by Lucy Darling
“Oh God.” I try and pull at the blanket to cover myself but it’s tucked too tightly into the mattress. I sit up instead, trying to get out of the bed. I don’t get very far as I run right into him. He catches me by the shoulders, but when I jerk from his hold he doesn't stop me. He holds his hands up letting me know he’s not going to do anything. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
“For destroying my bathroom or dry humping me to orgasm?” I close my eyes. This can’t be happening. “Because I’m not complaining about either of those things,” he says while keeping his eyes focused on mine. He doesn’t let them drift to my naked body.
“All of it,” I squeak out before I take off running toward my bedroom naked. I don’t miss that the floor in his room is wet, too, under my bare feet. I slam the door behind me, locking it. I lean up against the door, not sure what I should do next. I’ve made a real mess of things this time.
“Get dressed,” I mutter to myself. I can’t do anything until I at least get some clothes on.
“Don’t do that on my account,” I hear Mr. Jackson say from the other side of the door. I jump away from it like he can see me through it. I stare at it, wondering if he’s going to open it, but he doesn't. I listen but can’t hear anything. I go in search of my suitcase. I find my clothes on the floor where I dropped them before my bath and quickly pull them on. My hands shake, I’m guessing from either my nerves or the amount of adrenaline running through my body post orgasm. Once I’m dressed, I remain standing in the same spot, not knowing what to do next. I don’t want to go out there but I need to face the music. I’ve just dry-humped my new boss and destroyed part of his home. I need to try and clean up the mess I made. Or I could just make a run for it.
That’s what my mother would do. She’d run. But I’m not her. No matter how embarrassed I am, I need to open the door and face my problem head-on. I need to accept responsibility for the mess I’ve made and face the consequences. I pack whatever personal belongings I have out into my suitcase and shut it. I'm going to walk out of this room with my head held high even though I know I’m getting fired. I wonder if they’ll at least pay me for today so I can get a hotel and come up with a game plan. I’ll need to clean up as fast as I can because it’s getting late and I know that I can’t afford a hotel in this neighborhood. I’ll have to either bus it or take the train to a less ritzy section. As far as the orgasm, I’m just going to act as though that didn’t happen. Ignorance is bliss.
“Penelope.” He says my name through the door.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson?” I answer.
“Are you okay?” I nod my head, not thinking that was what he was going to ask. “Answer me,” he demands, reminding me that he can’t actually see me.
“I’m as fine as one can be,” I admit.
“Do you want to come out here?”
I shake my head no again, forgetting he can’t see me. I’m a freaking mess right now. “Not really,” I admit.
“Take a breath.” I suck in a deep one dropping down onto the bed behind me. His voice is so calm now that it’s actually soothing me. “I’ll get all of it cleaned up.”
“But—”
He cuts me off. “It’s going to take a professional crew to clean this up. Stay put.” My shoulders drop. He is right; a few towels is not going to clean all that up. “You going to stay put?”
“Yes.” There he is bossing me around again, but I guess that is his job and it’s my job to do what he tells me. I scoot further back onto the bed, tucking my legs close to my chest, relieved that I don’t have to go out there. Even more relieved that I don’t have to find somewhere to stay for the night.
“Good girl,” he says before I hear his steps leaving from in front of my door. For once I feel like maybe I did something right.
7
Colden
I’m not sure how I managed to let Penelope run from that bedroom. It took everything in me not to grab her and take her back down onto the bed and finish what we started. I can still smell her on me, taste her on my tongue and hear the sweet little moans that she let out as she rubbed herself to orgasm against me. My perfect little angel is just that, perfect. All over. I knew I had to let her go so that she wouldn’t be frightened. Guilt passes through me for a minute thinking that maybe I took advantage of the situation. Worry consumes me that she’ll want to leave. I don’t deserve to touch something so sweet and innocent. Yet it’s not going to stop me. The only one that can stop me is her and I don’t think she is going anywhere for now. She’s holed up in my spare room, which looks like she’s already made it her own. I have a million questions and calls to make, but I’m not going to get shit done until I get myself together. First thing I need to do is get out of these wet clothes.
