20. ARIES
20
ARIES
L ater that morning, I walk into the kitchen to find Alec already there, chopping up fruit. He stops and gives me the once over. His eyebrows rise far too high up his forehead as he waves the knife at me and says, “You look like you had a good night. Did you get any sleep?”
I can’t stop smiling. I’m normally cheery, but this is next level. My face gives everything away, but I hold my index finger against my lips to shh him, my eyes dropping to where Lucie is following me into the kitchen.
Alec straightens, lowering the knife to the chopping board. “Hi, Lucie.”
“Hello.” She grins and hops up on a stool at the island.
He pushes a bowl of mango at her. “For you, Princess.”
“Is there any for me?” I ask.
He slides another bowl over to me. “Only because you’re a great nanny.” He imbues his words with so much inflated emotion, I know he’s being facetious. “So kind and caring. And because I like you. Maybe a little too much.”
I roll my eyes, trying to look like I’m not affected by his repetition of Mr Hawkston’s words from last night, but I can already feel the heat rising up my cheeks. “Stop it.”
Alec turns his attention to Lucie. “You’re very lucky to have such a great nanny.” The jocular tone is gone, and I can tell he means it. “You know that, right?”
“Yup. I know that. Daddy said so.”
Alec gives a satisfied smile and nods his head. “Too right.”
“What did Daddy say?”
I spin in my seat to see Mr Hawkston— Matt. How strange to think I can call him that —standing in the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the frame. Holy shit, he looks like a different man. He’s so relaxed, his smile so warm. He looks sexy as hell… if it’s possible he’s more handsome this way. I cannot believe I spent all night having sex with this specimen.
I immediately want to do it again. And again. And again. My heart is beating like it has a million tiny wings, and every cell in my body heats up. If I don’t hold it together, there’s going to be a puddle on my chair when I stand.
“You said Aries was a great nanny,” Lucie repeats. “Last night, when you came to my room and sat on my bed.”
Matt frowns, then looks up at me, a wide smile spreading over his face. “It seems everyone was listening.”
Alec keeps his head down, furiously chopping way more fruit than we need. If he’s making assumptions about my night based on how I look, there’s no way he won’t draw the same conclusion from witnessing his boss this at ease.
Matt walks into the kitchen and kisses the top of Lucie’s head. Then he pauses beside me. It’s a tantilizing moment of static sparks. His hand twitches like he’s about to touch me, but he lets his arm drop.
Alec catches my eye, and I know he noticed. So awkward.
Matt sits on the stool at the island on the other side of Lucie so she’s pinned between us. “What are we eating?”
“Mango, currently,” Alec answers. “But I can make you anything you want.”
“Hmm. Fruit’s not going to cut it this morning. I’m starving.” Matt pushes his tongue into his cheek and looks at the ceiling for a second before focusing back on Alec. “Can you make Eggs Benedict? There’s a cafe just down the road—The Belmont—that does the most fabulous Eggs Benedict.”
Alec smiles. “I know it. Those are my favourite.”
“A man of good taste,” Matt replies.
The exchange is cordial, but it makes me wonder how often Matt has taken the time to talk to Alec before this. And if he loves the Eggs Benedict from The Belmont so much, how come he’s never asked for them from his chef before?
We all sit making slightly awkward conversations while Alec makes breakfast. When he’s done, he places the plate, with perfectly symmetrically arranged Eggs Benedict on it, in front of Matt.
“Tell me, Alec, what are your aspirations?” Matt asks as he spins the plate as though he wants it to face a certain direction before picking up his cutlery. He’s still staring at his food when Alec throws me another ‘ what the fuck? ’ look as though he’s amazed at the change in his boss.
“Actually, it’s to be the head chef at the Mayfair Hawkston Hotel. And to get at least one Michelin star.”
“Really?” Surprise echoes in Matt’s voice as he loads his fork with a bite. He pops it in his mouth, his eyes wide as he chews. Then he swallows and says, “God, those eggs are better than The Belmont. Why did I never know you could do this?”
Alec wipes his hands on his chef’s coat. “You never asked, sir,” he admits, but I hear no resentment in the statement.
