Chapter Fourteen
Hunger
Amy
Snuggling into the large robe Kyle had found for her, Amy watched as her son and her lover made small talk about the appetizers at Worthington’s. With Jonah safely back at Brock Hall and seemingly content with his evening, the conversation seemed normal enough, but it was the things not said that she noted the most.
She never mentioned how much she’d also enjoyed the food there, probably because she wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Jonah yet. At some point, he would want to know more about the night she’d first gotten to know Kyle and how the arrangement blooming before them had come to fruition, but not then.
She couldn’t discuss things with Jonah when the crackle of magnetism tugging her to Kyle was so strong, she could almost feel it. Not when all she could think about was the elusive vow Kyle had made to her—he wanted to take her somewhere she’d never been before…
What did that mean? Her pulse sped up at the thought.
Similarly, Kyle didn’t divulge who owned the restaurant when Jonah complimented the place, as though he, too, was impatient to move past the pleasantries and satisfy the desire that was becoming increasingly difficult to control.
The details of Jonah’s outing seemed tiny and irrelevant in the ballooning expanse of sexual tension that was growing in the huge hallway. It was a pressure that started in the center of her chest and mushroomed, stretching out past her pulsing clit to every extremity and swallowing up the air around her until she struggled to take another breath.
Please. She sent the word to Kyle silently. Make our excuses and wrap this up. I need you.
She wanted to hear how Jonah’s time with his friends had been, wanted to know how he was coping amid all the stress surrounding his studies and his trial, but at another time—when she could think straight, and her next breath wasn’t reliant on the light shining in Kyle’s eyes.
Kyle glanced her way, as if he had heard her thoughts. “I’m happy you had a good time, Jonah.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Jonah shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly able to read the room. “I think I’ll head to bed.”
“Good idea, love.” Had she sounded a little too eager? “You must be tired.”
“Right.” Jonah’s attention slid between them, his gaze lingering on the fact she was barefoot and dressed only in a robe, though he didn’t comment about her attire. “Good night, then. We’ll catch up at breakfast.”
He forced a smile as he started the long trek up Kyle’s enormous staircase, only glancing back once when he reached the galleried landing. She watched his progress until he disappeared from view, her heart drumming faster as the energy in the hall ratcheted.
“That was awkward.” Ultimately, she spoke to ease the tension knotting in her body, but she could see the relief on Kyle’s face as he walked toward her.
“He said it himself.” He eased the loose strands of her hair that had been captured inside the robe. “He knows there’s something going on between us.”
“Yes.” She cringed, recalling the earlier conversation. “But did we have to give him such a graphic illustration, sir?”
“Come on now.” Kyle’s hand slid to the back of her neck. “I didn’t have you bent over the table as he walked in, Amy. We’ve been very conservative.”
His lips curled at the quip, and instinctively, she burst into laughter at the preposterous mental image he’d painted. The idea of being caught fucking by her grown-up son was not the type of humiliation she was into.
“True.” It felt good to smile at his reasoning. Amy sensed some of the disquiet easing from her shoulders. “This is just new to me. There hasn’t been anyone else since Graham, and well… he and I didn’t exactly have the most carnal relationship.”
Kyle’s lips twitched. “Understood, but if it’s okay, I’d rather not think about you and your husband together.”
“Fair enough.” She craned her neck to look at his handsome face. “I’m just sorry I never got to meet you when he was alive. Maybe we could have been friends?”
It still seemed strange to think that Kyle and Graham had professional links. Graham’s work had always seemed so dull, whereas Kyle’s had a mysterious and tantalizing quality— hell, she still didn’t even know how he’d made his money—she couldn’t see many scenarios where the two men would have crossed paths.
“I don’t think I would have only wanted to be your friend …” His voice had adopted that same soothing quality that had calmed her so many times before. “The time wasn’t right then, little girl, but it is now.”
“I guess so, sir.”
She reached for his face, skimming her fingers over his soft, dark stubble. His hair was starting to gray in places, but rather than perturb, the sign of his age only heightened her desire. She wanted him because he was so self-assured and experienced. It was, though, the first time she’d taken the initiative to touch him proactively, and his eyes widened at her temerity.
“What are you doing, little girl?” His tone was amused, but the query elevated her already racing pulse.
What did it matter how Graham had known Kyle? Her husband was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Despite her qualms about his view of what was happening at Brock Hall, Graham didn’t get an opinion on what she chose to do next. Whatever her late husband’s misgivings might have been, she was ready for a shot of genuine happiness.
“Touching you.” Her fingertips stilled as their gazes collided. Had she overstepped some unspoken line by caressing him? She was only his housekeeper after all, except she wasn’t, was she? Their burgeoning relationship had already been established. “I want you, sir.”
“I know.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the edge of her wrist. “And you shall have me, Amy, but do me the courtesy of remembering who’s in charge.”
