Chapter 13 Samantha
SAMANTHA
I have not poisoned many in my career as a chef. Only troublemaking skanks who deserved it. Anyway, there must be some justice in the world, and it’s important we all help to contain aggressive behavior.
I also don’t want her around. Harrison and I, we have unfinished business. I also want him back.
In my pants.
The next morning, the grey heiress leaves before breakfast.
Supposedly, her pretty boy pilot type had to half-carry her from the bed.
After Harry sees her off in the lobby, and she acts like it was as bad as malaria, the two fake double kiss, and she is no longer.
Harry closes the large oak door, slumps against it, and sighs. I walk out from the kitchen, crossing my arms, and smile. “So,” I say, “is the man of the house hungry?”
“He is,” Harry says, full of energy. “In fact, he is famished.”
“Good,” I say, walking into the kitchen.
I go to finish what I’ve been working on when Harry walks in and leans against the door, watching me.
Freshly showered, he smells stunning in one of his fresh white shirts pressed to perfection.
“Will you join me?”
“What?”
“I feel like some company,” he says.
I size him up and then shrug. I am not exactly dressed for fine dining, but my tight yoga pants are comfy. I have also seen him checking my curves out. Why not?
We sit in the sunny hanging fern room, designed for casual meals. We also sit together as humans.
I have laid out a simple mini-buffet-style meal on a side table.
We have dishes of salmon, eggs, coffee, croissants, cooked tomatoes, bacon, and waffles.
The furniture is cast iron and old-fashioned. The cushions are classy, tropical-themed, padded, and soft.
“It’s a gorgeous room,” I say, sipping strong coffee as peacocks walk in the distance.
“It is,” Harry agrees, eating eggs and toast. “It was my mother’s favorite.”
I notice him avoid eye contact, and I start to eat in silence. I have learned Harry appreciates thinking time and silence, and not too much idle talk or so-called small talk.
“So, are you enjoying the property?” he asks, finally wiping his mouth and looking up.
I tell him I think the estate is wonderful. I then decide to tell him what I really think.
I do it nicely, but after being around restaurants all over the world, I tell him I think the home has a few holes.
Like the ancient, noisy plumbing in the kitchen, the pool needing some retiling to protect it for the next generation, and I also think there are rats in the stables.
Harry looks at me over his coffee and says this: Nothing.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “It’s just good to have a fresh eye and someone who is not, let’s say, feeble. It is rare to find someone who speaks their mind.”
“Is that bad?”
“No, it’s refreshing, and you’re not wrong.”
Harry then sighs in the sun and looks outside. “My God, it’s good to have her gone.” We both laugh loudly and freely. “The world is becoming a rather messed-up place,” he says.
I agree and add, “Rather fucked, indeed.” We laugh again, and it feels good. He feels good. “So, more work today?” I ask.
Harrison nods and sighs. “As always.”
We share a look, and now is the time. “Does the good master ever take it easy, and well, live in the now?”
Harry looks at me, sipping his strong coffee.
“I’m not sure I know what I live for, anymore.”
“Then what is the point, fine Sir?”
Harry looks out the window, and he seems lost for once. “To, I suspect, know I can do it. To rise to a challenge and to be the best of the best, I guess.”
We look out the window as the sun rises across the lake. It is magical, and it is perfect.
“And what makes you feel alive, Samantha?”
Inhaling, I think about that one, long and hard.
“Not so easy, is it?” he asks, looking at me.
I smile and sip my own coffee. “Well, I’m not so sure, anymore. I doubt I’m a big city girl. I also feel it’s my time to help others.”
“Others?”
“I don’t know, I’ve been toying with an idea to help design highly nutritional meals for the less fortunate and needy. Maybe for adoption agency support and the VA. You know, veteran support locations.”
I can tell the idea connects with the man next to me because his chin lifts and he inhales, as if really breathing the idea in. Knowing he is alone in the world may have hit a nerve.
“It would be an honorable path. You should do it!” he says with a rare human smile.
“Thanks, maybe I will. But when the time is right.”
“Not now?”
It’s a tough one to answer, so I just sip my coffee. “I think my hands are full, for now.”
We relax in the sun, and as it rises, ducks land on the lake’s glassy surface. The two horses play on the distant shore, and Harry stands and steps closer to the windows.
He talks low without looking at me. “You’re going to need to take your pants off again, soon.” He turns to me and looks down. “You know that. Don’t you?”
“What?” I ask, my heart pumping.
The idea of him taking me is hot, and my clit starts to throb.
“If you want to be inside me, you need to be nice! Then, Mister, I’ll do anything you damned well want.”
The cool, calm gentleman puts his coffee down, and his face is now close to me. “Dear, I meant pants off to remove the stitches. They need to come out.”
I am furious.
The son of a bitch smiles, and he takes my clenched fist. “Relax!” Slowly, my fingers unwind, and he takes me by the hand. “Come!”