“What other talents are you hiding from me?” Matt asks, and Alec blushes as he rolls off a list of his favourite dishes to cook.
“You’ll have to have a trial at the Mayfair Hotel then,” Mr Hawkston says. “Although I’d be damn sorry to lose you here.”
Alec looks so ecstatic that he might float off the ground. I smile, enjoying the repartee between them. I’m sensing it’s new, given Alec’s continually surprised expression.
“Where are we going today?” I ask Lucie, because at the moment no one’s paying either of us any attention.
Matt breaks off his conversation with Alec. “You can have the day off,” he says to me. “I’m taking Lucie out.”
“Yay,” Lucie cries, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck. “Daddy-Lucie day.”
I raise a brow. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Take a nap. You might be up late.” Matt’s voice doesn’t waver, but Alec’s eyebrows rise so high, it looks like they’re trying to hitch a lift with his hair.
Heat flares in my cheeks as images of last night flood my mind. Arousal pulses between my legs, and I lean forward on the stool, pressing my thighs together in an attempt to dampen the effect, but it only makes it worse.
I really hope I’m up late. I want to be up late every night . I’d be raw, but fuck it, I’d be sated. And then there’s that other thing… the contented warmth I felt after we shed the roles of employer and employee last night. I want more of that too.
When Matt finally finishes eating, he takes Lucie off for the day, leaving me and Alec staring at one another in the kitchen.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Alec hisses. “I’ve never seen him like that. He’s normally a moody bastard. Did you fuck another personality into him?”
“Alec. Shut up.” I press my lips together, then bite the bottom one and tilt my head to the side. “Maybe.”
He places his hands flat on the kitchen counter and leans across the island. “Tell me everything .”
I shake my head and motion zipping my lips. “Nope. I don’t do gossip. Not about this, anyway.”
“Damn. This is the most interesting thing that’s happened in this house since Mr Hawkston busted Gemma having the affair.”
A pang tweaks my heart. “She cheated on him?”
Alec nods. “Yeah. But their marriage was over long before that. And really, I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him. He was never here, and when he was, they fought. I know he works hard, but he was very absent, and when he did show his face, he was grumpy as fuck and barely said a word.” Alec wipes the back of his hand over his forehead. “I’ve honestly never seen him like he was just now. He seemed like a real human being.”
I’m struggling to compute what Alec’s saying, because the man I spent the night with was not just a real human being, but one that’s kind and passionate and tender and… Shit . I’m already feeling far too much for him.
I suddenly remember the conversation I had with my mother, when she accused me of only liking men for sex. One night with Matt Hawkston, and I’m re-writing every previous opinion I’ve held about men. I’ve played up the whole ‘I love your dick’ thing because I don’t want him to freak out… and I don’t want to freak myself out… but if I’m honest, whatever this is between us, it’s big . Emotionally big, not just physically. I like him. A lot.
But then I recall the man that shouted at me in the corridor yesterday, and I wonder if I like him enough to make my peace with that. I’m so attracted to him that any real concerns about his behaviour flew out of my mind as soon as he kissed me. But now, in the cold light of day, with Alec staring at me over the kitchen island, I find it hard to reconcile the two versions of this man. How can he be so kind, so passionate, but also sharp, cold and closed off? I could excuse the shouting as stress… not only is he working hard, but he was worried for his daughter’s safety. But not every man would have lost his temper the way he did.
A strange wave of discomfort ebbs low in my belly.
No matter how wonderful it was to be in his arms last night, how connected I felt to him and how certain I was that this is more than just lust… I’m still not entirely convinced I haven’t made a big mistake.
The thought sits like a dead weight in my gut, but as I observe the sensation, it shifts. And to my surprise, I find I don’t care at all. It might well be a mistake, but it’s the best mistake I’ve ever made.
I spend the afternoon strolling around the west end. I walk the river from the Houses of Parliament all the way to the Tower of London. It’s beautiful and vibrant, and I love being able to do it, but I have an acute sense of loneliness. I ought to be sharing this experience with someone. And truthfully, there’s only one person I’d want to do it with, and he’s my boss.
My attention is intently focused on my old mobile phone, weighing down my pocket like a boulder. I’m waiting for it to ring, or buzz, but it doesn’t.