I give her door one last look before I head back to my bedroom, pulling my wet clothes from my body and tossing them to the floor near my closet. The water only made it a little way into my bedroom. Most of the damage is confined to the bathroom. I pause, realizing that she spent the day cleaning this place. I bend down, picking up my damp clothes from the floor and putting them into my hamper before finding something else to wear.
Part of me wants to throw my thousand dollar custom slacks into the trash because, like some teenage kid, I came all over myself. The other part of me doesn't want to because she’d been pressed up against me wet and naked while I’d had them on. I let it go as I jerk on pants over my hard cock as if I hadn't come already. I pull it together before finding my phone and calling Charla. She sends me to voicemail.
I look down at my phone, partly shocked because she always picks up, but now I know she’s up to something. My phone dings a moment later.
Charla: Yes, she’s staying there. She has nowhere else to go. Deal with it.
I stare at the text. A smile pulls at my lips. I really shouldn't be so happy that my little angel has nowhere else to go but it puts me at ease that I don’t have to worry about her trying to sneak out of here.
Me: Good.
I shoot a text back. My phone rings in my hand and a moment later Charla’s name lights up the screen. I answer.
“What do you mean ‘good’? What’s going on over there?” She fires off the questions.
“You’re right. I do need her here.”
“I’m right?” she whispers to herself.
“Can you find me a restoration company? My new assistant has flooded my bathroom.”
“What!” she screams through the phone.
“Calm down. It’s fine,” I reassure her.
“Wait. Why am I the one freaking out and not you?” I hear her moving around.
“Don’t come over here. Call a crew to come clean up the water. I can handle the rest.” I leave my closet to see the bag of food I brought home still on the side of my bed. I grab it.
“Okay.” Charla lets out a long sigh. “I hope it’s not too bad. The girl is so sweet and-” She trails off. I’m guessing she’s feeling bad that she left someone in my condo who then flooded it.
“I get it,” I mumble back because I do. One of the things Charla is best at is reading people. She is very intuitive and there is something about the young girl that made Charla leave her here. Charla doesn't do things on a whim. There is something special about this girl. I’ve made it my mission to find out what it is and make her mine forever. I’m an overachiever, what can I say?
“I’ll text you in a few minutes when I find a crew. I’ll have someone there within the hour.”
“Good.” I put the bag of food down onto the kitchen counter.
“Where is Savannah?” Charla asks. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.” She hangs up before I can ask who Savannah is. I drop my phone down onto the counter looking around the kitchen. I have to have plates. I want to put her food on a plate. It feels like the proper thing to do. There is no food in the house and I’m guessing she hasn't eaten. I’m going to go shopping first thing tomorrow; that way she’ll always have food to eat. Well maybe I’m not going to do the
actual shopping but I am going to hire someone to stock the refrigerator and cabinets with food. My little angel will never go without again.
8
Penelope
After Mr. Jackson ordered me to stay put, I unpacked my suitcase again and made myself comfortable on the bed. I know it might be pointless because he’s going to likely fire me, but I needed to do something. I’ve gone from not being able to keep my eyes open to thinking I’ll never sleep again.
My lips are still a little puffy from the kisses that we shared and my body still hums remembering the pleasure he helped give it. I think he’d helped. I might have attacked him a little. When his mouth brushed my skin it was as if something inside of me woke up and came out to play.
Relief is the strongest thing I’m feeling at the moment. Knowing that I’m safe and have a place to stay for the night has taken some of the edge off of the fear that was creeping back in. A slight knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.
“Penelope. Are you hungry? I’ve set dinner out but if you’d rather eat alone I understand.” I jump from the bed, stopping when my hand grabs the doorknob. Am I really ready to face him? my mind screams. My body is telling me yes. I practically run to the door, but my mind plays catch up before I can pull it open.