I follow him and the wicked bastard looks back at me. He is smiling, and I’ve had enough. I leap on him and beat his shoulders hard. We laugh, and he carries me before dropping me down.
We then walk into the kitchen, and I feel played with. Played with and turned on.
I slide my pants down, trying to control my nerves. I am standing next to the old-fashioned kitchen island where he gave me the stitches.
“No need to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous!” I huff, totally nervous. We exchange a glance, and I calm. “Okay, a bit.”
“Why?” Harry asks, pulling gear from the large first aid case.
“Every time you get in my pants…”
“I do bad things?” he asks. I look at him and nod. “But each time I do,” he says, “you’re already wet, and you are willing.”
Thinking back, he is right. I have nothing to say. It’s just confusing and electric.
“Just lie back,” he commands and watches me. In my slightly cute black panties, I climb onto the large wooden kitchen block.
I’m glad I’m wearing slightly sexy lingerie and not my plain panties.
“Now, roll over and show me your butt,” he says, his voice husky.
I do carefully, and I look back and watch him. “You like saying that, don’t you?”
Harry focuses. He then steps up behind me. “More than you will ever know.” I giggle and watch him move behind me. It’s hot, and it’s weird. AF.
“Do not steal my panties.”
“Then what can I steal?” he asks, carefully undoing the bandage around my thigh.
My heart.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just do the doctoring bit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, his expert fingertips working on my leg.
They are inches from my butt and folds, and I am starting to get turned on.
As he smiles and checks the wound, my fists clench. He holds my thigh to examine me, and he growls. “Open your legs.”
“What?”
“Give me access.”
I look back, having forgotten where the steel had cut me. My clit throbs, and I gulp. I then spread my legs for him.
“Further,” he commands.
His large, warm, firm hands hold me in place, and he is half a foot from my core. I know my butt is fully exposed, and I know he is inches from my now wet folds.
He starts to gently tug on the stitches, and my heart pounds loudly.
“Will it hurt?”
“That depends how rough I am.”
There is silence until…
“Do you like it rough?”
He asked in a husky voice, and I am reminded of our night.
“Not usually, but with you it was… I mean… No!”
He must be distracted because he pulls too hard.
It stings, and I yelp, “Ahhh, fuckk!”
“Think of something nice.”
I do, and I think of him behind me in another way. This time, he is yanking my hair and is pulling me back on his cock. I am quickly distracted, and it calms me.
I am now imagining him deep inside me and him biting my neck. I’m now on my back and my legs are forced way back and high. My ankles are near our heads, he’s in so deep.
“What are you imagining?” he mumbles, focused.
I look back as he works near my butt, wishing we could do it daily. “Nothing.”
“You have to tell your doctor everything. It’s the rules.”
“Even impure thoughts?” I ask, playing along.
“Especially those,” he says, continuing.
I see him smile in the reflection of a silver-domed dish. He looks perfect in his immaculate navy suit.
“Will it make them go away?”
I see him chuckle as he works between my legs. It is where he should be and eating me like a peach. “They will never go away. You just have to get used to controlling them.”
“And the urge?” I ask.
“And the urge,” he says, placing another stitch aside.
“And how do you control the urge?”
He suddenly pauses and sighs. “I don’t. It just builds up.”
“Until?”
“Until it gets unhealthy.”
“Then what?” I ask as he pulls another stitch out.
Harry stands and puts the utensils down. He then looks down at me, now standing over me, my butt and semi-spread legs fully exposed.
I want him so bad, and I roll onto my back. “I feel hot, can you check my temperature?”
He growls, and then he puts a hand on my forehead. It is large, comforting, and cooling. He then checks the glands around my neck as he stands in front of me. If he was to look down at my panties closely, he could likely tell I am wet. Or smell me.
I am almost at his cock height, and my hand is near it. I fight the urge to not touch him or try and fist him.
We exchange a loaded and serious look, and I give him puppy dog eyes. “Well, Doc? Give it to me straight.”
Harry crosses his arms and looks serious. I also think he is getting hard.
“Well, after years of medical practice…”
“And research?”
“And research. I suspect this...”
I roll over onto my side, lean on my elbow, and look at him. Harry looks all doctor-like, and I like it. Also, our games.
“You…”
“Yes.”
“Are…”
“Yes.”
“A very wicked little tease. And you will cause havoc wherever you go.”
“Is that bad?” I ask with come-fuck-me eyes.
“It is. Very. You are the type of woman people have wars over.”
I sigh, and the gruff hunk looks down at me.
He then runs his eyes down over my body, taking in every inch of me. My heart pounds as my nipples harden, and my clit throbs.
I do worry it is all I will get today.
His eyes finally come back to mine, and he looks down, all business. His eyes are dark, and I can tell he is having trouble. “Now, I have work to do. Cover that tight butt or bad things will go in it.”
With that, he slaps me on the butt, hard.
It stings, and it’s not even sexy. “Argghhh!” I yell loudly. “What the?!”