27. Too Much PDA
27
TOO MUCH PDA
CHARLES
I’m sitting in the back seat of my car beside Jimmy, who is going nonstop about how much he loves the new version of me. Whatever the hell that means.
Every time I turn my head and look at him, I mentally curse. Why the hell am I not in the office, where I can stare at my wife through the glass separator?
I completely zone out and instead wonder what she must be doing right now. Possibly scribbling something on those colorful notepads, making lists of things and tasks.
“Are you even listening?” Jimmy shakes me.
“What?” I turn my head toward him. “What did you say?”
“Your phone is ringing, man. Where the fuck are you?”
With renewed excitement, I check my phone, hoping it’s her, but that bubble breaks fast.
“Hello, Grandma. Everything okay?”
“Hello, Charles. Yes, all is fine,” she replies in her usual calm tone. “I have some good news for you. I just received a call from Tim Baldwin, and it seems they’ve done an unofficial vote and you were unanimously voted in as the next CEO of the Hawthorne family business. The official meeting is next week. I’m very proud of you, Charles.” Rare affection laces her voice, and something warm finds its home in my chest.
“Next week? But wasn’t it scheduled for February?”
“It was. I guess they don’t see a point in dragging this matter out further.” Grandma takes a pause, and there’s a hint of something akin to curiosity in her voice. “I’m sure you being on the news threatening reporters and all over social media making pancakes with Daisy’s dad only strengthened your cause. Did Jimmy put you up to it?”
“You think it was staged?” My fist tightens around my cellphone. “My wife was in danger. Aren’t you the one who taught me to put family and its reputation above anything else?”
But Grandma remains quiet, as if she’s expecting more clarification.
“Jason Price is a good person with a terminal illness,” I continue. “If spending a few hours of my time with him makes him happy, then I don’t mind, especially since he might not even remember my face after a while.” Just saying the words sobers me, and my stomach sinks with disappointment.
“In that case, I’m happy for you. I was worried you married Daisy to become the CEO. She’s definitely extremely loyal and cares about you enough to put up with your workaholic ways.”
The phone suddenly feels too heavy in my hand.
“I’m not opposed to playing fair tricks in business, especially when people on the other side of the table make such illogical demands. But mixing relationships and business is never a good idea. There are some crevices in life where business has no place, and married life is one of them.”
A strange sensation like heartburn intensifies in my chest, even after the call ends.
“All good?” Jimmy asks.
“It was my grandmother. The board has unofficially voted for me as the next CEO of the Hawthorne business.” There’s a disconnect between my body and mind, everything moving in slow motion as I say the words out loud.
Is this fucking it?
I’m still struggling with my own thoughts when my PR manager throws himself at me and hugs me like a child hugging his favorite toy. I stiffen at the contact, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“Why aren’t you shouting from the rooftops? Today is the day we’ve been fucking working for all these years. We’ve got to celebrate. I’ll call Daisy to plan a big celebration.”
“She doesn’t need to do anything. She’s my wife, not your assistant.” My jaw clenches so tight it hurts as I pluck the phone out of his hand.
The excitement drains from him, replaced by a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Sometimes it’s hard to remember she has two roles in your company now.”
“She only has one role, and that’s being my wife.”
But instead of cowering beside the door as I had hoped, Jimmy looks at me with furrowed brows. “Is Daisy leaving the company? Is she pregnant?”
“What the fuck? Why would you even say that?”
“Why else would she stop working for you?”
“She’s not quitting, dammit. What I mean is that everyone needs to stop dumping their work on her.” I fix him with a scathing look. “We have a capable event management team. If you need a party, go to them. Daisy has enough on her plate.” My words hang in the air as I flick the partition switch.
The tinted-black glass slides down, and Dave, seated in the passenger seat, glances over his shoulder.
“We’ll be heading to work,” I relay. “But first, let’s drop Mr. Garcia at his office.”
“Thanks for not abandoning me in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like you haven’t done that in the past.”
“The sidewalk’s looking pretty inviting right about now.”
Jimmy falls silent, but the teasing grin remains. Ignoring him, I start typing a text to Daisy.