“Yes, sir.” Flushing, her wrist moved to withdraw, but his hand captured it in a heartbeat, holding it in place as he continued.
“Who’s in charge, little girl?” His voice had shifted again, taking on that more commanding tone he employed when she was at his feet.
“You are, sir.” There was no shame in her admission. She’d heard the way Shaun had referred to him as William earlier and had fleetingly wondered why she’d never been permitted to use his first name, but the will to defer to him had become so ingrained that ‘sir’ seemed to suit him better. Perhaps he’d been right to insist she used it? “You’re in charge.”
“I’m glad we’re clear about that.” He tugged her hand to his lips and grazed a line of hot kisses over the edge of her palm, sending electricity speeding along her arm. “Because I’m just about ready to give you everything I’ve got, Amy.”
She blinked at him, certain she must have misheard. “Sir?”
Everything? Had he just said everything?
“What do you mean?”
His thumb stroked a small circle in the middle of her palm, the rhythmic nature of the deed hypnotizing her.
“This.” He gestured around at the gigantic hall with a nod of his head. “Brock Hall, the money, but more than that… me.”
She pulled in a breath, unsure if this was all really happening. She’d had similar dreams since she’d been there, nights where visions had fooled her into thinking she could bend Kyle to her will and secure the kind of fairy tale future for herself and her sons that surely never happened in real life, but the motion of his digit assured her she was not dreaming.
They were really there in the entrance to his mansion.
He was really saying those things.
This is happening.
“I…” Her jaw fell open as she considered the enormity of what he might mean. He was ready to give her everything ? Up until then, he’d been more than generous, giving her what she needed for a price, but his new assertion sounded like there was feeling behind it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He captured her hand in his and turned to the stairs, his long strides compelling her to follow him.
Struggling to catch up, she glanced his way as they ascended the steps, but his focus remained fixed on the landing above and wherever he had in mind to take her after that. As they reached the top step, she assumed he’d turn right to take her to the small but comfortable room he’d assigned her. She was bewildered then to find him starting in the other direction and heading off down a corridor she couldn’t recall ever walking before.
“Sir?” She whispered the word, even though she knew Jonah was located in the opposite direction and there was nobody else around. “Where are we going?”
“I already told you.” His voice was playful. “In a matter of speaking.”
She hardly noticed the no-doubt priceless artwork adorning the walls as he led her past the canvases, her attention glued to his profile.
Why is he talking in riddles? He hasn’t told me anything.
“I said I’d take you somewhere you’ve never been before.” His smile sent the butterflies in her stomach into a fresh frenzy. “So that’s where we’re going.”
“Okay.” She swallowed, grappling for composure. Kyle had managed to get her on the back foot again. She hadn’t seen the curveball coming.
Glancing around as they walked, she tried frantically to find her bearings with something she recognized—a light fitting perhaps, a statue or a photograph—but there was nothing. She was sure she’d never been to this part of the house.
“Sir.” In the end, she felt bound to say something, anything to break the spell he seemed to have cast over her. “Please, you’re starting to frighten me.”
His quiet determination was unnerving, especially when she was being propelled along with him. Why didn’t he just tell her what was on his mind—especially after the revelation downstairs? Kyle had never seemed to have a problem being direct before, so what had brought about his sudden reticence?
“Little girl.” His voice was a sigh as he stopped abruptly, bringing her to an equally hasty halt, although, inevitably, she appeared to manage it with considerably less grace than Kyle. “Look at me.”
He needn’t have bothered with that order. Her gaze was on his face even as he spoke, the thunder in his eyes convincing her he was angry at her confession, though she couldn’t work out why. She’d only asked a question, hadn’t she? It wasn’t her fault he’d thrown her for a loop with the unexpected end to the evening.
“I just,”—her free hand squeezed his in an imploring gesture—“don’t know what you want from me.”
His dark eyebrow arched, his lips parting. “Does the fact I want to take you to my bed frighten you, Amy?”
Wait, what?
She glanced at the large double doors at the end of the hall. His bed?
Oh my God.
“I didn’t know this was your bedroom, sir.”
“No.” He sounded annoyingly smug as he brushed against her and gently pinned her to the wall. “You didn’t because you’ve never been there. No one goes there except me, little girl.”
“No one?” She wasn’t even sure if she’d said that out loud until his tempting lips repeated them.
“No one.” His smile was taunting. “Until you.”
Fuck.
“Oh…”
Gazing up at him, she couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed or ecstatic.
“So?” Grabbing her other hand, he stretched her arms above her head until she was spread-eagled against the wall. “Any complaints you’d like to register before we proceed?”
Pinioned by the strength of his hard body, she breathed in the scent of him and ground her hips against his erection. She wished he would just kiss her. She wanted to feel his authority, needed him over her, in her, to be his again. She smiled, already knowing how amazing those things would be when he chose to bestow them.
“No complaints, sir.”