“You have to be hungry. Open up. I promise I don’t bite.” I want to remind him that he does bite. I can still feel the tingle on my neck. His small nip was the thing that had sent me over the edge to orgasm. I tell myself it’s the lure of food that has me slowly opening the door. A look of surprise graces Mr. Jackson’s face.
“I’m starving and I don’t want to eat by myself.” He gives me a half smile. I thought he had a date. Didn’t he eat with her? I want to ask but I don’t. It’s not my place and I am still trying to keep this job.
“Maybe we can start over again.” I reach out my hand to him, giving him a smile back. “I’m Penelope Sinclaire.” His big hand engulfs mine but doesn’t actually shake it. He more holds it in his. I clear my throat when he doesn't respond. He stares down at me, his warm hand holding mine gently. “Mr. Jackson?”
“Call me Colden,” he finally answers.
“Are you sure?” At my last job we never called our boss by his first name. It felt odd. I guess I never humped my last boss or flooded his bathroom either.
“If you’re going to be staying here.” He lets out a small chuckle.
“I can stay?” I can’t stop the hope that fills my voice. I should totally be canned at this point. I don’t want to know what it’s going to cost to fix his fancy bathroom. “I promise I won’t flood anything. I was just so tired and well, I—I—” I stumble with my words because I don’t have a reason for having been in his bathroom. I should have used my own but I was half sure at the time that I was going to be fired or that he’d be gone most of the night and not notice that I’d used his. My mind once again goes back to his stupid date.
“Don’t think about it.” He pulls me with my hand he’s still holding toward the kitchen. I can smell the food before I see it placed out on the table. He uses his free hand to pull a chair out for me.
“Thank you.” I drop down into my seat. The steak looks almost as good as Colden. I pick up the fork and knife and dig in. It isn't until I’m about five bites in that I realize he is still standing there watching me. I swallow the food in my mouth, grabbing a napkin to wipe my face. “Sorry.” Again my face heats. I didn't even wait for him to join me. “I’m hungry. I haven’t had anything to eat all day.”
“I can see that.” His face looks irritated now. I’m sure it’s because of my manners. I pull my arms back so that my elbows are off the table and sit up a little straighter.
“I’ll have food brought in tomorrow. The place will be stocked.” He picks up his own fork. “Eat,” he tells me as he takes a bite of his own steak.
“But that’s my job. I didn't get a chance to go to the store yet. The cleaning took most of the day. I can handle it first thing in the morning.” One of my responsibilities is making sure Mr. Jackson’s home is taken care of. Without question one would assume that having this place stocked is one of the things I should handle.
“We’ll go together,” he answers, sounding a little unsure of himself or maybe it’s surprise that I hear in his voice. As if he can’t believe he offered to physically go to the store.
“You don’t have to do that.” I try to give him a way out.
“How will you know what to get?” He raises an eyebrow at me. I guess I don’t know what he likes to eat. That is a fair point.
“Charla—I mean Mrs. Stine—told me that you’re very busy and that—”
“I’ll go to the store with you.” He cuts me off. “Eat,” he tells me again. I look down at my food and do as I’m told. I’m starving and I’ve never tasted something so wonderful before. I didn't know a piece of steak could be so tender. “Don’t leave the table,” I hear him say as he pushes back from it. I watch him go. He really does love giving orders. I keep on eating until I hear voices. I lean back in my chair to try and see who he's talking to since I was told not to leave the table.
I let out a scream as my chair starts to fall over. I try and grab the table to keep from falling but I can’t get a grip on it.
“Fucking hell,” Colden bellows. One second he’s nowhere in sight and the next he’s by my side. I don’t know how in the world he did it but he caught me and my chair before we managed to hit the floor. He lifts the chair, righting us both.
“Oops,” I say.
