Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
MAGNOLIA
H is office shower was luxurious, compared to the little old one in my apartment. Tons of pressure and hot water.
“I don’t think my breasts are that dirty,” I mused as he soaped them repeatedly.
“I disagree. They’re filthy.”
I tried not to giggle and failed. “I assume you’re a boob man.”
“ Your boobs,” he conceded. “They’re spectacular.”
We finished and dried off. I felt shy suddenly, heading to the office and gathering my clothes off the floor, clutching the towel around me tight in my hand. In the bathroom, I turned, tugging my leggings on, unable to find my underwear. Bane came in, watching me for a moment, then slid his arm around my waist. “Are you hiding from me, Myers?”
“Um, maybe.”
He pulled me tight to his chest, cupping my breasts in his large hands. “Don’t. You’re beautiful.” He kissed my shoulder. “Every single inch of you.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
He laughed low in his chest, pressing his lips to my head. “Your skin is like silk. I love touching it. Touching you. Your curves drive me wild. Every fantasy I ever had about you didn’t do us justice. The way you felt around me.” He lowered his head, his lips resting against my ear. “The way it felt to be inside you. Perfection. You are incredible. Understand me?”
“Okay,” I squeaked.
“I’m going to clean up the chair and go get one from the supply room downstairs. Then I’m going to take you to lunch.”
“I’ll tidy the office a bit. But, ah, I cooked some meat earlier. I could make us more sandwiches.”
“Mmm. I can’t resist one of your sandwiches.” He pressed another kiss to my head. “We’ll finish here and go.” He paused. “Magnolia…”
He waited until I met his eyes in the mirror. “Beautiful. You are incredibly beautiful. Don’t forget that.”
Then he was gone, leaving me to dress in private.
I looked in the mirror. I looked like me, although my lips were swollen and my hair was a disaster. I had a smile on my lips, and my eyes looked different. Relaxed.
I traced my mouth with my finger. I wasn’t used to sweet Bane. His compliments were genuine. His voice was low and the way he looked at me sincere. He really thought I was beautiful. I had to admit, while we were together, he made me feel that way. There was no doubting his passion. His need.
I cast one last look in the mirror and finished dressing. I pushed my bra into my bag and found my underwear swinging from the hotel on the model. Blushing, I added it to my bag, then commenced gathering up the papers and desk items. We had caused quite a mess. I had never felt passion so strongly before. The need for someone as intense as I had for Bane. I tried not to giggle as I straightened things up.
He appeared, pushing a chair and an empty box. Our eyes met, his blue soft and tender as he looked at me. The change in his expression caught me off guard. It was warm and open. His lips were curled into a smile. The dimple I saw so rarely was on full display. He was intoxicatingly handsome.
We were quiet as we cleaned up, and soon, all traces of what had occurred were gone.
“What will you do with the, ah, chair remnants?”
He chuckled. “I’ll tell maintenance I leaned back too far, the chair broke, and I gouged the desk as it did. They’ll fix it, I’ll get my incredible assistant to order me a new chair, and no one will be the wiser.” He stroked my cheek. “And I’ll smile every time I run my fingers over the marks or look at the top of my desk. I’ll never forget the sight of you splayed out on the top, wet and begging me.”
I looked away, and he chuckled. “Myers, have I discovered another trait? Talking about sex makes you uncomfortable?”
“Talking about sex with you does,” I admitted. “It wasn’t expected today.”
He cinched his arm around me, drawing me close. “But enjoyed.”
“Yes.”
“And something that you want to do again?”
“Yes. But, Bane?—”
He silenced me with a kiss. “We’ll figure it out. Now, let’s get out of here.”
“Okay.”
BANE
I sat on Myers’s love seat, looking around in curiosity at things I hadn’t noticed last time I was here. There was a sewing machine in the corner, a basket of material on the floor beside it, lace spilling over the top. Vintage curtains hung in the windows, and the floor was covered with old rugs.
She came in, carrying two plates, handing me one. I was starving, and I picked up a thick sandwich, biting down and chewing. “You make the best sandwiches, Myers. I mean, Magnolia.”
She grinned. “You can call me Myers. I’m used to it.”
“It might be easier, so I don’t slip up at work,” I agreed.
She frowned, eating her sandwich, looking worried. “I don’t know exactly how to ask this…” She trailed off. “I’m not used to… I mean, I don’t know how…”
I swallowed my bite and leaned over, tracing her cheek with my finger. “You don’t know how to act when you and your boss have sex for the first time?”