I try not to be disappointed. After all, Matt is with Lucie, and he’s probably too busy to be sending messages to me.
When I finally get home, my feet are aching, and I’m tired. I ate dinner alone, waiting on the text message that never arrived. I creep up to my room. The lights are low, and I can see the soft glow of Lucie’s night light. Matt must have already put her to bed.
And then it occurs to me; I know exactly what I need right now—a sauna. He did say I could use it, so I’m taking him at his word.
I strip off my clothes, wrap a towel around me, and head down to the basement in the lift.
A few minutes later, I enter the pool room and approach the sauna. I can smell the hot wood before I open the door. When I step inside, the heat blasts me like I’m stepping into hell; an impression that’s only accentuated by the dim red lights beneath the wooden slats of the benches. It’s wonderful .
None of the staff will be in the house because it’s Sunday night, so I’m feeling totally relaxed. I don’t know where Matt is. I assume he’s home, but he hasn’t contacted me and I don’t want to appear too eager. Although it’s possibly too late for that…
I take a seat on the wooden bench and close my eyes.
Fuck, it’s hot in here.
I breathe slowly, allowing the heat to penetrate my skin, reaching the deeper flesh. Sweat begins to pearl all over me and I lie down, still wrapped in my towel.
But if no one’s here, shouldn’t I be able to have the full sauna experience? I open my towel, spreading it on the bench, and I lie back down on top of it, fully naked. It’s glorious, allowing the heat to touch every forbidden part of me.
I’m immediately turned on, and I run my hands over my breasts, touching my hardened nipples, imagining it’s Matt doing it. In my mind’s eye, I see his large hands strumming my body. I see his face, his jaw, his dark eyes, that thick hair that begs to have my fingers twisted through it. His body… those muscles… that huge, hard dick…
My arousal zooms to one hundred per cent, and I feel a gush of wetness between my legs. I part my thighs, letting the heat hit my pussy.
After last night, I’ve been semi-aroused all day and haven’t done anything about it. But now, lying here naked in the safe cocoon of the sauna, it seems like the perfect moment. Before I get too hot and can’t take it anymore…
I slide my hand down to my pussy, which is already soaked. I laugh to myself. If Matt can get me this wet when he’s not even here, then I’m in deep trouble.
I raise my knees a little, digging my heels in to the bench beneath me as I drag my wetness up and over my clit. With my other hand, I knead one of my breasts, teasing the nipple. The images in my head are so vivid, I can almost smell Matt, feel his body pounding against mine, taste the salt of his sweat on my tongue.
Holy crap , this is unbelievable. I lift my hips a little off the bench, rubbing my clit, which swells beneath my fingertips. Pleasure zips through my body, little ecstatic buzzes ripping through my cells. I move my hand faster, needing my orgasm to break before the sauna gets so hot I can’t breathe. I moan in the heat, teetering right on the edge.
The door to the sauna clicks open, cool air flooding the small space. Fuck . I open my eyes, raising my head, using my hands to cover myself.
Matt stands in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his hips. He’s so huge that he dominates the space entirely. I’m surprised he doesn’t have to duck to stand in here.
He stares at me, desire smoldering in his dark eyes. The air crackles with electricity. “My sauna’s never been this fucking hot.” A laugh bubbles through my lips, but he crosses the sauna in two steps and presses a finger to my mouth. “Don’t stop.”
I raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t look away. “Let me see you,” he says, as he sits by my feet.
His gaze lowers to my very wet, very exposed, very hot , pussy. With one large, warm hand, he nudges my bent knee so it falls outward. “You’re drenched.” His eyes widen with what looks like awe. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”
God, this is so fucking dirty . I’m not used to this unabashed sexuality when there’s another human being present, but the longing on his face is so exquisite, and the commanding tone of his voice so authoritative, that I can’t disobey him. “You. I was thinking about you.”
He lets out a groan, and the sound resonates with desire. It infuses me, and an internal heat roars through my body, mingling with the heat of the sauna. I’m slick with sweat; every inch of my skin is shining. My tolerance for the temperature is running out, but with Matt’s eyes on me, I know it won’t take a moment to come.
