Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Blaine
Walking into Killian’s office, I could tell he was agitated. He didn’t even glance at me as I leaned against his desk, fingers drumming like he was trying to solve all of the world’s problems. Meanwhile, I was in a damn good mood, but of course he couldn’t be bothered to notice.
“Since you desperately want me to ask, Killian… what’s wrong?”
He shot me a glare, then went back to the screen in front of him.
“Frederick just sent over the dates for the upcoming galas and events. Opportunities for me to acquire his business.”
“And you’re in a pissy mood because…?”
“Just something on my mind.” He stood, rubbing his temples.
That’s when he made his mistake. The idiot left his phone on the desk. For my precious eyes.
I snatched it up and frowned at the name flashing across the screen. Something on his mind, huh?
“Who’s Brielle?” I asked, savoring the way his head snapped toward me, eyes full of rage. Before I could scroll, he lunged, ripped the phone from my hands, and shoved it in his back pocket.
“She is none of your concern,” he ground out.
“As much as I’d love to respect that,” I smirked, “I can’t. For obvious reasons.”
His attempts to ignored me failed miserably as I egged him on. “So you’re punishing me with a dry spell, but you can text any woman you want without consequence?” I crossed my arms.
“I think with my brain. You think with your dick. There’s no comparison between us.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is that really all you’ve got when it comes to me? Because honestly, it’s getting old.”
He didn’t bite, just kept pacing the floor like a caged animal, jaw tight, flustered. More pissy than usual. Something was on his mind… or someone. And because of the steel rod shoved permanently up his ass, he wasn’t going to tell me.
So I pulled out my phone to find out for myself. The fucker was lucky I cared enough about him to even go behind his back.
If anyone had intel, it would be George and Benjamin—Killian’s driver and butler. Between the two of them, they knew everything.
Do either of you have any idea who Brielle is?
A pause. Then:
George
A hi would be nice…
Benjamin
Mr. Porter, gossip is not a pleasantry Mr. Russel would appreciate.
That said, George mentioned he most likely met her at a library.
George
He’s made two visits so far. Local library. Each time, I saw him walk in with a small child who’d wandered off.
My brows shot up.
And why am I just finding this out now?
Benjamin
Because, sir, you don’t have the best track record for keeping a secret.
George
He’s trying to say you talk too much.
Benjamin
Thank you, George.
Having heard enough from those idiots, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and looked over at Killian. The question about Brielle sat heavy on my tongue, but I swallowed it down. Fuck, I really can’t keep a secret…
But lately, I’d been getting better at it.
Because unbeknownst to Lucifer himself, I’d become a full-time sugar daddy to the one-night stand he ordered me to stay away from. It sounded worse actually articulating it, but labels didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sunshine was mine. And I wasn’t letting her go.
If that meant suffering the near-physical pain of lying to the devil, then so be it. I wouldn’t let Killian decide my fate—or our fate.
“Speaking of punishing you with a dry spell,” Killian said suddenly, his tone deceptively casual, “it seems you’re not too angry with me anymore for forcing you to end things with… Sunshine, was it? Finally agree it was the right decision?”
The audacity. He didn’t even remember her name—the name of the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
To answer his question? No. Fuck you for trying to keep me away from the future mother of my children.
“The best decision I’ve made for myself,” I replied smoothly instead, stroking his ego like the obedient dog he was training.
“Glad you came to your senses. Whatever you did to Maxwell the other day to make him accept, keep it up. You haven’t scored that well in months.”
I only nodded. Sunshine had been the real weapon that night, the eye candy that threw Maxwell so far off his game he practically handed me the deal.
Without her, I doubted I’d have landed it at $750 million.
If he’d been his usual arrogant self, he’d have either demanded a billion or laughed in my face.
And Lucifer, bless his cold, black heart, actually thought I’d pulled it off alone.
Whatever you did to Maxwell the other day to make him accept, keep it up…
Oh, I would.
Because technically, by telling me to repeat my performance, Killian had just granted me a free pass. As long as I kept delivering deals, I had full access to my Sunshine. So long as I kept her hidden.
Sounds like a plan.
“I’ll do my best, Kiki.”
His expression soured at the nickname, and I chuckled as I pushed off his desk and headed for the door.
Sounds like a plan, indeed.
After wrapping up at the office, it was creeping past six, close to seven, and I wasn’t sure if Sunshine would even come over tonight.
But stepping into my penthouse, the doubt evaporated instantly.
The sweet aroma of baked cookies hit me first. Then I noticed the dinner spread on the island, pans on the stove, two plates set neatly at the table. But nothing compared to the sight waiting for me in front of the oven.
