Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
marlowe
I fucked my boss. I can ’ t believe I fucked my boss.
That’s the first thought that hits me when I wake up in the morning.
The second thing I register is that we’re still in bed together. His arm lays heavy across my waist, curled protectively around me as we spoon. His body is big and warm and solid as a rock, making me feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life.
As a dreamy smile curves my lips, I slowly open my eyes. Sunlight streams into the room through a wall of windows facing the lake. The water glistens under a vivid blue sky, not a cloud in sight.
Last night was out of this world. I’ll never forget the things Gunner did to me with his mouth, his hands and his huge cock. He was wild and fierce, demanding and insatiable. I honestly didn’t know I could have so many orgasms. It was phenomenal. He was phenomenal.
But now, in the sober light of day, I can’t help wondering if I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.
As I shift slightly under the covers, Gunner’s arm tightens, pulling me closer. I snuggle into his muscled heat, sighing a little. I ache in places I’ve never ached before, places I never even knew existed. But I’m definitely not complaining.
Gazing out the window, I wait for Gunner to break the silence.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he finally murmurs.
“Only a penny? From a billionaire?” I pfft at him. “Cheap bastard.”
A deep rumble of laughter shakes his chest. “Jesus. Does that smart mouth ever rest?” With his arm still hooked around my waist, he rolls me over to face him.
I laugh, staring at him as he props himself up on his elbow. His eyes are slumberous, his jaw covered with dark stubble, his hair tousled and gorgeous. He looks so sexy my stomach flutters and my thighs clench.
“Good morning,” I half whisper.
“Mmm. A very good morning.” He smiles with lazy contentment. “How’re you feeling?”
“Tired.” I grin. “And kinda hungry.”
His eyes gleam. “We worked up one hell of an appetite, didn’t we?”
I blush. “You could say that.”
He threads his fingers through my hair, stroking it back off my face as his eyes probe mine. “Any regrets?”
I hesitate a moment, then shake my head.
“Don’t lie to me.” His thumb smooths away the furrow between my eyebrows. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I hesitate again before admitting, “I don’t know how this is going to work. I mean, you’re my boss, Gunner. Sleeping together is going to complicate everything.”
He nods very slowly. “It might.”
“ Might? ”
“Yes, but it doesn’t have to.”
“How could it not?”
“If we set boundaries?—”
“How?” I exclaim. “How can we set boundaries when we’ve already crossed the biggest one of?—”
He silences me with a kiss, pressing me back against the pillows. I arch into him as he slowly rims my lips with his tongue, staring into my eyes. When he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, I can’t help moaning.
He kisses me until I’m breathless, until all my resistance has melted away. Softly nuzzling my jaw, he draws my leg over his thigh, causing the tips of my breasts to brush his hard chest. Tingles shoot through my body like heat lightning, bringing a warm flush to every inch of my skin.
He gazes down at me, tracing my swollen lips with the pad of his thumb. “Do you like it here?”
I blink dazedly. “What?”
“Do you like living here?”
I nod.
“Say it.”
“I like living here.”
He looks pleased.
“But I miss Sansa,” I add with a wistful smile.
His brow furrows in confusion. “From Game of Thrones ?”
“No.” I laugh. “Well, yeah, I do miss that character. But I was talking about my cat.”
His eyes narrow. “You have a cat?”
I nod. “She was a stray who welcomed me to the neighborhood when I first moved to Texas. She’s an orange calico and a total badass—a survivor like Sansa from Game of Thrones . That’s who she’s named after.”
Gunner smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Where is she?”
“Back at the apartment with my friend who took over my lease. Mrs. Calder told me you don’t allow pets, especially cats.” I search his face. “Do you have something against cats?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I’m not crazy about them.”
“Why not?”
A strange expression flickers over his features before they harden. “I’m just not.”
My heart sinks. So much for hoping he’d let Sansa join me.
He watches my face. “Now you’re mad at me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you—” He’s interrupted by a firm knock at the door.
I stare at him, panicking at the thought of getting caught in his bed.
Clenching his jaw, he calls out tersely, “What is it?”
“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” Mr. Leland speaks through the door. “I wanted to inform you that your mother is here.”
I bolt upright, clutching the sheet to my breasts.
“My mother?” Gunner repeats in disbelief.