Me: I’m heading back to the office. Cancel all my meetings for the day. I need to tell you something important.
My heart quickens as I lean back in my seat.
Everything I’ve been working for over the years is finally happening, and she’s the only person I want to celebrate with right now.
She gave up everything, even her dream of marrying for love, to help me. A prick of unease hits my chest, but then I remember her delighted, rosy face from this morning as we jumped into the shower together.
No, she’s happy. She’s not missing out on anything.
I repeat those words in my head throughout the ride.
I practically skip out of my car when Steve parks it in the parking lot, my fingers tingling as I imagine Daisy’s reaction to the news. My feet bounce, hoping the elevator will go up faster. But when I reach my office floor and enter my private office area, Daisy’s chair is empty.
What the fuck? Where is she?
Frantically looking around, I check the coffee corner and conference room, but she’s nowhere to be found.
The last two times I couldn’t find her, she was inside a collapsing building or held hostage by her ex.
Before my thoughts can turn cynical, I send her a text.
Me: Where are you?
Daisy: I’m at the café grabbing a latte. Since you canceled all the meetings, I figured we must have some super crisis. I’m just refueling with caffeine to be most useful for you, boss.
Thank fuck she’s safe. But as much as I love her sass, there are quite a few things I don’t like in her text. First and foremost, I didn’t know she still goes to that overly crowded ground-floor café to get herself coffee. She’s my wife now, for heaven’s sake.
And then she referred to me as “boss.” After hearing “husband” from her sultry voice, I don’t want her to call me anything else.
My fingers dig into the phone in my hand as I wait a second and then another before marching back into the elevator.
I step out in the ground-floor lobby, and for a beat, nothing changes until my staff realizes it’s me.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne.”
There’s a round of collective greetings, and the sound of casual conversations die away. I reply with a nod, keeping my gaze straight ahead as I make my way to the café with hurried steps.
Heads continue to turn in my direction, often accompanied by a surprised gasp. Of course they’re surprised. Except for on opening day, I don’t remember setting foot in this establishment. Even that day, I stayed only long enough to cut the ribbon and receive the first cup of coffee.
My eyes scan the area, and there she is. With her back toward me, Daisy is busy talking to someone. I’d recognize her anywhere since she’s wearing her statement hair clip with a butterfly today.
I take a step forward to walk closer to her where she’s standing in a queue. As I approach, the line starts to shorten as people make space for me, and it only takes a few more beats before Daisy takes note of the dying noise around her. She finally looks over her shoulder, and I’m right behind her.
“Charles? What are you doing here ?” Her voice is laced with surprise and a touch of disapproval, as if I’ve made a huge mistake subtly reminding my staff that they’re paid to work and not to squander their time.
I raise a brow, aware that we have some not-so-discreet spectators who are doing a poor job of minding their own business. For once, I don’t hate it. Maybe it’s because I’m in Hawthorne Tower—my territory—or maybe it’s because my heart knows she’s right here.
Daisy’s eyes go wide as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s so still, like a statue, as if my hand drifting toward her cheeks is a bomb ready to detonate any second. I almost want to laugh.
“I have to tell you something. Let’s go.”
My words seem to break her stupor, and she rolls her shoulders back.
“But I haven’t placed my order yet. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll join you soon.” She squints her eyes.
Why did I think she’d ever make it easy?
“Mrs. Hawthorne. You’re leaving with me right now. I’ll make sure your favorite latte is waiting for you at your desk before you’re there.”
“Charles, you can’t—”
Her rebuttal gets trapped in her throat as I hold her face and kiss her, effectively shutting her down.
The moment my lips touch her, she stiffens, but I don’t stop. I kiss her until she melts in my arms and her soft hands clutch my suit jacket.
In this very instant, I don’t care that I’m standing in a room full of people. I don’t care that I’m kissing my assistant-slash-wife in front of my whole staff.
When I pull back, she makes a whining sound that goes straight to my cock like a well-aimed bullet.
“Are you done being difficult?” I whisper.
“Y-you kissed me. You freaking kissed me in front of everyone.” Her voice matches mine.
Knowing she’ll soon find her bearings and once again make it difficult for me to take her away, I grab her hand and pull her toward the elevators. Her blazing eyes meet mine in the mirrored walls.