Maia.
Bent forward, checking on the tray inside, her boyshorts hugging every curve of her ass, lace-trimmed camisole clinging to her damp skin. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, strands sticking to the light sheen of sweat on her neck. All glowy. So fucking edible… and all mine.
My cock twitched behind my zipper before she even turned to face me.
“Welcome home, Mr. Porter.” She smiled softly, sweet and innocent in a way that only made my blood run hotter. “Sorry for the mess, but I wanted to do something nice, to thank you for the… generous deposit in my account.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets, fighting to play it cool as I walked closer, eyes devouring her like a starving man. Just looking at her, I wanted to give her more. Half a million just for smiling at me. Ten times that because she fucking cooked.
But I held back. Not because she wasn’t worth it… she was worth everything.
I just didn’t want to scare her off with how easily I’d give her the whole world. But I would. Slowly but surely.
“Sunshine… you cooked for me. You baked for me. And you look sexy as hell.”
“For you,” she added lightly, and I stilled, brows furrowing.
“For me,” I echoed. “That’s right. You look sexy as hell for me. At this rate, you’re practically asking for kitchen sex.”
She shook her head, scooping up the trays and gliding past me. “That’s unsanitary.”
I scoffed, rolling up my sleeves as I trailed after her. “Please. We’ve had sex in much more questionable places.”
She shot me a glare over her shoulder, placing the dishes on the table with a delicate clink. “And who’s to blame for that, Mr. Porter?”
My hands found her waist before I even thought about it, pulling her back against me. Her scent. Sweet vanilla and sweat and woman flooded my senses. My lips brushed the shell of her ear, ready to ruin dinner entirely. But she pressed a finger to my mouth.
“We’re going to eat dinner, and then I’m going to shower and go to bed.”
I groaned dramatically. “So not only is Killian punishing me with a dry spell, but you are too, Sunshine?”
She turned in my hold, eyes gleaming, forcing me to meet them instead of staring down her cleavage. “Killian’s punishing you with a dry spell because he wants you to be more responsible with Blaine Jr. I’m punishing you with a dry spell because Blaine Jr. has a bad habit of punishing me.”
I blinked at her, deadpan. “I’m assuming Blaine Jr. is supposed to be my dick.”
She patted my chest like it was obvious. “Correct.”
I bit back a grin, letting her slip away to fetch glasses and a bottle of wine.
Watching her move around my kitchen, her bare legs peeking out from those shorts, her ass swaying just enough to keep my blood boiling, I realized something I hated admitting out loud.
I was attached. Completely, hopelessly attached.
She came back, pulling out my chair for me with a smug little grin. I sat, bemused, and she leaned down to press a teasing kiss against my lips before slipping into the seat beside me.
I folded my hands beneath my chin, staring openly, devouring her with my eyes while she fussed with the wine bottle.
Maia, my Sunshine. Absolutely one of a kind. And fuck me, I wasn’t ever letting her go.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head. I only shook mine. She rolled her eyes, playful, before focusing back on her plate.
I forked up a bite of pasta, and the moment it hit my tongue I nearly groaned. “Dammit, Sunshine…”
“Pretty good, hmm?” she teased, lips quirking.
I didn’t answer right away, just chewed, swallowed, then leaned back. “I already asked you to marry me once, didn’t I?”
Her giggle rang out like music, sweet and innocent, while I basked in the thought of it not being a joke.
Killian’s words from earlier echoed in my head—galas, dinners, endless events lined up across the globe. Japan, the UK, France. Normally, I’d trail after him like a dutiful lost puppy, crashing in his guest rooms, pretending I wasn’t bored out of my fucking mind.
But now?
Now I was a sugar daddy. With obligations. With… Sunshine. My sugar baby that sat across from me, twirling pasta on her fork and chewing happily, completely oblivious to how she was unraveling me.
And I couldn’t stop picturing it: her beside me on my jet, wrapped in silk while sipping champagne. Us checking into a luxury suite in Tokyo, London, Paris, anywhere but here, anywhere away from Killian’s constant shadow.
The fantasy burned hotter the longer I watched her eat, sauce on her lips, shoulders bare under lace.
Every instinct in me screamed to drag her off that chair, bend her over the damn table, and fuck her as a punishment for cooking dinner, for being so fucking adorable until she couldn’t remember her own name, until the only word left on her lips was mine.
The same lips I wanted to lick clean right now.
It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t civilized. It was raw, primal, a hunger I didn’t even recognize in myself until her.
Because this messy, sexy, innocent goddess of a woman?
She was mine. Fucking mine.