I begin to touch myself again, and in a couple of strokes, I’m exactly where I left off, teetering on the edge of orgasm. “Fuck. Oh, fuck,” I say. “Please, Matt. Touch me—”
He growls in response, his hands clamping around my ankles.
“That’s not what I meant,” I bite out.
“Keep going,” he orders.
I squirm and writhe, my hips shifting against my towel as I touch myself. “Please, Ma—”
His hands tighten, cutting me off. His breaths come hard and fast, his eyes glued to where I’m now slipping my fingers inside myself.
I’m desperate to feel him there instead, deep inside my body, to have that delicious fullness that only he can give me. It’s clear from the fierce grip he has on my ankles that he’s not going to give me what I’m asking for, but the low, frustrated groan that he lets out suggests he’s denying himself too.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” he rasps, confirming my suspicion. “But watching you touch yourself… fuck . It’s almost as good.” He lets out another of those groans which only increases the need humming between my legs. I won’t be able to hold back much longer and I work my clit harder. Matt’s eyes flare with desire as he notices the shift in my movement. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, deep and greedy. “Let me see you come undone.”
His words send me plummeting over the edge into an orgasm that makes my legs shake against his hold. My back arches, my head thrashing against the bench, hair spilling loose around my shoulders.
It goes on and on and on, cresting and sinking and cresting again, Matt’s eyes on me the whole time, eating me up, drinking me down . So greedy.
When my orgasm finally dwindles, I lie still, my chest heaving. I’m seeing stars, my head is light from the heat of the sauna and the mind-blowing orgasm.
I cover my eyes with my hand, and blow out a loud breath. Matt chuckles, bringing his lips to the inside of my shin. He kisses his way up my leg, stopping at the knee. I creak my fingers apart so I can see him.
“How the fuck did you get to be so hot?” he breathes.
I smile. I can’t help it when he’s looking at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. “It’s a sauna. It’s ninety fucking degrees in here.”
He snorts and looks me over, assessing and appreciating. He squeezes my thigh, then hops off the bench. “Let’s get you out of here before you pass out.”
His hands are lifting me, entirely naked, from the bench, and he’s pushing the door open with his hips.
The heat is deep in my flesh by now. I think I’m partially cooked. Not even the cool air out here makes a difference.
Matt lies me down on one of the loungers by the side of the pool. They’re huge and anchored to the floor. It’s warm against my back, a gentle soothing heat.
“Is this thing heated?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Wow.”
There’s a fresh towel rolled up at the end of each lounger, like the house is a high end hotel. Which I guess isn’t surprising, given where the Hawkston money was made.
He sits at the end of the lounger, and his eyes sweep over me, taking in every inch of my bare skin. His gaze is like a soft caress; reverent, yet laden with longing.
He raises a small bottle of what looks like massage oil. I don’t know where he got it, but he pours a little in his palm, sets the bottle on the floor and rubs his hands together. I eye him warily, watching those huge, oil-slicked palms rub against one another.
“Relax,” he says. “You did a lot of hard work in there.” He nods at the sauna.
I lie back, unable to forget that I’m completely at his mercy. He’s huge and strong, and I’m lying here naked and helpless. If he wanted, he could do anything with me. And yet I feel completely safe as he begins, working his way up my body in long, deep strokes that tenderize my muscles.
The oil has a calming scent, like lavender and bergamot. In other circumstances, I might drift off and fall into a relaxing sleep. But with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met stroking oil into my naked skin, I can’t possibly.
There’s a fire in his eyes, like all he wants to do is bend me over and fuck me raw, but he’s taking his time, sliding his hands up my thighs.
My breath catches in my throat as his hand finally reaches the top of my leg. I clench my fists at my sides, and bite down on my lip. He must notice the sudden tension in my body, because a deep moan rumbles in his throat.
“Please,” I say, my voice a breathy whimper.
“You like to beg, don’t you?”
I nod as he teases the edge of my pussy with one thick finger, his eyes shining mischievously. I shift my hips, seeking friction, hoping I can somehow tempt him to slide inside me.
“Please, fuck me.” I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed that I want him so much I’m still begging. “I can’t bear this.”