“You better have a really good reason to do that, otherwise I’m going to kill you.”
Her anger has the opposite effect on me, and I smirk. “How are you not scared of me, my dear wife?”
But she doesn’t entertain my words. Daisy places her hands over her hips. “Tell me, what’s so urgent that it couldn’t even wait until I had a cup of coffee?”
“I never said urgent . It’s important. There’s a difference between the two.”
The elevator stops, and unease settles in my chest.
Why is it so important for me to share the news with Daisy?
She’s temporary, after all, and if these past few days have taught me anything, it’s that she wants things in life I can never provide—love, affection, family.
“Hey, where are you going?” she says, her steps hurried to match mine, as I don’t stop at her desk but walk inside my office. “So what’s this non-urgent, yet important news?”
“The board has unanimously agreed to make me CEO.” The excitement coursing through my veins minutes ago has vanished, and I have no clue why.
The irritated creases on Daisy’s forehead soften. Her mouth opens and closes as if she’s trying to say something, but no words come out. And then she rushes into my arms with such speed that I have to take two steps back to find my balance.
She finally gasps. “Is it really true?”
All my previous anxiety evaporates in an instant in the wake of her happiness. I nod and her hands loop behind my neck, her bottom resting against my forearms as she sticks to me like a koala bear with a giant smile.
“You did it, Charles. You finally got those stupid old men to see that there’s no one more deserving than you to lead your family’s business.”
I’ve heard those words numerous times, but from her mouth, I know they’re not merely words. They’re truth.
“It’s not I, but we. We did it together. I couldn’t have done any of this without you, and I’m not just talking about now.” I motion to the tiny space between us. “I’m referring to all the work you’ve done all the previous years.”
When her pink lips curl up, I feel like someone has hit my heart with a gong.
She has no fucking idea how precious she is to me.
And then a teasing, knowing smile returns to her face. “Who knew you were such a softie at heart.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I can once again get you accustomed to the hardest part of me.”
And I’m not kidding. I’ve never been so fucking hard.
Everything I’ve wanted is right in front of me, and the woman in my arms is the most important among all.
A blush creeps up on Daisy’s face like every other time I say something dirty to her. The pink hue starts from her cheeks, crawling down to her chin and neck. I love knowing I’m the reason behind her flustered state.
She makes an attempt to get away from my hold, but I don’t let her.
“Charles!” She squeals as I walk farther into my office. “Put me down.”
“Nope. You might have jumped into my arms on your own, but I’m the one who decides when you leave, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“What do you mean?” She squeals once again as I settle her down on my chair behind my desk and lean forward.
“I want to thank you.” I push her curl behind her ear, and my hands drift to her hair clip.
“Charles, I cannot accept another damn expensive gift.”
“Good. Because I’m not planning on giving you anything. I just have words today.”
Her irritated brows relax as her lips curl into a smile. “Now this will be a change. Charles A. Hawthorne has words.”
“Don’t worry, this is exclusively for my wife.” For some reason, the words that sit right on my tongue don’t find their way out, and I’m about to say some nonsense when Daisy holds my face in her hands.
“Charles, if you ever need a person to share something with, I’m always here.”
My hands rest above hers. I’m really fucking in her debt for her unconditional support, even when it comes with a heavy dose of craziness. “I usually do such talking with my cousins. But it’s not just about me today. I couldn’t have done this without you. Thanks for never leaving my side and for sticking with me.”
She smiles, so soft, so genuine. “I’m happy you think so. But you’ve spent all your life working toward this. I can’t say the same. I’m sure there’re many people who have done bigger things than handling your calls and preparing for your meetings.”
“You do much more than that. You and I both know it.” I pin her with my gaze. “But today, I want to celebrate.” I remove my suit jacket and deliberately place it onto the desk before unfastening my cufflinks.
Daisy has this strange fascination with my forearms. In the early years, I thought she was intimidated by me, like my past assistants, avoiding direct eye contact. But now I know how much they turn her on.
She bites her lip, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “Celebrating? Like with wine?” Her gaze shifts from me to the bar cabinet.
