. I’m a data girl. A self-proclaimed geek. I love the numbers and hate the people.
Well, most people.
I flip my blond hair over my shoulder and check myself one last time.
Today is the big day. Project release day. I’ve spent the last eleven and half months crunching data for this project. That alone could have been enough, but seeing my first big project completion tops it off.
Well, that and Owen.
Fuck. Owen. Hearing those two words together in my head is enough to send me over the edge. Instead, I check myself one last time in the floor-length mirror, turning to the side.
“Who am I kidding?” I smirk to myself. My mother said I had assets, but my stepdad always said that men don’t make passes at girls with big asses.
Fuck him. For some reason that asshole’s words still haunt me. Five years of fat shaming by him have been matched by the five years of therapy I’d been in to fix it.
I arrive at work forty-five minutes before everyone else. I like a quiet office. Being here before the gossip and talking starts gives me a sense of peace. The office has been a constant buzz of chatter ever since word of the buyout circulated. That buyout is the whole reason for my project—crunching data to find out where the bank can cut staff and finances.
At least I didn’t have to make the decisions or recommendations. That was Owen’s job. Owen Collier. Business consultant, boss, hot as shit, man of muscle. He took my data and made decisions.
Hell, he can take anything he wants of mine.
I blank out as I stare at the monitor. The numbers are a blur and all I can think about is Owen now. That body wrapped in tight suit pants and a polo that was obviously two sizes too small, but I wasn’t complaining.
“Are you going to come tonight?” His low growl of a voice startled the hell out of me.
I could feel my face immediately flush.
“Um, what?” I spin in my chair to see Owen standing at the entrance to my cube. His dark gray pants hug his muscular thighs and leave a bulge I don’t even need to strain to imagine. I force myself to meet his eyes, trying not to scan the rest of his body.
“Tonight, we’re going to have a little celebration at Manny’s pub. A year’s worth of hard work, finally coming to an end.” Owen shifts to the other foot and dangles his arm over the edge of my cube wall, accentuating his bicep, the vein snaking down his arm and branching out like a tributary of rivers. “I was hoping you were going to come.”
Every time he says that word, my thighs sweat with need. Come. If he only knew how much I’d love to come for him.
I bite my lip, trying to think of a million excuses why I can’t go. Most of them have to do with not wanting to socialize with the rest of my team. The pretentious group of people believes they know everything.
“No, I don’t think so. I have plans,” I lie.
“Cancel them. You’re going out with us,” Owen demands.
I like it when he takes control.
When he tells me what to do.
I stare into his steely gray eyes, almost hypnotizing myself. I want to say no, but I can’t.
“Yeah, sure,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
“Perfect.” Owen flashes me his dazzling smile and runs his fingers through his wavy dark hair, as if he knows
he just got his way. I’m sure he always gets his way. “Status meeting in ten minutes. Conference room five.”
“Uh-huh.” It’s all I can mutter as I watch him spin and walk away. His tight pants look just as good from behind as they do from the front.
Fuck, what did I just commit to? Drinks with the boss and co-workers?
I just opened up an entirely new level of anxiety for the day.
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