“I don’t tend to bring condoms to the sauna,” he replies, still stroking the edges of my pussy, gradually increasing the pressure around my wet entrance.
I let out a needy moan. “I’m on the pill,” I say. “Please—”
“Are you sure?”
I gasp as his finger finally comes to rest right at my entrance, and he runs it around the edge, sensitizing every cell in the area until my need reaches fever-pitch.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I bite out. “You’re a cruel man, Matt Hawkston.”
Laughter rumbles in his chest, such a sexy sound that I’m barely managing to control myself. I shift on the lounger in an attempt to sit up, but his hand comes to my shoulder easing me back down. “Nuh-uh,” he says. “We’re going to do this my way.”
That deep, commanding voice does things to me that I never knew were possible. My body is vibrating with anticipation. I lie back as he stands, the towel around his hips doing nothing to hide the huge erection that tents the fabric.
Hanging on hooks on the wall are four towelling robes. Matt removes the belts from them and returns to where I’m lying on the lounger.
My heart is in my throat. Fuck me, he wants to tie me up. I didn’t think I could be more turned on than I am right now, but as he grips the belts in both hands, pulling them taut between his fists, arousal buzzes through me like an electric current.
“Arms over your head,” he says, and I obey instantly. “Anything you don’t like, tell me and we’ll stop.”
I nod, and he begins to tie one of my wrists to the leg of the lounger. Then he moves to the other and secures it so I’m unable to move my arms. Then he moves to my feet and ties my ankles to the legs at the bottom of the lounger.
My arousal is soaring as I let him splay me out, and my mouth dries as Matt holds eye contact, his gaze burning me up until I’m nothing but the intensity of my desire. I don’t give a fuck what this looks like, or what anyone might think. All I want is to feel his body on mine… in mine.
He stands at the end of the lounger and surveys his handiwork, a smug grin tugging at his lips.
My hips jerk of their own volition, my back arching as if my pussy can jump off the lounger and reach him. “Please, let me see you,” I breathe.
He tilts his head in consent, then lets his towel drop to the floor.
“Oh, my God,” I moan, as he stands there, his dick huge and hard, rising to his navel. His abs are beautifully defined, his thighs dense with muscle, and the definition of his quads is so deep I could slide my fingers in the ridges. He is a perfect specimen.
And his face… that jaw, those eyes… I cannot believe this is really happening.
He bends so his forearms are on the lounger, his torso hovering over my lower half. He trails his tongue up the inside of my thigh, and my leg twitches like his touch is charged.
“If you don’t fuck me I’ll—”
His tongue slides inside me, thrusting deep.
“Oh, shit.” I begin to writhe on the lounger, my hips pressing upward, into his mouth. His jaw is hard, and his stubble rasps against me.
I thrash my arms, but the ties hold tight. I had no idea what sweet torment it would be to be unable to touch him. I have no control, and it makes the wanting that much more desperate. And Lord knows, it was desperate before. I want to grab his head, tug his hair, force his face deeper, but I can’t do any of those things.
He slides one hand under my arse so he can tilt my hips, giving him better access. When he has me where he wants me, he feasts, his tongue alternately lapping in long strokes, then flicking in short ones as he teases my clit before he sucks on it. Pleasure builds as he works me with his mouth, and sparks fly through my body, making my toes curl. No one has ever given me so much pleasure before.
He lowers me, then slides one finger into my wet slit, then another, pressing against that deep spot within. His tongue continues to tease my clit, which is full and swollen and eager for release.
The pleasure intensifies until not even the rigidity of my thighs against his shoulders can hold it back.
And then he stops.
“What the fuck?” I yell, the tingles of my imminent orgasm beginning to fade.
“Hold it. Keep it right there.” He grins at me, his lips and chin wet with my juices. Then, in one swift motion, he’s on top of me, the reassuring weight, the heat of him, pressing against me.
He lines us up and then—“Now,” he commands, as he thrusts deep inside me.
My orgasm breaks with such force that I can’t control my body. I’m shuddering and jerking against him, moans and screams slipping from my mouth.
I’m so consumed with pleasure I’m not even here. Every cell of my being, every fibre is alight, burning with more ecstasy than I’ve ever experienced.