“Yes, sir,” the butler confirms. “She flew in from Dallas this morning. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her helicopter land.”
Gunner frowns at me, his eyes narrowing at my alarmed expression. I swear I’ll die of embarrassment if his mother catches us in bed together.
He looks toward the door. “Where is she?”
“The sitting room, sir. Mrs. Calder served her tea.”
“Fine.” Gunner’s jaw is tight. “I’ll be down shortly.”
“Very good, sir.”
After the butler leaves, Gunner meets my panic-stricken gaze. “Relax.”
“ Relax? Your mother is here!” My voice is high-pitched. “Were you expecting her?”
“No,” he grits out. “I wasn’t.”
I get the impression he’s not happy about this surprise visit. That makes two of us.
I scramble out of bed and start searching for my nightshirt while he watches me, his eyes roaming shamelessly over my naked body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.
His words heat my skin, but I’m too frazzled to savor the compliment. Locating my nightshirt, I hastily pull it over my head and comb my fingers through my tangled hair. “I knew I should’ve gone back to my room last night.”
“What makes you think I would’ve let you go?” Gunner drawls.
I stare at him as he climbs out of bed and prowls toward me, his heavy cock swinging against his thighs.
I swallow hard and jerk my eyes up to his face. “W-What’re you doing?”
He cups my cheek in his palm. “I’m going to take a shower and then head downstairs to greet my mother. Why don’t you join me?”
“Where?” I croak.
“In the shower.”
“Seriously? With your mom here?” I shake my head. “No way.”
His eyes glimmer as he watches me retreat. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
I open the door, look both ways and then dash out, making it back to my room without running into anyone.
It’s my day off, so I’m not required to show my face. But I don’t want to risk offending Gunner’s mother by hiding out in my room. Plus I’m insanely curious about the woman who brought him into the world. So I take a quick shower, get dressed and make my way downstairs.
I reach the landing just as Gunner disappears into the sitting room. I hurry after him, stopping near the doorway and peeking around the corner as he walks toward a striking older blonde seated on the couch.
“Mother.” He bends to kiss her upturned cheek. “Nice to see you.”
“Likewise, darling.” She pats his face with an elegantly manicured hand. “Mrs. Calder says you were still in bed. It’s so unlike you to sleep in.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“And? You never sleep past six, even on Sundays.”
“Guess there’s a first time for everything.” Gunner looks around suspiciously. “Where’s that demonic furball?”
His mother sighs long-sufferingly. “If you mean Charlotte Bront?, she’s off somewhere exploring your castle.”
Charlotte Bront?? I mouth quizzically.
Gunner scowls at his mother. “She’d better not piss anywhere.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s been housetrained for years.” She pats the spot next to her on the couch. “Sit down, darling. You know how I hate it when you loom over me. You and Maverick have gotten so tall, I get a crick in my neck looking up at you.”
Gunner sits down obligingly. “So what brings you to town?”
“I wanted to see you, of course. It’s been too long.”
“You just saw me at Granddad’s birthday party two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks can feel like a lifetime at my age. Not that I’m old, mind you.”
“I wouldn’t dare suggest otherwise,” Gunner drawls.
His mother makes a tittering sound and picks up her teacup. With her perfectly coiffed blond hair and big blue eyes, she looks like a former Southern beauty queen straight out of central casting. Her immaculate designer outfit makes me feel slovenly in the T-shirt and jeans that I threw on.
I’m tempted to run back upstairs to change my clothes. Before I can move, Gunner’s mother suddenly glances across the room and sees me. She looks surprised, then suspicious.
“Why, darling,” she says to Gunner, “I didn’t know you had company.”
Heat warms my face as Gunner rises from the couch and beckons me forward. I hesitate, wiping damp palms on my jeans before entering the room.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Marlowe Somerset, my new housekeeper. Marlowe, this is my mother, Tabitha Billingsley.”
I force myself to relax and smile. “Pleased to meet you.”
She gives me a slow, critical perusal and says to Gunner, “You didn’t tell me you hired a new maid. What happened to the last one? Sara—no, Brynn. Where’d she go?”
“It didn’t work out,” he says tersely.
“What a shame. Good help is so hard to find.” His mother taps her fingernails against her teacup as she stares me down. “How old are you?”