She tossed her hair, the light behind her catching the reddish tints. “I don’t know what it meant to you.”
“I don’t either, except it meant something.” I thought about her words as I chewed another delicious bite. “You’re an excellent assistant, Myers, probably the best I’ve had. And I can’t deny the attraction I feel for you. But they’re two separate things. We have to keep them that way.”
“I agree. I don’t plan on running up and down the hall, yelling about our private matters.”
“Good plan.”
“So, we keep our private lives private. In the office, we’re Myers and Bane. No more, ah, chair-breaking accidents.”
I had to laugh. “But we can break things here or my place?”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Bane.” Then she became serious. “You went to bat for me last week with those awful women. I don’t want to give them a reason to come back at you, saying you were doing it because we’re, ah, screwing around.”
“I would never allow them to do so. I value both our reputations. I agree, we need to keep it business in the office.”
“Okay. So, no touching—or anything else during business hours.”
“Agreed. Outside is a different matter.”
She took a bite, the worry still on her face. “You want that?” she asked.
I put down my plate, sliding closer to her. “Yes, I do. Today wasn’t a one-and-done. I like you. You make me laugh. I feel…different around you. I want to see where this goes.” I studied her. “As long as you do.”
“I do.”
“Then we’re in agreement.”
“You can’t treat me differently.”
“I can’t promise that. I feel very differently about you than anyone else.” I paused, rubbing my lip. “When I realized it was you those women were disparaging at the dinner, I almost lost it. After Rylee told me what had happened the day before, I was furious. Angrier than I could ever recall feeling.” I barked out a dry laugh. “And that is pretty angry. Usually, my mother holds that spot. I have never felt the need to stand up for someone else the way I did for you. The need to make sure you were shielded from them was intense.”
She smiled. “No one has protected me that way since my dad got sick.”
I returned her smile with one of my own and leaned close to kiss her cheek. “So I will try to be the boss during business hours. But if someone comes after you, I can’t promise anything.”
“The same goes for you.”
I grinned. “Yeah, Myers?”
“I’ll go up against your mother for you again.”
“Oh God,” I said, widening my eyes. “What story will you tell her next time?”
She laughed, and I loved the sound of her amusement. It made me want to laugh with her.
“I’ll think of something.”
“I’m sure you will. Try to keep it PG this time.”
“I can’t promise anything. My mouth does get me in trouble at times.”
I traced her full lips. “I’m rather fond of this mouth.”
“Yeah?” she whispered, kissing my finger, teasing it with the end of her tongue.
“Are you done with that sandwich?” I asked, my question coming out on a low growl.
She nodded, sliding her plate on top of mine.
Seconds later, she was on my lap, our mouths fused together.
I reclined back on the love seat, Myers a snuggled ball of warmth on top of me. As we’d discovered, her love seat was a lot sturdier than my office chair. Our kisses led to touching, then to our clothing being discarded carelessly once more. Luckily, I had another couple of condoms with me I’d grabbed from my private bathroom at the office, and I had the pleasure of watching her ride me again, this time the act happening leisurely with a sea of pillows around us. I pulled a blanket over us once we were cleaned up, and I discovered how much she loved to be held. She made the softest noises in the back of her throat as I stroked her neck and spine, tracing my fingers over her tattoo.
“When did you get this?” I asked.
“When I was twenty-one. I was named after my grandmother, and she died just before my birthday. I got it in her memory.” She tapped her shoulder. “The date is here.”
“Ah,” I said, pulling her back down. “I’m sorry, Maggie darling.”
She snuggled closer. “I like it when you call me that.”
“Tell me about your grandmother.”
“My mom died when I was very young. I barely remember her. We came to live with my gran. In this house.”
“What?” I asked.
“I grew up here.”
“Why are you living in the basement?”
She sighed. “After Gran died and Dad got sick, I knew I had to sell the house. I needed the money to make sure he had a safe, nice place to be looked after in once I couldn’t care for him myself. The government-run homes are terrible. I wanted him to have a place where he’d be happy.” She paused, and I felt the emotion coursing through her, so I held her tighter.
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“Four years. The disease really took hold last year, and his memory is almost gone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s an awful disease. He’s here, but he isn’t. I see the dad I love. He sees a stranger most of the time. Especially now.”