Matt rides out my climax, fucking me hard, each thrust shooting another burst of pleasure through me like the strike of a whip.
“Fuck, fuck, oh, God—”
“Not God,” he growls. “Me.”
I tug at my restraints, desperate to touch him, to feel him, to claw at him, but I can’t. Somehow, it only makes the pleasure last longer, the repeated crests of my orgasm pulsing through me; up my forearms, my hands, right to the tips of my fingers. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. My whole body is buzzing.
Matt pumps his hips, his huge cock filling me so completely, touching the deepest parts of me.
“Come again, come for me,” he says, his voice a desperate rasp against my ear.
And I do. My climax rises to meet his words, my pussy clenching around him, dragging his orgasm out.
“Oh, shit,” he groans. “So good, so fucking good.” Tendons in his neck stand out, every muscle in his arms and chest tense as his cock jerks inside me and the warmth of his seed fills me up.
He lets out a final shuddering moan before he lowers himself against me, pressing my breasts against his chest.
For a few moments, we breathe, waiting for our inhales and exhales to return to normal.
“What the fuck are we doing?” he mumbles, his voice soft, his lips pressed against my neck.
“Having fun,” I reply, still breathless. “I don’t know about you, but I’m having the time of my life here.”
He chuckles against my throat. “Don’t leave. Don’t ever go anywhere. I need this kind of fun in my life forever.”
Forever .
I say nothing, letting him slowly kiss my breasts, caressing my nipples with his tongue. I don’t know what to say, because I don’t know what this is. He’s still my boss, and I’m in a role that was never meant to be permanent. I need the cash, and I need to go back home at the end of the summer to be with my mum.
And then what?
I push the thought out of mind, focusing on the gorgeous man whose hands and mouth are slowly worshiping my body in the wake of our conjoined orgasm. But there’s a sense of sadness fluttering in the darkness that I can’t shed.
Matt stops touching me, his body going tense and still. Concern creases his brow. “What’s wrong?”
I debate telling him how I feel, but what’s the point? This isn’t a normal situation. We aren’t two people who met as equals, with a viable future ahead of us. He might have said forever, but I’m certain he doesn’t really mean it.
“I should’ve checked that you’ve been tested,” I say, hoping to dispel the intense emotion of the situation by bringing us back to more practical concerns. “You know, because of all those women you’ve slept with before me.” The words I said to him on my first day pound in my ears, You look like you’ve seen a lot of women’s underwear.
He quirks his head. “I got married at nineteen. What kind of husband do you think I was?”
“You’ve been divorced for a year. That’s a lot of days. A lot of potential—”
“You should stop talking,” he says, a playful smirk on his lips. “Gemma was my first. And you…” His words fade along with the expression on his face, and the silence is burdened by whatever he’s about to confess. He looks so uncertain that I know exactly what he’s about to say. I’m the second.
Fuck me. This is a big deal. A big fucking deal, and I don’t know how to handle it. I feel a bit like I might faint, I’m so surprised. I had this man pegged all wrong, and my concerns about whatever this is between us shrivel, sucked dry by the new knowledge that whatever this is to me, it’s something else to him.
You make a lot of assumptions. That’s what he’d said when I made the underwear comment on my first day. I force a smile onto my face, trying not to show how overwhelmed I am by his almost-admission. “Can you untie me?”
He sits up and moves to the leg of the lounger to release me, but his face is creased with concern. “Is everything all right?”
The belt falls away and I rotate my free wrist. “Yes.” I lie, focusing on my wrists so I don’t have to meet his gaze. “Yes. Fine.”
He dips his head, easing himself into my field of view, forcing me to look at him. “You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” He tips my chin up with one gentle finger, making sure I’m really looking at him. “I’d never take a risk like that with your health, Aries. I hope you know that.”
The way he says it is so gentle, so full of care, that my heart starts quivering in my chest, the regular rhythm going haywire as if he’d said something else entirely. “I know that, Mr Hawkston.” My voice is soft, but I mean the words so completely, that it feels like the most important thing I’ve ever said.
He grins. “Matt. Call me Matt.”
And for now, that’s enough.