I glance at Gunner before answering, “Twenty-three.”
“Twenty-three?” She raises an eyebrow at Gunner. “They’re getting younger and younger, aren’t they?”
A muscle tightens in his jaw. There’s an undercurrent of tension between mother and son. I don’t know the source of it, but it’s palpable enough to make me uncomfortable.
Ms. Billingsley returns her attention to me. “So what’s your story, Cinderella?”
“Don’t call her that,” Gunner growls. “Her name is Marlowe. Address her with respect or don’t address her at all.”
His mother seems taken aback by the rebuke. She looks from me to Gunner, her eyes hardening with comprehension.
“Sleeping with the help, darling?” she jeers, lip curled scornfully. “Like father, like son.”
Gunner’s jaw clenches and he flicks a glance at me. I can’t read the emotion in his eyes. Anger? Guilt? Shame?
I paste on a polite smile, cheeks burning with humiliation. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Billingsley. If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
She smirks as I turn and walk out of the room.
Gunner comes after me. “Marlowe, wait.”
I walk faster. Just before I reach the staircase, he grabs my wrist and pulls me around to face him.
I heave a trembling breath. “Let me g?—”
He takes my face in his hands. “I’m sorry about my mother. She had no right to speak to you that way.”
“It’s fine,” I say bitterly. “I am just the help.”
His expression turns thunderous. “You’re not the help.”
I snort. “I’m literally?—”
“ YOU’RE NOT THE FUCKING HELP! ”
Startled by his angry outburst, I clamp my lips together and cross my arms under my breasts. My heart is thumping furiously and my legs are shaking. Worse, my eyes are stinging with tears.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” His expression softens and his fingers caress my cheek. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just . . . Fuck .”
I stare into his stormy eyes. He looks so tortured, so conflicted, that I can’t help feeling sorry for him. But I feel even sorrier for myself. Especially my heart, which is in serious danger of getting massacred by Cupid’s arrow.
What did his mother mean by “They’re getting younger and younger”? Does Gunner make a habit of sleeping with his employees? Did he screw his last housekeeper? Am I just another notch on his luxurious bedpost?
Pulling away from his hands, I inhale a shaky breath and lick my lips. “I have to go.”
Something like panic flares in his eyes. “You can’t quit.”
“I’m not quitting. I’m going out.”
Stark relief washes over his face, warming my insides. The feeling doesn’t last.
“Where are you going?”
I bristle at his possessive tone. “It’s my day off. I have plans.”
“What plans?”
“None of your business.”
His jaw clenches. “You’re not taking the car unless you tell me where you’re going.”
My temper flares. “I don’t need the damn car.”
Suspicion narrows his eyes. “Is someone picking you up?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Who?”
“If you must know, I’m having lunch with Dawson.”
Gunner’s face hardens. “Over my dead body.”
My mouth falls open. Seriously, dude?
“Let’s get something straight right now,” I say heatedly. “You might be my employer, but you’re not the boss of me!”
The words sound idiotic even to my own ears, but I’m too incensed to care.
“After last night,” he snarls, “how can you even consider going out with that guy?”
“For your information, we rescheduled our date after you forced me to cancel on him last week.”
“Cancel again.”
I jut my chin up. “No.”
He looks furious. “Dammit, Marlowe?—”
“Just because we slept together doesn’t mean you own me. I’m not yours, Gunner. I never will be.”
“Stop lying to yourself,” he growls.
“I’m not!”
He leans in until his nose almost touches mine. “You can’t run from this,” he says very softly, his breath caressing my lips. “What happened between us last night wasn’t a fluke or a mistake. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you. We fucking connected, sweetheart. We haven’t stopped connecting since we first laid eyes on each other. Whether you believe it or not, we’re going to make love again. And again. And again. It’s not a matter of if, but when.”
I swallow thickly, quivering so hard my knees knock together. “Let me go, Mr. Ransom.”
“So it’s Mr. Ransom now?” he taunts.
I shove his chest with both hands and he steps back, his eyes skimming over my body, marking me as his.
“You don’t want Dawson,” he says in a low voice. “You didn’t want him the night we met, and you sure as hell don’t want him now. The sooner you stop wasting your time and his, the better off you’ll be.”
Having absolutely no comeback, I stomp past him, and this time he lets me go.