Her voice was low as she spoke. “When his memory started to fail, once the doctors gave him a diagnosis, we sat down and talked about the future. He was accepting, still having the capability of knowing he was forgetting more and more. We toured homes and both liked the place where he is now. He balked at the cost, but I knew what I would have to do for him to be placed there. Once I could no longer leave him home alone, he went there and stayed in the ward until the house was sold and I could move him to a private room. I furnished it with pieces from the house, and he was comfortable. He knew me still, and visits were filled with recollections of his life.” She was quiet for a moment. “Gradually, he forgot about me, living in the past. Some days, he doesn’t communicate at all, lost to a world I don’t know. Those are the hardest days. I miss him so much. His guidance. The laughter we shared.”
“You were close,” I stated, hearing the love she had for him in her tone.
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been alone all this time?”
“I’m not alone. I sold the house to friends, with the arrangement I could live down here at a fixed rate. Gran used to rent this space for extra income and it worked well, so I became the extra income for Grant and Lily. Grant does financial planning, and he helped me invest the money so most of the interest pays for Dad’s care. I only have to draw on the capital when needed, and it should last as long as Dad is alive. My salary pays my rent and living expenses.”
I couldn’t help the swell of pride I felt as I looked at her. I thought she was incredible. Strong and resilient. Brave. I touched her cheek, feeling the dampness of her skin.
“Does it upset you living here?”
“No. I like it here. I have so many things of my gran’s around me, it still feels like home. I didn’t need the huge space upstairs. I would have rambled around all the time. They let me store stuff up in the attic too, and if I want to go in the backyard, I’m welcome. I have dinner with them and see the space often.”
I looked around, the eclectic pieces making more sense to me. This was her history. Pieces of her life she kept close.
“My gran was a bit of a fashion plate, and I always loved her clothes. Some of the blouses I wear were hers. Others, I pick apart and sew into new ones. But I loved that period. The lace and silks. The elegance.” She shrugged, peeking up and looking self-conscious. “I know people think I dress funny, but I like it.”
“I like how you dress,” I assured her. “It suits you, and you’re incredibly sexy. You’re more covered up than most of the women in the office, yet you’re a siren, Myers. Some days I can barely concentrate.”
“Oh,” she replied, looking pleased.
“I’m not sure how I’ll concentrate now that I know what the lace and silk are hiding.” I grinned at her. “Never mind the lumberjack outfits.”
She laughed and I joined her, kissing the end of her nose. “Ignore the haters. They’re unhappy, so they want you to be as well.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“My mother is never happy. Ever. Even when she gets what she wants. It took me a long time to understand she was trying to make me unhappy too. Now, we just argue, and I go on living my life. She broods and schemes. She tires me,” I admitted. “I try not to let her, but she knows how to push my buttons. I see her as little as possible.”
“What about your brother?”
“Stepbrother. He’s a social climber. He’s seen with the right women. Has the right connections. We meet on occasion at a function. Shake hands and smile. That’s about it.”
“What about holidays? Birthdays, that sort of thing?”
“I’m alone.”
She looked stricken, worrying her lip between her teeth. “You?” I asked.
“I go see my dad. He doesn’t remember me most of the time now, but I still go see him.”
“What else do you do?”
“I have dinner with friends. Christmas, I volunteer at one of the soup kitchens, feeding people.”
“So, you’re alone too,” I summarized.
“Not as alone as you.”
“You think there are different degrees of being alone? I think in the end it’s all the same.”
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
“Or maybe not,” I granted. “But we’re not alone right now.”
“No, we’re not.”
The air had gotten heavier. Deeper. More personal than I expected. I rarely spoke of my estranged family. No one ever asked me what I did on holidays. Or my birthday. And no one ever looked at me the way Myers did. Her dark eyes and expressive face said so much. For some reason, I disliked the thought of her being alone. And she disliked the fact that I was. We had more in common than I had thought.
Still, we were getting in too deep. Too private. I needed to break the conversation.
“Any chance of another sandwich?”
She smiled and sat up, her breasts pink and rough from rubbing against my chest. I reached out, stroking a finger down one heavy curve. Her nipple hardened, and I looked up to see her watching me with hooded eyes.
“Or maybe,” I murmured, leaning close and sucking the nipple into my mouth. “We should try out your bed.”
She whimpered, holding my head close as I teased her with my tongue. “Oh,” she moaned.
“Or here,” I groaned as my cock thickened between us.
“Here is good. Bed after.”
I grinned as I slid my hand between us, finding her already wet. “I like how you think, Myers.”