“Oh, I have something stronger in mind.” I grin before dropping to my knees in front of her.
She gasps. “Charles, what are you doing?”
“Just wait. Not everything needs to be told in words.”
“Are you insane? The door is unlocked. Anyone could walk in!”
Even though it’s not that easy for just anyone to walk up to my private floor, I flick the button under my desk and the office door locks.
“Happy? No one is going to disturb us now.”
“B-but this is your office.” Her words quiver as my hands graze her legs, slowly skating upward, tracing the goose bumps at the back of her knees, then crawling up to her thighs and under her skirt.
“And you are my wife. I have the right to do whatever I want. Don’t I?” I tap my ring finger where my wedding band sits snugly over her silk panties.
“Holy freaking shit! This is not a dream.” Daisy’s jaw drops as I tug the side zipper of her skirt lower.
“Dream about getting fucked in my office often, butterfly?” I smirk, helping her get up just enough so her skirt drops over her feet and those towering heels.
I know I have.
“I wouldn’t say often.” Her words turn into a moan as I pull her forward before drawing her panties to the side and placing my lips right over her sex.
Fuck, she tastes good.
“So do you have any objections to me making you come so hard, you see stars during the day, my dear wife?”
She’s quiet for a second and then slowly shakes her head.
“Good answer.” I kiss my way up to her stomach, covered in a silk blouse. My single aim is to map every inch of her body with my mouth. My tongue swirls around the clothed, peaked indentation of her nipple before taking it into my mouth while pinching the other with my thumb and forefinger.
She moans loudly, and a groan rumbles in my chest.
I kiss her neck, then finally reach her lips. Our mouths crash. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I don’t see anything other than her right now.
I am guided by desire and nothing else, with one goal—her pleasure.
My tongue strokes against her closed lips, seeking, demanding entry, and as always, she yields.
In an attempt to deepen the kiss, I cup the back of her head, and she tugs on my hair.
I kiss her like I’m drowning and she’s the harbor. She kisses me like she’s in a desert, and I’m a lake surrounded by the shade of green trees.
We are desperate. We are wild.
In this moment, we are a perfect match .
But nothing has been enough with Daisy.
I need more. I need everything with her.
When I pull away, she moans my name in protest. “Charles.”
“You keep at it, butterfly. I’m not stopping until you’re crying my name so hard that you’re heard in the café downstairs.”
“Fuck, Charles. You really upped your dirty talk game.”
This girl makes me smile in the most unlikely times. I’m back at eye level with her sex and look up to find her head rolled back against the headrest.
“I had to, since it makes you so fucking wet, my dear wife.” I suck her through her panties before tugging them down, and once again, the sight of her naked sex, soaking wet and ready for me, is like a needed shot of adrenaline.
Her grip tightens on my hair as I push her legs further apart, her knees touching the two armrests.
“Holy crap.” She groans, her eyes closed as I delve in.
My focus is her swollen clit as I lick and suck until Daisy is writhing and bucking in my chair. In my office. The place that has witnessed so many of our interactions. But this is the most memorable— her chanting my name, begging me to not stop.
Doesn’t she know I would rather die than stop?
My tongue buries inside her, my broad shoulders keeping her legs pushed open, and her back arches before she comes with a loud wail.
But I’m still not satisfied.
Will I ever be when it comes to her?
My tongue once again touches her clit, and Daisy lets go of my hair.
“No, Charles. No…I can’t anymore.” Her hands, about to come between me and her sex, halt when I slide a finger inside her. My mouth is back on her clit as I pull out before pushing back in.
In and out, until I find a pace that gets her hands back in my hair and my name back on her lips in that moaning tone.
Her wetness coats my hands and my jaw, and her cries fill the space between the walls of my office. My cock is throbbing painfully behind my zipper when I rise.
Daisy doesn’t make any moves, as if she’s too boneless to even lift a limb. She stares up at me, cheeks flushed with that rosy-pink color. There’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, causing some of her hair to stick to her skin.
In all, she looks breathtaking.
“That was the best kind of celebration,” she whispers in a breathy voice.
My lips curl up as I unbuckle my belt. “What made you think it was over, butterfly?”