Chapter Eighteen
Milestones
Kyle
Staring out at the expanse of exquisite lawns, Kyle smiled. Life was good. In fact, ‘good’ hardly did things justice. He couldn’t remember things ever being better. Amy wasn’t only in his life, but it seemed she was head over heels for him.
It had been three days since the night his friends had graced them with their presence. Three days of touching and kissing Amy, as well as spanking and disgracing her. Three days when he and Amy had grazed the edge of heaven so often, the destination had started to feel like home.
Of course, she was still working for him. It was just now that ‘work’ involved being his full-time lover. He had asked her to fulfill a couple of ‘housekeeping’ duties since—helping him out with phone calls and logistics—but there were no illusions about payment. He would settle any debts she still had and make sure her money worries were a thing of the past. In return, she’d stay and light up his world.
The matter of her trial period had been specifically addressed in a thorough and heartfelt conversation the day after Shaun and the others had been there. Watching a squirrel make a mad dash across the neatly cut grass, Kyle recalled her obvious nervousness on the subject.
“I didn’t know if you’d still want me hanging around, sir.” Her sardonic tone persuaded him she was half-jesting, but Amy had a bashfulness about her that was proving hard to shake off. Even hours riding his cock and kneeling at his feet hadn’t quite vanquished the ghost of life with Graham. “I mean, we only agreed on seven days.”
“Of the trial,” he corrected, arching an eyebrow at her as she shifted her weight. There was no reason to insist they have the chat in the confines of his study, but being there seemed to flick a submissive lever in her head, and suddenly, she reverted to the hot, pliant little girl who provided him with an evening footrest. “I already deposited your fifty-thousand bucks to the bank account details you gave me, so…” he shrugged. “I guess it’s up to you if you stay or not now.”
As if I’m going to just let her walk out of the door…
“Are you kidding?” she shrieked. “There’s no way I want to leave. Thank you so much for the money!”
“You earned the money, little girl.”
When push had come to shove, he had made her work for it…
“I can finally pay off the damn funeral home!” She sighed, stretching her arms out in front of her,
“Save your money for yourself.” He leaned forward, watching her responses carefully.
“But, sir,” she started. “They’ve been chasing me for payment for weeks, and—”
“I’ll deal with them.” He employed his firmest voice, hoping that was the end of the matter. But really, this was Amy. He knew better.
“No, sir.” She shook her head. “This is my problem, and working for you has helped me deal with it.”
“And while you’ve been working for me, I’ve fallen in love with you.” Really, there should have been a better way to tell her something so pivotal, but in his own determined fashion, he blurted it out regardless. “And I think you’ve fallen for me, too.”
That had silenced her pretty mouth almost as effectively as one of his gags.
“Did you hear me, little girl?” His gaze drilled into her, noticing the tears brimming in her soulful eyes.
“Y-yes, sir.” She sniffed, moving to wipe the tears away.
“Do you have anything to say?”
“I…” She stood there dumbfounded. “I think I love you, too, but that doesn’t make my debt yours.”
“Of course it does.” He beckoned her forward with one hand. “It makes all of you mine, and I’m damn sure going to take care of you.”
The knock at the door stirred Kyle from his memories, and glancing up, he barked a response.
“Come!” Randall was due to meet with him about Jonah, so no doubt the interruption was down to him.
“Sir?” Amy appeared from behind the heavy door.
“Hello, gorgeous.” Just the look of her large, expectant eyes made his cock stir. “Is Randall here?”
It was strange to be in the midst of such limbo. She had once, briefly, been his housekeeper and in showing his lawyer in, she was still performing that function, except everything was different. He wasn’t going to insist she wear a kinky outfit for the task because there was simply no need—Amy couldn’t wait to defer to him just as soon as Jonah was out of earshot each day.
“Yes.” She edged into the room. “Shall I show him in here, sir?”
“Please, and ask Jonah to join us in around ten minutes, will you?”
“Of course.” She glanced to the floor, as though mulling about what to say next, and instinctively, he guessed where her thoughts had gone. She was worrying about how much Jonah’s legal fees would be costing him and wrestling with the inevitable guilt that would be rising at the idea. “I want to thank you again for helping him this way… He’s not your son, and I know it’s costing a lot.”
“Amy.” He motioned for her to come closer. “Close the door.”
Her eyes implored him for a reprieve from yet another conversation about her money guilt, but pulling in an uncomfortable breath, she shuffled into his study and pushed the door closed behind her.
“Mr. Randall is waiting for you, sir.”
“Randall can wait.” He was firm on that point. “But you seem concerned about the money, and I want to reassure you.” Again.