He closes his eyes, pinching the brim of his nose. I smile because he looks both frustrated and sexy as hell.
“Everything okay?” I hear a male voice say. I can’t see him because Colden’s giant frame is in the way.
“Does this look like the bathroom?” he asks the man as he turns to face him. I peek around Colden to see a man in work coveralls and a giant tool box in his other hand.
“Sorry, sir.” The man's eyes meet mine for a moment. Colden moves over more, blocking my view again.
“Go,” he barks at the man. Slowly he turns to look down at me. “Are you always this clumsy?”
I shake my head no.
“Are you lying?”
I bite my lip and nod my head yes this time. “I’ll be better,” I tell him. I am prone to being a little bit of a clutz. It’s why working a desk job is best for me. I’ve always worked them, not because I enjoyed them but because I am less likely to break something sitting in a chair. Okay, maybe that isn’t the case because I almost fell out of this one. It wouldn’t have been the first time either.
“I’ll be better.” He repeats my own words as he sits back down at the table. I can hear the men working down the hall. They are busy over there fixing my mess up.
“I’m really sorry about the bathroom,” I say again. I look down at my almost empty plate. I can’t believe I ate so much but my stomach is feeling it now. A finger goes under my chin, making me look back up at him. Our eyes lock.
“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes are soft as he gazes into mine. Colden isn’t turning out to be anything like I thought he was going to be. I could have sworn Charla said he didn't care for people much. He has a little bark in him but I am learning quickly that his bite is actually a little sweet. He’s more like a puppy that likes to take naughty little nibbles.
“Thanks for dinner. If you keep feeding me like this, I’m never going to leave.”
This time he smiles as if he’s won the lottery. “That’s the plan,” I hear him whisper as he gets up and takes my plate. At least that’s what I think he said. He walks toward the kitchen with the dirty dishes. I would protest but I’m learning quickly not to question him when he’s determined to do something. I watch as he puts the dishes into the dishwasher, leaving no mess behind. This is very unlike the man Charla warned me about. Then again, I don’t think she ever thought I’d end up kissing him. Or had he kissed me?
“Can I help with anything else?” I ask as I push up fro
m my chair.
“Rest. You had a long day.” I think he’s going to come over to me and kiss me. Well, that feels like what he should do. I have to remind myself that this man is my boss. This might be his way of us pretending it never happened. He is doing me this favor. I should take it. I guess I really don’t have much of a choice in the matter but to take it. I give him a nod.
“Thank you,” I say before hurrying off to my room and closing the door behind me. My stomach is full and I feel safe. There is another feeling in my chest that I can’t place. I walk over to my bed not bothering to pull back the blankets before I fall onto it. My eyes close immediately. Exhaustion finally takes over, not allowing my mind time to think about it. Even with the noise from the crew cleaning up the water, I manage to pass out within seconds.
9
Colden
I shoot up from the sofa at the sound of soft steps. Penelope stops in her tracks, holding her hands up. Her eyes go wide as she drops the glass she was holding in one of them. It shatters as it hits the floor. She lets out a small scream. If I wasn't awake before I am now.
“Oops.” She says the simple word. I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I don’t know what it is that is so freaking adorable about such a small word. I think it’s the way she innocently says it. I savor it for a moment. “I was just—”
“Don’t move angel,” I say, standing from where I’d been sleeping on the sofa. I let out a small groan as I stretch. The sofa is comfortable but not made for a man of my size to sleep on all night. My room should be fixed in a few days and then I can get back to my own bed.
Her plump lips form a quick little O as she watches me. Her eyes roam over my bare chest. At some point I tossed my shirt away, having grown hot. I couldn’t get comfortable so I tossed and turned most of the night, finding it hard to sleep. It should have been easy with how shitty I slept the night before, but I had this strange feeling that Penelope would try and sneak out in the middle of the night. The worry had left me restless. We still haven’t addressed what had happened in the bathroom.