He didn’t vocalize the final word but wondered if she’d heard it in his tone. He’d spent much of the last couple of days discussing the matter with her—not specifically Jonah’s issues, but all of it—and trying to get an understanding of what was owed to whom. He could tell it had pained her to have to admit the situation, and in any other circumstances, he might have relished her discomfort, but her money reticence was different.
He’d meant what he said about starting anew with her. He wanted to settle her debts, as though taking care of the financials would somehow alleviate the lingering guilt he sensed about the origins of his interest in her. Amy, of course, knew nothing of those murky beginnings. She didn’t know Kyle had once been her landlord, that he’d visited her late husband, or that he’d suggested Graham hand her over as ‘payment’. And that was how Kyle wanted it to stay. What they’d carved out together at Brock Hall was a slice of sublime perfection—he wouldn’t do anything to risk spoiling their nirvana.
“It just feels wrong.” Her brows knitted. “Taking your money to help my son, especially when you’re proposing to do so much to help me, too.”
“Not proposing.” He wanted to smile at her incessant passivity. While he enjoyed her sexual subservience, he’d do everything he could to bolster her into a more confident woman. “I am helping you, Amy.” Whether you like it or not. “And it’s not wrong.” Blowing out a breath, he rose to his feet and strode around his desk to join her. “There’s nothing wrong about us being together and solving problems together.”
“But it’s not together, is it, sir?” She craned her neck, her expression crestfallen. “I can never do anything to repay you.”
“You’re doing everything already.” Reaching for the side of her face, he stroked her soft skin with his thumb. “Being here with me, giving yourself to me, and letting me in.”
The flesh under his digit heated as she presumably contemplated what those things meant.
“It’s not enough.” She sighed.
The real irony was the reality couldn’t be further from the truth. Her existing debts amounted to nothing as far as he was concerned. He could clear every one of them and barely lose interest on his investments.
“It’s more than enough.” His fingers slid to her neck, gripping her gently. “I want you to know that.”
“But, sir …” The telltale emotions flickered in her beautiful eyes. “You don’t understand.”
“I’m trying to.” He tilted her jaw to ensure she met his eyes. “What you’ve brought into my life is worth more than any amount of fucking money.”
Her eyes flitted closed fleetingly as she absorbed his words. “I love that you mean that, sir, but I—”
“But nothing.” Seriously, he had to put a stop to her self-deprecating tone. She’d done nothing wrong, save for marrying a low-earner and juggling escalating finances. She had to stop acting as though she was the incompetent villain of the piece. “I am dealing with it, little girl, and if you defy me, I’ll make sure everyone gets to see your spanked bottom so they can decide whether it’s as red as your face will be.”
Inside the fabric prison of his pants, his cock strained at the tantalizing mental image.
“Sir.” From under his touch, her blush deepened. “I’m being serious!”
“As am I.” He lowered to plant a chaste kiss on her crown. “After everything I’ve asked of you, you can’t seriously believe I wouldn’t put you through it.”
“That’s beside the point, sir.” She nibbled at her lower lip as though contemplating the alleged punishment. “You can’t equate money with public punishments!”
He stifled laughter at her obvious embarrassment, though whether it was born of actual mortification or arousal, he couldn’t be sure. Both were possible.
“I can, and I am.” His fingers knotted in her hair. “You’re going to let me have my way on this, young lady.”
Her face softened at his terse tone. “You can’t call me young lady, sir. I’m nearly fifty!”
“You do seem to want to tell me what I can and can’t do today, little girl.” He wanted to kiss her again, wanted to cover her in his affection, and rail her over his desk, but sadly, Randall was waiting outside, and there were far less interesting conversations to be had.
“I’m just trying to be reasonable, sir.” She turned her face toward the heel of his hand and grazed her mouth over it.
“Well, thank you for your reason.” He was definitely going to have her again, just as soon as he could, but first, he’d ensure her ass was suitably contrite for all the pushback she was generating. Perhaps, in the haze of the last few days, he’d been too lenient on her. If that was the case, then he’d work hard to make sure he did better. “But your gratitude, companionship, and submission are more than sufficient, little girl.
“Now get out there and show Randall in.” Lowering the hand that had snaked around her middle, he slapped her backside playfully. She looked fabulous in the new playsuit he’d bought her, her figure just as appealing as most women half her age, but there were still occasions he missed the maid’s attire. “The poor old guy will be wondering what the hell’s happened.” He winked at her to convey there was no genuine displeasure but wanted her to move, regardless.
“Okay, sir.” She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. “I’ll get Mr. Randall.”
“And Jonah,” he reminded her.
“And Jonah.” She parroted back his words. “Oh, and sir?” Standing by the door, she glanced back his way.
“Hmmm?”
“I really am thankful for everything you’re doing.” She pressed her palm against the door frame.
“I know, little girl.” Moving to his desk, he perched on the hard surface as she wiggled away. “I know.”